Sunday, April 28, 2013

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Urban Giraffes

A pair of giraffes.  They live directly across the street from me, in an empty lot that's been cleared for development.

But I can't shake the sneaking suspicion that THEY are actually an IT -- one giraffe, not two.  I think they are a conjoined pair of twins, two head-necks sharing one body like a partial Scylla.  I don't think it's possible for two whole giraffes to stand abreast that close together.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

A Disturbing Dream

My left hand, in waking life.

And this is how it was in a dream, two days ago.  I remember nothing else about the dream.

It is said that what really matters is not so much the dream as the interpretation.  So I'm going to assume it's an auspicious omen.

Saturday, April 20, 2013


I had this idea once that I should do individual 'portraits' of all 1000 sculpted faces of 'Avidya'.  That project never got very far, but here are some of the best ones.

Friday, April 19, 2013

A Brilliant Mushroom

Bright as a miniature model of the Sun in the grass.  If I ate this, would it make me see brilliant colors and lights?

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Intense Thoughts

I don't know if these 'Daimones' are rational beings in the same sense as humans, but I am certain they are conscious and perceptive -- that they feel feelings and think thoughts.  Maybe not the same kinds of feelings and thoughts as those we experience, but minds undoubtedly come in many varieties.  Maybe when they see me and other humans go by they wonder if we have feelings and thoughts like theirs.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Smilodon Man


I don't remember the details because it was a long time ago and probably also because it was such a traumatic experience, but I think I made this object

in memory of the night when, during a group therapy session -- at the time I was seeing a clinical psychologist twice a week, once for individual therapy and once for group session -- I suddenly broke into sobs, cried uncontrollably for maybe ten minutes straight and punched a hole in the wall of the therapist's office (later I had to shell out $50 to have it patched -- who knew I had such strength?).

After that torrent of tears and snot I managed to calm down at last and drove myself home.  I went up the steps to my door and found my cat Blood crouched beside it.  Sometimes Blood would push out the screen window in the back and slip out during the day;  I had intended to have it fixed  but never gotten around to it -- but at least he hadn't gone and got himself lost, but was waiting for me by the door like a good little housecat.  I was so glad to see him and I bent down to pat his head, then felt something wet and sticky.  It turned out to be blood.  Blood on Blood.  I crouched down beside him and looked close, and saw big gashes on his side, one going around his body to his chest.  I freaked -- I started crying all over again and carried him inside -- it must have hurt him terribly to be picked up -- and when I turned on the light I realized I could see right inside his chest cavity;  he'd been sliced open.

Sobbing and in full panic mode, I looked up animal hospitals in the phone book and found one that was open for emergency care (this must have been 10 or 11 PM), ironically close to my therapist's office back in Westwood.  I wrapped Blood in a towel, carried him into the car and drove right back to the clinic in Westwood, where I deposited him on the reception counter and continued to sob.

After the staff had taken Blood inside, I collapsed on the couch and tried to collect myself.  The receptionist gave me a box of tissues and I sat there for what seemed an interminable interlude while they worked to save my pet, blowing my nose every couple of minutes until there was a sizable mound of wadded-up tissue on the coffee table in front of me.

Once the surgery was over, I had to leave Blood there until he was well enough to go home.  And after I did bring him home, with drainage tubes sticking out of him, I laid him down on a pile of towels, where he stayed without moving for three straight days.  I was concerned that he might have been too cold on that floor (I was living in a storefront studio at the time), but on the other hand, maybe the cold felt good against the throbbing stitches.  And once he could get up and move around a little, back he went to the vet's to have the Elizabethan collar installed.  It was probably humiliating for him, but he took it well.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Sunday, April 7, 2013

My Favorite Old Boots

Two days ago the right one of the pair breathed its last.  I have had these boots for many years, and there were periods when I wore them literally every day for months.  When the original heels wore out, I had them replaced and wore them until they began to literally fall apart at the seams.  Then Friday morning the right sole just gave up.

I wore them to Korea back in 2008.  Just as people in other East Asian countries do, Koreans tend to spiff up when going out; their clothes are neat and pressed, their hair is neatly brushed, and everything matches.  So while riding the subway train in Seoul one day, I noticed that everyone sitting across from me was wearing clean, well-shined shoes;  far from being embarrassed about my scuffed, dusty and discolored boots, I wore them proudly as a mark of my American distinction.

