more gifts for the ones i love.

llamas!!

post christmas surprise for y'all

i like his shirt.
merry post christmas.

funny boys

andrea: what languages do you speak will?
will: SAME AS YOU!
andrea: yes, but what's it called?
will: french?
amy: bonjour!
will: no, i speak the language, like "HELLO!"

will: how do you know me so much?

will: it's pa-pa time!
andrea and amy: what's pa-pa time?
will: it means play with the girls!

andrea: what's your name?
henry: moin!

will: tell me you'll love the eyeballs. tell me you'll love the girls!



now i feel like christmas. leave it to two little loveable boys. dear me. i heart my fambly!

i feel like freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedom.

I almost thought in my sleep.
I almost dreamed in the dust,
in the falling rain of the dream.
I felt I had old teeth
as I feel asleep; perhaps
little by little I'm changing,
changing into a horse.

I caught the smell of the rough
grass, of the mountain ranges,
and I galloped toward water,
toward the four stormy
stations of the wind.

Good to be a horse
loose in the June light
close to Selva Negra
where the rivers run
tunneling under the turf--
the air there runs a comb
along a horse's flanks
and the language of leaves
moves in the blood.

I galloped that night
without end or country, alone,
coursing through mud and wheat,
dreams and springwater.
I left behind like centuries
the corrugated forests,
the conversations of trees,
the greening capitals,
the families of the soil.

I went back to my own region,
went back to not dreaming
on the street, to being
this grayish traveler
in the world of barbershops,
this me wearing shoes,
with hunger and spectacles,
who doesn't know where
he came from, who is lost,
who gets up in the morning
missing the meadow grass,
who goes to bed sightless
to dream without rain.

The minute they're not looking,
I leave for Renaico.


pablo neruda

forgive me my tangential thinking

a few things i like about work:

i like to break open the reams
of paper how my dad said he used to break them open when he worked at a
printing press. i throw one edge toward the ground and smack there, and
it busts open. pleasure.

i like looking at the christmas cards that come in. sometimes it's such a waste. just a printed message. the best was a snowflake papercut. i wish the dean would get a hannukah card. i enjoy the spelling of the word yarmulke.

and i like heather and her issues with radiohead. how can songs mess with the brain so much?

ok, that about sums up what i like about work right now. malaise.

people are like paperdolls. paperdolls
and people, they're a similar shape. the snow at the cabin was so
fluffy dry that i could actually see the individual snowflakes when i
knelt down to the drift. this is mind boggling, or it puts my brain in
a slingshot, pulls back, and aims for another black hole. scientists
say that each snowflake is unique, different (even if ever so slightly)
from the next. could that be? even with just a foot and a half of snow,
that's billions of particles of uniqueness (dad: remember, you are
unique. just like everybody else). what if you could see each
individual snowflake as it fell? or in a blizzard, each flake was
flashed in front of your eyes?

"bully black hole punches nearby
galaxy" now, that is a violent headline. and the black hole is
personified. neat. props to the news!

valentin, an argentine movie, threw me into a fierce nostalgia. i miss la gran republica like a hot iron misses a wrinkly shirt. or worse. maybe i could live there.

i'm trying not to listen to everything means nothing to me by elliott smith. and arpeggi/weird fishes by radiohead. and house of cards and talk show host by the same. i'm trying to listen to christmas music, but i can't. by trying, in all those cases, i mean failing.

i did get a good chunk of my paper done yesterday! i'm almost done! i want to live in a rock on the grand staircase!

friday

yesterday's conundrum.

three atypical things happened yesterday, all of which deserve mention:

1. my comrade was hit by a car
2. i won a prize
3. a sign saying boot/tow had the backslash changed to a y

my case is a coincidence.

they're not always meaningful.
yeah, it's meaningful.

meaningful how?
that's what i want you to find out.


about your life.
yeah, about my life.


and about the whole thing.
about the universe, you know? the big one.

noel nouvelet

sufjan, you win the prize for christmas music. this year's prize is one set of satisfied ears. sorry, you can't claim the prize.

but don't be fooled. christmas isn't the only thing i'm listening to. one word, in two-word format: patrick watson. find luscious life and listen to it.

