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brandon williamscraig  

Heading back West

Alas, our time in Burlington has rocketed to a close and we must make our way back across the nation.

The current plan for the remainder (guaranteed to change in some particulars):

Fri 10th Burlington VT to Niagara Falls, NY 8 hrs
Sat 11th Niagara Falls to Arlington Heights 9 1/2 hrs
Sun 12th in Chicago
Mon 13th Chicago to Minocqua, incl. House on Rock
Tues 14th in Minocqua, tour, Circle M Corral, NLSP
Wednesday 15th and Thursday 16th From Minocqua to Yellowstone 20 hours
Friday 17th in Yellowstone to Boise (6 1/2 hrs)
Sat 18th Boise to Crater Lake 8 1/2 hours
Sun 19th Crater Lake to Medford
Mon 20th in Medford
Tues 21st Medford to Berkeley (after breakfast): start unloading, get situated, get good night's sleep
Weds 22nd join YMCA, get things from Warren Ave kitchen, bookcases, closets
Thurs 23rd build bed, bedroom (access 5A San Leandro storage), return to AiBerk
Friday 24th clear some storage, continue organizing
Saturday 25th clear some storage, continue organizing
Sunday 26th rest, church, mime troupe! (wanna come?), prep for Lisa's first day of school

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   | posted by Brandon @ 8/09/2007 02:21:00 PM

 

 

The Big Easy

Every time I've been to and through New Orleans I've had to keep my hand on my wallet, extend and harden the outer boundary of my personal-space, and simply deal with the incredible crush of stereotypical tourists. Certainly due in part to post-Katrina realities, Bourbon Street was marvelously relaxed of a Sunday afternoon. We walked around a bit, had a bite to eat, and enjoyed the Quarter in repose, but didn't feel the infamous Big Easy musky sweetness until we escaped the stretch of pervasive porn purveyors and were drawn in to listen to some fabulous guitar trio blues (ala Stevie Ray) delivered on a venerable and ornately tarnished metaphorical platter by Mark Penton and the Pentones (an excellent sax player showed up and sat in) at the Funky Pirate bar. Besides the bartender, our only companions in the virtually sacramental blues extravaganza were a very drunk, very social, and marvelously Queer middle-aged man and his very straight but loving Great Nephew, who were in town for a funeral. The Uncle and Lisa danced a bit, fun was had by all, and I shall remember them fondly as part of the experience.

Afterward we returned to my classmate Victoria Hippard's lovely Uptown home just off Magazine. She lives in the high-ground "Footprint" and her house didn't sustain any storm damage. It is, as I suspected, a lovely place and very cozy, mirroring the graciousness of our hostess. Her son Daniel is in a performance of Red Sneaks by Liz Swados at the moment and loves to "Pump" (dance creatively guided by a video/scoring machine). His mostly Asian and Latino dancing buddies have given him the competition moniker "The Great White Hope" (aka Great White or GWH). Check out his YouTube appearance below.


I write this between work on my dissertation sitting in the Rue De La Course Coffee House on Magazine (free wi-fi) while Lisa and Victoria have gone to Wholefoods nearby. Tomorrow we head for Florida and a visit with Lisa's Dad.

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   | posted by Brandon @ 7/23/2007 09:02:00 AM

 

 

Peaceful Dilemmas

My earlier post dwelt mostly on the politically motivated demagoguery during the Women's Peace Conference that put me in mind of the contemporary devaluing of authentic criticism. This post attempts to range more widely and tell more of my experience of the event as a whole.

The event began with a ritual in which dozens of women (and men) carried a flag from each of the entities with U.N. recognized sovereignty and led the group antiphonally intoning "May Peace prevail in _______" for each. My mother represented the Maldives and was a bit mortified at not knowing how the country's name is pronounced. Everyone followed her lead loyally, however, wishing that Peace might prevail in Mald~..*_s. Despite the conspicuous absence of the Duchy of Grand Fenwick, the whole thing was rather moving.