As it happened, when the boot gave up the ghost (gave up the 'sole'? hah!) I had just bought a coat at a second-hand shop in Hollywood and was on the way to have it dry-cleaned (BTW, I like to wear second-hand jackets and coats because I don't have to be careful in them;  they come 'pre-broken in', as it were;  and besides, I often see other guys wearing great-looking threads that I would love to wear myself but I can never find them anywhere, so why not just buy other guys' clothes?).  So there I was, carrying a rumpled old winter coat someone gave up, on a warm L. A. morning, walking awkwardly in a cracked flappy boot, with a big fat shoulder bag that was also beginning to fray at the seams -- I probably looked halfway to being a homeless person.

Which reminded me of the last time something similar happened.  I was going home late at night a few years ago.  I had just recently moved into the loft, and I was parking in a lot across the street while waiting for a space to open up in my building.  I had been shopping for groceries and was trudging tiredly toward the crosswalk when the sole of my right shoe suddenly became separated.  Rather than walk in the awkward, flappy shoe, I decided to take it off and carry it, since there was no one around to see -- so as I continued on, walking down an empty downtown sidewalk at night, carrying heavy plastic bags in my right hand and a flappy broken shoe in my left, the same big shoulder bag slung precariously from my sloping shouder, it occurred to me that anyone seeing me just then might well conclude that they were looking at one of the many crazy homeless folk that people downtown L. A., and they would be perfectly justified.

Anyway, at the cleaner's I asked for a piece of tape to try and temporarily mend the boot, but it didn't work very well.  I ended up driving to a shoe store to buy a new pair of shoes to wear home.  I might still take the old pair to a shoe repair shop, though, to see if they are worth repairing.

Synchronistic Event (Of The Verbal Kind) #22

An hour or so ago, I was e-mailing my aunt in Seoul while listening to music (K-pop again^^).  As I typed 'nŏmu' (too much), singer Horan sang "nŏmu".  A couple of minutes later, I was about to attach the photo of my heart-boxes from a few posts ago, and just as I clicked on the photo Horan sang "Listen to my Heart".

Too much heart..?

More Pseudo-Mimicry

Or should that be 'quasi-mimicry' -- which expression better conveys the idea that it's accidental and without utility or purpose?  Not sure, but in any case here is another eventuation of me-almost-stepping-on-plant-just-happening-to-resemble-insect -- in this instance, a big hairy squat-bodied moth.

I wonder if this fascination with mimicry and camouflage is rooted in an unconscious desire on my part to disappear, to be safely immune to being seen and disapproved of.

Related post;  Pseudo-Mimicry


Saturday, April 6, 2013

Yet Another Wonderful Discovery


When I learned that there is an instrumental version of one of my favorite lieder of all time, 'Der Erlkönig' (the Schubert version, that is), for piano, I began to check out the different renditions available for viewing on YouTube.  It's rather a different experience from the original vocal version, but no less beautiful and exciting for that.

But in the course of this search, I came across something amazing -- a performance of the song by Jessye Norman, the American mezzo-soprano.  What a revelation!  I confess I clicked on it with some misgivings, because I was not sure the weighty requirements of the vocal acting would survive intact the transposition to a lady's key -- how ignorant was I!  She brought each of the four parts -- all the drama, excitement, lyrical beauty and terror contained therein -- to vivid life in an unforgettable performance dominated by her sheer physical presence.  I was mesmerized right from the opening notes, stayed that way to the end, then played the video over and over.

Here is a composite image of stills from the video, as a little tribute to the wonderful Jessye Norman, to thank her for making my universe a little larger.

But One Is Freer

William Blake professed to always see double -- the material and spiritual forms of every thing, even of people.

Sam's Hearts

I suppose it's appropriate that most of them are BOXES.  Opening one means having it 'cracked' in half.

Socrates' Daimon Spoke To Him

Mine do not speak;  they just silently reflect my moods, exactingly as a mirror.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Amusing Yet Eerie Cloud Creature

In the second photo, it seems to be turning right to look at something.  Wonder what caught its interest?

[EDIT:  Wait, I just noticed that bird!  It's checking out the bird -- OMG]

Related Post:  "A cloud named Sam"