another dangerous thing about christmas.

cats start acting messed up with a tree in the house. they are real creeps.

conspiracy theories

my office is bugged.

this one's for amy and mom.

i don't usually dedicate my blog postings, because, with a readership of two, i mainly feel like every post is a dedication to those two people. mom and amy. so this paragraph is inutil.

the purpose of this post is to show the warning signs and symptoms of golden eye disease.

beloved fambily cat, haeva (aka harvey), shows these token signs. she is suffering of the advanced stages of the syndrome.


sepia tone is used for its ability to tone down the sharp golden glare which emanates from the cat's eyes.ok you can't see her eyes here.


there!


poor girl. you can clearly see the symptoms in this one.

i don't want to put the world into a pandemonium, but i could see this getting as bad as the bird flu epidemic.

and, as you might already know, there is a movie coming out called "love in the time of golden eye disease." if you go see it, for the love of mankind make sure you wear some sort of sepia tone protective device, like sepia tone contact lenses or a jordy la forge hairband (sepia toned).

save your loved ones, and mankind (mank+ind) as well.

this is my 100th post.

an ode to father:


inside our house, i am lying on my bed, when i hear a noise:

(loud crashing, bumping noise)

me: dad, are you ok?

father: yeah, i just dropped my pitchfork down the stairs.










and many happy thanksgiving wishes to you and yours.

in my dreams i can fly.

dreams of flying. a few lovely fotografs.

soulja boys and girls

simply wonderful.

the humans are dead.

i am on edge today. not sure why.

sun bear makes you go awww!

avoid colon cancer, follow the global warming diet!

this is no fad diet.

the global warming diet is a great idea.


good reasons:

america, and a good part of the world, is in an obesity epidemic

gasoline consumption, simplistically put, causes environmental and political problems.

and:

6.5 billion gallons of gas would be saved

americans would lose 3 billion pounds overall

what a superb idea!






which reminds me, i would like a more friendly bicycle. my current bike changes gears without permission!

this is what i am thinking of, but perhaps with a basket attached to the handle bars.



or just a friendly schwinn.

diagnose what?

so, ritalin doesn't do much after all. amy, didn't we know this? i mean, i've always had a suspicion.

it may help in the short-term, but it doesn't help in the long-term, and it might stunt growth.

is it really worth it to have a calm kid?

i like the crazy ones!





dad: what is the difference between ADD and ADHD?

amy & andrea: H.

the whitest boy alive - golden cage

cool.

knock-knock joke

i just invented this knock-knock joke:

1. knock-knock.

2. who's there?

1. nobody?

2. nobody who?

1. not me.

my mom and sister thought it was funny, ok?!

deja vu.

i am listening to coldplay this morning for the first time in a long time. the music tricks me into thinking i am on the staircase, gliding along in job (like a rock tahoe) over the hogsback, or that stretch between calf creek and escalante, or the grassy piney stretch around canaan's peak before henrieville, or the glassy heat of the cock's comb.

flight of the conchords - think about it Ep 3

think about it.

shell wildlife photographer of the year. yes!

these fotos are brilliant.this is about movement. incredible!

a nine-year-old took this foto! babies!

narwhal whales know composition better than humans do!

black grouse booty shake.

false. brown bear.
i would love to look a bear in the face.

original story at bbc.com

ziggy era bowie on flight of the conchords 1 of 3

much love and appreciation.

what a beautiful tender mercy is the international cinema!

this summer i made a silent vow to see the moving pictures that are offered in the i.c.

this was for two reasons: first, whenever i go to a theater and pay for a movie, i end up feeling shafted and hollow. paying for this feeling is not ideal. i can get that feeling elsewhere.

second, the i.c. offers high quality films. i am hardly ever disappointed. and thought provocation is off the charts, which is sometimes hard to achieve in a hollywood film.

so consider this a pre-thanksgiving "gracias."

winged migration (2003).
so beautiful! birds!
moving.
made me feel like i could fly.

spring, summer, fall, winter and spring (2004).
beautiful. karma.

sequins (2005).
quiet and angsty french cinema.
beautiful. french guy.

cave of the yellow dog (2006).
simple. beautiful. beautiful.
a favorite from here on out.

watch yo'self

i just want to make clear to the rabbits out there:

to be careful! i have had two weird experiences in the past two weeks, involving strange men with perhaps not the greatest of intentions (or clandestine lurkers as my g-ma would say).

do not go running alone in the dark. please. if i hear you are doing it, i will take you down.

also, please lock yo' doors.

and then the police beat. let's not even go there.

good day breakdown.

