for dickie.

Richard Feynman, Gell-Mann's chief competitor for the title of the World's Smartest Man but a stranger to pretension, once encountered Gell-Mann in the hall outside their offices at Caltech and asked him where he had been on a recent trip; "Moon-TRAY-ALGH!" Gell-Mann responded in a French accent so thick that he sounded as if he were strangling. Feynman -- who, like Gell-Mann, was born in New York City -- had no idea what he was talking about. "Don't you think," he asked Gell-Mann, when at length he had ascertained that Gell-Mann was saying "Montreal," "that the purpose of language is communication?"

stolen from http://kottke.org/11/07/kwha-sohn-or-crah-sont

everyday i'm away from you shakes

birthday celebration at the museum
followed by mrowing zim
followed by yoga with friends
followed by feeding dickie
followed by a run
followed by friends
and now a firework show.

but one someone is missing.

one day i will find the right words, and they will be simple.

jack kerouac in dharma bums

i forgot to tell y'all

about the visit we made to reptile rescue. truth is, it wasn't just reptiles. it was every reptile you could think of (monitor lizard, anaconda, boa constrictor, python, rattlesnake, tortoise, bearded dragon, alligator, red-eared slider, etc, etc), amphibians out the yin and the yang (spade-foot toad, chorus frog, salamander, etc, etc) a bird that had a loud mouth, raccoon, coyote, silver fox, red fox, skunk (i pet a baby skunk. bucket list: complete), four rottweilers ready to destroy ("he's only bit four people this year," he says as he shows us a half-inch-deep gash on his left ring finger), a pit-lab ("he won't let anyone within three feet of me"), a room we didn't get to see ("the master bedroom is my venomous room") with tarantulas, scorpions and other delightsome creatures, and on and on.

this dude rescues animals on his own dime. he's a badass.

my birthday was pretty pretty cool.

i love my friends.

he's gonna be pissed when he finds out i blogged this.

sometimes zim will meow and meow as loud as he can and then whiz in the bathtub. i can't explain this behavior.

(right now he's angry at yarn)

even though i feel a little gross from eating TOO MANY COOKIES

i feel on top of the world.

the sky is overcast and a cool breeze is coming through the open windows.
salt lake city is sparkling.
zim is brlack and soft and a genius of cuddles.

and i have the best friends and family in the universe and whatever lays beyond it.

poetry from the bus

DE-TOUR (sing-song voice)
detour, detour
take the detour
we can squeeze through.
you can start thinking skinny thoughts NOW.

i feel one million happy and lucky right now.

gentle kitten soul

i'm trying to make his life comfortable while he's around.

my guts are loved.

can you get to that?

running this time of day

my muscles are warm and pliant from yoga
the air is cool and energizing
someone is barbecuing chicken and it smells like maupiti
all the dogs are taking their owners for walks
olympus is inviting
the golden spruce shines in the alpenglow
the stench of brakes rises off of i-80
my kitten greets me on the front lawn
mosquitoes attempt to bite my shoulders

alan rogers, university of utah

"All scientists are skeptics if they’re any good, but they’re not stubborn about it," he said in a statement. "In science, you have to be able to change your mind when confronted with evidence. It seems to me that learning that skill is important, not only for scientists, but for everybody. It makes us better citizens."

another one from the bus

an exchange between two men, one exiting the bus at the front, and one seated at the back:

front: what and red bull?

back: what? (pulling out earbuds)

front: red bull and what was it?

back: oh, eh, cocktail sauce.

life is such a dark, dreamy thing.

from die antwoord's tribute to leon botha.

"free"

holocene

and at once i knew, i was not magnificent.

the stories and chaos coyote.

i'm looking forward to the navajo basket exhibit that will open in the natural history museum of utah fall 2012. the stories of these baskets and the people who create them are fascinating.

the art, the craft, the time, the dedication, the taboo, the tension, the renaissance.

the above basket was woven by elsie holiday and is available at the twin rocks trading post.

i love the stories so! one i particularly like is "coyote placing the stars." from indigenouspeople.net:

Coyote is just being coyote when he sees the Creator placing the stars in the sky from a bag in a very orderly manner. Coyote asks if he can help and the Creator lets coyote place stars in the sky reminding him to be sure and put the stars up in an orderly manner. Coyote does it correctly, but, as is his nature, coyote becomes impatient and throws the whole bag of stars into the sky distributing the stars helter skelter. The Creator scolds him for his carelessness and for the mess he made. Coyote leaves with his tail between his legs. Soon, however, Coyote goes back to being a coyote, only after that he howls at night when he sees the mess he made with the stars.

i might identify with Coyote.

jonathan franzen says:

you have to love before you can be relentless.