Dr. Nia MacKay buslted about being a most effective Director of Communications for the Conference, and took care of everyone in grand style. At one point I had the pleasure of saving the day for an Israeli delegate named Hagit who had not brought her laptop and could therefore not show her presentation. I overheard an advocate for her telling the story of her dilemma and finally offered to provide my laptop for the length of her presentation. Later she came by and graciously thanked me, after which we entered a conversation about the Conference and it's worth, during which she insisted on teaching me that there is no need for teachers. This oft repeated lesson is almost always appreciated.

Dr. Patricia Dodd from Brookhaven
Community College found herself hanging out at the CRS table and blowing off steam on the first day. She had submitted a paper for consideration to present and had been sandbagged, she believes, because it made no bones about the ethnic cleansing in progress in Palestine. The Conference organizers decided in advance that they would exclude and discourage talk about the war against the people of Iraq and the current activities of Israel. This they couched in terms of being "non-partisan" which, of course, makes her irate, as she spend time in the middle east on a semi-regular basis and feels pretty alone among folks who talk about peace and then stay home.

After Betty Williams expressed her ire (see previous post) several women in the power structure stomped around as though they had received a personal affront. I suggest that nobody involved is stupid. A significant quantity of the middle aged, white, wealthy women at the helm (it is Dallas after all, and that is how moderately "progressive" things most often get done) are more and less aware of strategy and tactics, and more and less identified as activists. They knew, as they chose to be "non-partisan" and quash certain voices that every laureate would speak against the atrocities the U.S. is committing under the banner of the agenda abbreviated as "BUSH." Betty Williams was followed by Jody Williams who beat that drum as well, not till the skin was peeling back but sufficiently to let everyone know where she stands. I don't agree with where they drew their line but I'm certain it was consciously scribed.

One of the highlights in my experience of the conference was my interview with Sharon Welch, who outlined several of the more vital points of my dissertation during her keynote. If you'd like to hear it click "POSTS" on the Gcast player on the right and chose "In the Midst with Integrity"
Here is a list of authors mentioned:
The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of Building Peace by John Paul Lederach
The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Indigenous Americas) by Thomas King
Manifest Manners: Narratives on Postindian Survivance by Gerald Vizenor

Also my mother introduced me to Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela, from the South African Peace and Reconciliation process. Lovely woman with whom I'd love to speak more about her take on the psychologies of conflict currently in vogue.

Peace laureate and candidate for the Presidency of Guatemala, Rigoberta Menchú Tum, was a pleasure to hear, if done a profound disservice by mistranslation during her keynote.

Local guitarist, Christopher McGuire, presented an amazingly virtuosic classical guitar concert, in beautiful counterpoint with the next evening's performance by Sara Hickman who has always been a favorite of mine. In the "Blast From The Past" category, I ran into two regional theater actors from my past at the Dallas Theater Center, including Pam Hoffman who directed Tall Texas Tales and was one of my children's theater instructors even before that adolescent success.

Finally, it was my pleasure to speak with and videotape Lucy Mashua. A Kenyan who "has worked for African women throughout her life on the issues of female genital mutilation, early childhood marriage, forced abortions, human rights abuses, and the abuse of women...has worked with the International Somalia Rehabilitation Association and is a member of the United Nations Association Dallas. I will post the video to YouTube and here as well so she can use it to appeal for greater attention for her work and the women and men she wants to reach. I'll bring this post back to the top of the blog when that happens.

This post took some time to complete and is out of chronological order as a result. After the time it needs to be the lead post I will return it to it's original place in the vicinity of 7/17/07

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   | posted by Brandon @ 7/22/2007 10:25:00 PM

 

 

Zoopy!

Nicole has struck Tennessee! Lisa's and Nicole's Uncle Jack took us to see Nicole on stage with The Zoopy Show. There will be audio tracks and video from the show. In the meantime here are some photos.






This post will take some time to complete and is out of chronological order as a result. After it has been the lead post for a bit I will return it to it's original place in the vicinity of 7/8/2007

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   | posted by Brandon @ 7/22/2007 09:33:00 PM

 

 

Dreaming about dreaming

The Walk(drive)about Plan right now: we leave tomorrow for OK, then TN and KY to return on the 9th for the peace conference July 10th -16th and then head east through the south.