9 am__q&a with harry reid
11 am__forum with harry reid
1 pm__ceramics studio
3 pm__q&a with harry reid and college democrats
4 pm__ceramics studio (slab building! favorite.)
7 pm__writing thesis for research THAT I LOVE!
9 pm__posters and thoughts for burma
12 pm__beddy bye with a friendly mexican blanket of beds' past.

leaves fall.

friend of mine wrote about how the fall leaves falling in new england is heaven on earth. started to think about it, and it left me feeling like a conundrum.

i love the leaves falling and crisping into colors that they never hinted at during spring. timp was a delight yesterday, all golden and red. i will be going again.

but how could heaven be like something dying? though it is the most lovely thing?

i think heaven is more complex than i could guess. i don't think heaven is paved with gold. or my heaven isn't paved with gold. unless that gold is made out of thousands of golden gingko, maple, and sumac leaves.

i told amy that heaven was driving down the mountain from santa clara la laguna toward lake atitlan in the back of a pick up truck, with the wind lapping around, and the blue open sky and the blue water with green mountains flanking. this still holds true.

a reinterpretation

to the folks in a row in front of us: sorry for the giggles, gasps, and otherwise unruly behavior.


pardon me, but what would you do if a lip-hand man was drinking your coke? and he had a radish? is that a radish?

i wish i was one a these!

i hear this is the littlest primate in the world.


so is hillery.


just kidding hillo!


this is a phillipine tarsier!


i am in wove wif it!

the list.

i didn't make the list this year.


click here for the list.




xoxx

tacho, unido, el pueblo esta contigo!

anastacio ajsoc-sac won the election in santa clara la laguna!

sensory overload

music so thick you could cut it with a knife.


machete more appropriate?

the set list:

black mirror

keep the car running

neighbourhood #2 (laika)

no Cars Go

haiti

black wave/bad vibrations

my body is a cage

neon bible

distortions

intervention

(antichrist television blues)

the well and the lighthouse

neighbourhood #1 (tunnels)

neighbourhood #3 (power out)

rebellion (lies)

ENCORE

old flame

wake up

muffins

paperclips!

my name is john daker

i just wanted this life changer on my blog. please disregard if you have already seen it. or don't, i don't know. it completes me.

zombie child

thanks, josh.

a good giggle.

If you're not scared or angry at the thought of a human brain being controlled remotely, then it could be this prototype of mine is finally starting to work.
- John Alejandro King

from beyond translation:

Anglakoni zaman edan
Ewuh aya ing pambudi

'(We) walk in an unstable world
Not at home, struggling against our own imagination'

unknown javanese poet

i miss this boy.

i don't get

that last post.

bites.

i don't want to get bit. which is why i run with eliz in the morning. the chances that she will not bite me are better than the chances that she will bite me. but it could be a 60-40 chance, or a 70-30, but i am willing to risk it.

hep cat symphony

merrie melodies: the early worm gets the bird

today i'm not sad. but maybe.

i miss the rhythm of where i was. big time. i miss feeling it in my sternum every day when i wake up (thanks pablo). i have tried to fill the gap by playing my music loudly, really loudly, but it's not really working. probably because you can't just transplant rhythm. actually, if you can, and you know how, tell me. but still, rhythm, it's not like a beating heart. you can't just transplant it. it's not just the music. it's just the movement. the market. walking down the street. i am going to go dance by myself now. or cry. i miss that family!

what am i supposed to do?

there's a picture on cnn right now: oprah and david letterman hugging. what am i supposed to do with this? only my two most favorite celebrities ever. phreek.

german classical radio, bless it!

it makes me think of my three day friend, paul the german. what a person! ha!

not trivial.

i was going to write a trivial little thing about music, but i can't stop thinking about camille and her family. my prayers are with them.