This morning I decided to sleep in instead of going with Mom to Sunday School. I intended to go to church, relying on Lisa to wake me when she returned from her sojourn to obtain coffee and a pastry from the Nodding Dog to shower and dress.

Shortly after we arrived in Dallas, Lisa had a moderately traumatic experience getting lost. To bookend our stay she had another, coming back from the same place, this morning. When she called me, fifteen minutes before church was scheduled to start, her morning had not gone terribly well so far. Needless to say, we missed church.

While she was losing herself I was dreaming a dream.


Click on the small arrow button above to hear the recording.

While she was wandering lost in the van I was dreaming of being lost on the streets of Dallas. I'm working extensively with metaphors associated with the color blue while writing my dissertation. They just keep popping up everywhere as I write toward Bluevolution". The station wagon I was driving and by which I was left was a deep, certain blue.

The questions that interest me are not the analytical/scientistic ones like "are the reality of dreams and waking reality related or not?". Rather I wonder at how they seem related and how my thinking and feeling changes when I notice the relationships that present themselves as obvious but non-linear and evocative but not subject to the scope of my capacity to comprehend.

A big part of the dissertation I'm writing and community we are building has to do with shifting in perception back and forth between the literal (myths of Progress, Science, and mechanized Industrialism) and the metaphorical (myths of Soul, Humanities, Poetics). Dr. Dan Noel was convinced that the contemporary search with which many folks are identifying themselves as "spiritual but not religious" has to do with a desire for a more conscious metaphoricality in relationship to spirit and soul realms, a more purposeful fiction-consciousness that acknowledges the overlaps of the poetic, psychological, literary, spiritualigious :) , and the fundamental systemic presupposition of unconsciousness- that which may be related to through imagination but never fully known - shared by all these approaches.

In wondering in mystery, I am interested in a transition from both the power-base clergy authenticated by apostles of a dominating idea but also from the "native medicine man" sprung fully clad from the head of a colonizing Nostalgia. Both are invested by the contemporary scientistic imagination in knowing something, some sympathetic prestidigitation, that gives access to some place inaccessible to "normal" people. I wonder if Noel meant to imply not a neoshamanism, though that is the word he chose, but something less Nouveau that follows our revisioning of what is native to the spirit and soul in a contemporary contextlessness seriously lacking in nativity. I thought about referring to this imagination in creative motion as post-shamanism but heard Thomas Holcroft's admonition ringing in my ears that "The past is a guidepost, not a hitching post."Still post-shamanism might work, or how about metashamanism? The metashaman is certain to know some things that I don't, but the reverse is also guaranteed to be true. What attracts me is that she knows differently some how, in some way that I can feel at first and then understand, but which requires some sustained practice to continue deeply enough to apply. It is the way of her knowing, the art in her process that I find compelling. She moves by way of the imagination, making fiction, making community that is aware of itself dreaming its own consciousness, identity, purpose, and culture.

An additional thought.
Gom Jabar
from wikipedia (see link above)

"The gom jabbar is a fictional device appearing in Frank Herbert's Dune universe. According to Terminology of the Imperium, the glossary of the novel Dune, the gom jabbar is "The high-handed enemy; that specific poison needle tipped with meta-cyanide used by Bene Gesserit Proctors in the death-alternative test of human awareness." In Dune, Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam uses a gom jabbar to test Paul Atreides just prior to his departure to Arrakis. This "humanity test" is carried out with a box that produces pain by nerve induction, causing severe pain that is strictly psychological. Only a human is considered to be able to withstand the urge to take the hand out of the box. Any person who does withdraw their hand is stung with the gom jabbar, causing instant death. Later in the novel, Paul's sister Alia uses the "Atreides gom jabbar" to kill the evil Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. It is also possible that the phrase Gom Jabbar may cover other methods of death with a similar aim, as Paul Muad'Dib tells Reverend Mother Helen Gaius Moheim, "I remember your gom jabbar, you remember mine. I can kill you with a word."