call me crazy, call me what you will.

i think is this love? by bob marley is one of the most romantic songs. put it at the top of my list.

coming home.

rather enjoyable. i thought i was going to go into green withdrawal, but i must say, provo is looking sharp. lovely. and the rain. i am impressed. this is a beautiful little place. and the cabin, dreamy. and the rain! rain. rain!

and nicolasa (my guatemalan mother) called me the other day. i was at the mall (travesty, i know) buying pants (yes amy, tight pants [not really]) and she called me. it was obviously raining hard in santa clara, because she was yelling (ANDREJ! HABLA NICOLASA!) and so i was answering loudly (also yelling) in spanish in the mall. i talked to the children too. jason sang "mi papa y mi sakmol!" which is a song that we laughed at alot during the fair. it means, "my dad and my egg!" it is supposed to be naughty, but i just laugh. i get a real kick out of naughty kids. oh, but they aren't naughty. they be lovely.

and seeing friends has been a gift from heaven! lovely days! my bike has a flat tire!

for my sister, for my self.

Balloonland 1935

for my sister, for the world.

Happy Harmonies - To Spring

blue ringed octopus

added to blog.

i bought a che wristband.

the thought of amy coming fills me with glee. the thought of going back to provo kind spins me down. not that i hate provo. i actually quite like the place. problem is, what comes with it, that being lack of sleep, lack of eating, working, studying, no time to play the guitar though it is sitting right there, spending money on gas, wal-mart, the end. i will say that i am looking forward to seeing my mother and father and brother and sister, having my music, finding new music, riding my bike. lamest blog ever.

i do miss

the marie antoinette cd. it would be perfect for those long field not hauls.

drunk men.

officially not cool.

it´s never over.

this may be slightly fanatical of me, but i still can´t get over lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley. i listen to it nightly. this fanaticism came from a source, and i´m with caitie and amy on this. it is never over. if you have never heard it, please try.

silly blog

i have been trying to blog on my trlog for the last little while, to no avail.

stephanie and i are sitting here writing.

dear me, i have so much to say, and i don't know where to begin. let me first say that i danced the merengue with my little brother, amilcar, this afternoon. i danced cumbia with my little doll, aracely. and giovanni danced gangster reggaeton, and i took a picture of him.

my fellow researchers and i watched the sunrise over san pablo and lake atitlan at the mirador in my family's cornfield. i saw a blue and gold millepede.

i wake up to james blunt, coldplay, and reggaeton in the morning. si alguna vez, sentiste algo lindo por mí, perdoname, perdoname.

i went to a town meeting this morning, and a women's cooperative yesterday. the women are beautiful and friendly and fierce about their families.

i mixed a bucket of hot water with a bucket of cold water to shower this morning. i am clean and happy. thank goodness for 2 in 1 head and shoulders.

my family is full of life like my home family. family family family. like feist says, it's cool it's cool to love your family.

i feel so much more secure about my project today. i feel happy, almost to a weird degree. i will be able to visit mothers to be this month, and nicolasa says that babies will be born at the end of this month, and the beginning of the next. sally, do you read my blog? i want to tell you all about this . . .

green winged guacamaya

i must mention this.

friday midday i found myself with a bit of free time and a hunger pang. i called heather, and we decided to try a new-ish spot in provo. when i got home, caitie was also there so we packed up and went to four seasons hotpot and dumplings, on 236 N. University. the waitress was incredibly helpful, and we ended up deciding on a chinese salad and a batch of boiled dumplings to share. the waitress recommended the salad and i was a bit skeptical--i thought there was a possibility that it would have crushed ramen noodles sprinkled on top, and caitie was thought that it might have canned mandarin oranges, but no, it was the real deal, with glass noodles, cilantro, and i can't remember what else. this was authentic, according to my limited knowledge of authenticity. the dumplings were filled with pork and cabbage per the recommendation of the waitress, and they were deliciosos. they were just like the ones my family had in taiwan. and after all was said and done, we only spent about 6 dollars each. so good! i write this because i want to recommend it to anyone who likes real ethnic food, and wants to support local small business. it's definitely my new favorite, and i can't wait to try a hotpot there sometime. come with me. 謝謝.