In context between the Butlerian Jihad and presupposing the animality of humanity, the test from Frank Herbert's Dune novels implies that to be human means not only being able to endure pain but being able to suffer on purpose. A machine (outlawed after the Jihad) simply ignores pain (a contemporary virtue) and an animal simply flinches away. The human, knowing death in advance, choose suffering in order to survive metaphorically and literally. What the reviewer for wikipedia doesn't understand/state is that the "other forms of death" uses the literal needle as a metaphor for the entire process - as test, to discern and then form humanity through suffering and death, etc.

Noel (see above) uses the idea of Castaneda's work being "shamanovels", purposefully fictive in order to create an environment wherein imagination rules, teaches, deceives, acts culturopoetically (witness the growth of "neoshamanism") in the making of the world.

I find myself thinking of using "Gom Jabbar" as a perfect piece of terminology for a bluevolved metashamanism. It is obviously from fiction and therefore almost cannot be misinterpreted literally. It evokes a complex of images suitable to an imaginal journey into interrelated metaphors in which the kind of thinking is naturally exposed to the initiate. Very cool. This may find its way into further development.


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   | posted by Brandon @ 7/01/2007 09:24:00 AM

 

 

Since the experiences of Memorial Day Weekend, I've received several compassionate and perspicacious responses. Several conversations by email seem appropriate to share, so I've created an entry (please click here or scroll down) for posts belonging to those related issues.

Following the Gasshuku and demonstration in San Diego, Lisa and I headed for Oxnard for a dissertation writing intensive with a professional researcher and graduate writing coach. Basically, while Lisa sunbathed and relaxed, I enjoyed two straight days of focused writing and have some very satisfying results, even though the page quantity I had hoped for did not materialize, due in part to needing to pay less and therefore receive less personal attention. The big benefit was a full outline with scope boundaries and page targets, as well as a new discipline for the writing itself. Now it is time to produce, after a few days effectively "off" for exploration and working on the part of the trip that needs to feel more like vacation and less like a race toward a deadline.

Somewhere between San Diego or Oxnard and the desert Serenity experienced AC failure. The desert heat was, in my humble opinion, not as intense as I have felt it before but it certainly got our attention streaming in the vents and the occasional open window. Francisco reclined on his cushion and panted quite convincingly as he worked on his impression of a hot dog.

The Grand Canyon was, well, Grand. Last time through we stopped for a few hours at the South Rim. This time we returned to the rim but also visited the Tusayan Ruin and Museum and heard the talk by Ranger Brian (pictured in this video) there. Quite a guy. He did his undergrad in archeology and spends his off time walking among other ruins with his wife and discovering unsurveyed sites which they photograph and report. He told stories from various traditions descended from the "Ancient Puebloans" (don't call them Anasazi - that's a Navajo word which basically means dangerous aliens or "the bad guys" - much better to use the Spanish invader's word originated on this continent to condescend to the savages). I kept my mouth shut as best I could and he told some wonderful Zuni stories at what remains of the Tusayan site and introduced the idea of Kiva to a bunch of folks who would otherwise probably have never heard of the idea.

We also drove to Desert View and climbed the tower there, a complex example of what I call "culturopoiesis", or culture-making. An anglo architect designed this building to fit in and celebrate indigenous culture. An at least partly assimilated native artist created wall paintings based in historical narrative for the inner walls. Through a synthesis of cultural understanding and misunderstanding an edifice was created which, I believe, serves to highlight both the beauty and dilemmas of indigenousity, invasion, and influence.

On the way back to our campsite, Coyote visited. He was standing on a side road keeping track of the four-leggeds passing in wheeled boxes and regarded us as we slowed and passed through his world. The following morning I had a dream which he may have brought, about Lisa's father being super-polite, followed by an expanded new facility for Aikido of Berkeley.