destinacion?

i might live near this.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Disorder:	Low
Schizoid Disorder:	Low
Schizotypal Disorder:	Moderate
Antisocial Disorder:	Low
Borderline Disorder:	Low
Histrionic Disorder:	Low
Narcissistic Disorder:	Low
Avoidant Disorder:	Low
Dependent Disorder:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	Low
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- -- Personality Disorders --

Moderately schizotypal. Does this mean I may be prone to believing silly internet personality disorder tests?

ricky

was the cutest face i met in escalante this time around.

today

in the news

leaves and lemon bars, title brought to you by sister one

from the other side of 7th north i saw the two. they were loitering on the corner, watching me as i crossed the street with a handful of a plateful of lemon bars, going home from the mini-mission reunion.

"hello, fair lady of the night, happy fall" said the shorter one without a beard.

"well, hello" i said.

"take this leaf, and have a happy fall" he said.

i took the leaf. a dead one, perhaps from the true fall a winter earlier.

"would y'all like a lemon bar?" said i, not knowing if it was spring, really.

"no, you should see what sugar does to me, but that man would like one" came the reply.

the bearded fellow silently smiled, nodded, and took a lemon bar from my plate. the beardless fellow was still muttering some words about sugar.

"are you sure you don't want one? i think they're good." i said, last effort.

"no, thank you very much. have a happy fall" he smiled and bowed.

"you have . . . a happy fall . . .too" i said as i turned toward the south and continued home, the leaf still in my hand.

and it stayed there til i got home and told amy this story.

open windows

data recovery is a beast. especially when the data don't recover. is it better to have written and lost, than to have never written at all? who knew that data and information is sometimes worthy of mourning? alas, poor comadrona4.doc, i knew him well.





but a night of watching youtube with hilleroy and amy can cure all ills.




and now i learned that the powers that be AREN'T changing the GRE from a 2 1/2 hour test to a 4 hour test. my adhd breathes a sigh of relief.

lindo sentimiento

i'm sitting here writing a research proposal about midwives in guatemala, and i just realized there is no where else i'd rather be. is this educational fulfillment? i'd rather not mess with the irb application, and when i think about it, i'd rather be in guatemala with the midwives, but right now, this is perfect.

irukandji

Nature holds the key to our aesthetic, intellectual, cognitive and even spiritual satisfaction.

E.O. Wilson

notre terre bleue

je veux retourner là
bora bora e' bora bora nui e'

and the winning buprestid is . . .

birds of prey

black or monk vulture


harpy eagle chick


harpy eagle


barn owl


barn owls

i'd like to see a black or monk vulture in mongolia. i have seen a harpy eagle in brazil. oh, the majesty! and i saw some kind of owl in provo. amy and i were driving near the lake, when amy spotted an owl on a fence post. we pulled over to take a look but it flew away when we cracked the door open. it was dreamy--amy can vouch.


and who couldn't love a harpy chick?


work is a little slow today.
on a final note: props to amy for putting "with arms outstretched" by rilo kiley in my repertoire and permanently in my head.

subtlety

Hemingway is the only author I have ever considered holding as my favorite author, and thus he is my favorite author. Reading, as a pastime, has always been a sort of lost ark for me, as I don't get to do it recreationally as often as I'd like. Sometimes I miss the Staircase for that reason, as I had a good bit of time and a well stocked classics section in the Escalante Public Library at my fingertips. And it was on the Staircase that I read the bulk of my Hemingway. In a word, the reason why I love Hemingway is his subtlety, or how he says nothing and then I see how he said it all. Oh the simplicity! Ha, I'm getting a little giddy. I would reccommend The Sun Also Rises, The Snows of Kilamajaro, The Old Man and the Sea, and For Whom the Bell Tolls. Pero qué sé yo? I should probably read a bit more. By the way, the photo is a young Ernest Hemingway during his service in World War I.

todo fue mio.

desaparecidos

http://www.ndmoa.com/PastEx/Disappeared/Fernando/index.html
http://www.fernandotraverso.com/


ps lonely lonely by feist remixed by frisbee'd is a dreamcicle.