Then we departed for Tucson to visit Eric and Brian. They have welcomed us with amazing food and drink, excellent recommendations of auto mechanics, worthwhile conversation, and a place for Francisco to be able to relax, cool off, and poop on the floor, alas. It turns out that the sudden change to extremes of everything (schedule/lack of routine, temperatures, etc) take their toll on two-legged critters. A slightly more obviously impact, however, is on four-leggeds. This morning, Francisco didn't get out of the van in quite enough time and shared with our bed the contents of both his stomach and bowels. These evacuations began a day otherwise dominated by sitting in a Firestone office during van repair including an oil change and system inspection, AC repair (the compressor manifold ground wire to the chassis was too short and engine vibration eventually snapped it, in addition to the compressor being chronically overcharged, presumably by the Iron Mountain fleet mechanics previously in charge of the vehicle), lock repair for the side door still suffering from the break-in attempt and, finally, the turn signal relay assembly so when we lift or depress the turn signal lever on the steering column it goes "click - clock" and continues until changed.

I'm am obliged to say, at this point, that, should you find yourself in Tucson and in need of automotive repair, I heartily recommend Kim Danielson at Firestone Complete Auto (520) 722-3080 [7950 E. Speedway and Pantano]. Kim charged us only what was required and then went way beyond the call of duty, including building a new lock cylinder from parts supplied from Ford (instead of a complete lock assembly). I wrote most of this while sitting in their waiting room as I worked on converting and profiling the mp3s from the Nutrition and Health conference for a deliverable for Conference Recording Service (which continues to help pay our bills). I also need to point out that without a generous parting gift from our San Leandro neighbors, Claire and Phil, this would have been rather difficult to manage. Lisa and I are very thankful.

Tomorrow (now today, I guess) we head for Carlsbad and the cavern tours, by way of Agua Caliente and Seguaro National Park, but bypassing Biosphere II and probably Tombstone.

Dallas, here we come! Can't wait to squeeze some Keepins, currently visiting The Mom.

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   | posted by Brandon @ 6/03/2007 12:05:00 AM

 

 


Flight Plan (subject to change with or without notice) as of evening May 29th in Oxnard, CA) right on almost the cleanest beach we've ever seen). Note the Epworth TShirt. I miss home already.
  • Wed 30th driving to Prescott and crashing with Susan Adams (Director of The Leadership Center at Yavapai College of the Arizona Civic Leadership Initiative) that night.
  • Thu 31st all day is spent at the Grand Canyon
  • Fri morning June 1st driving south to Tucson (seeing cool stuff along the way) to spend time with Eric and Brian.
  • Staying there until leaving June 3rd, Sunday morning, headed for Roswell by Sunday night
  • Monday 4th we explore there and then Carlsbad. Tuesday the 5th we leave Carlsbad and arrive in Dallas in time for a big family dinner before the Keepins head north Wednesday morning early. In Dallas we'll stay a while as I write like mad again, see folks, train at North Texas Aikido, etc.
  • From there we'll go to Mason, San Antonio, and Austin at some point (for me to give an Aikido seminar) and return.
Travelogue to follow here.

Click here for our Flight Plan map thus far. If that doesn't work, try this http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?f=q&amp;amp;hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=113377647598955470334.00000112dba90a4fcf04a&ll=32.755879,-96.845537&spn=0.00102,0.002266&amp;amp;t=k&z=19&om=1

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   | posted by Brandon @ 5/29/2007 10:56:00 PM

 

 

Lotta Flux

Aeon's sister? Topless Philosophy Professor?

We watched The Interpreter last night in the van, on the asphalt previously known as our parking spot, outside the apartment previously known as our home. You may have noticed how, during extreme circumstances, the world seems more full of portentous synchronicities and similar. I was tempted to begin this post with an exchange between the characters played by Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman and call it dead = gone =? dead.

Tobin Keller: How do you feel about him?
Silvia Broome: I don't care for him.
Tobin Keller: Wouldn't mind if he were dead?
Silvia Broome: I wouldn't mind if he were gone.
Tobin Keller: Same thing.
Silvia Broome: No it isn't.

In a way dead and gone go together and gone feels parallel to dead such that having no home brings up all kinds of uncomfortable associations and fear.

We are in flux. Previous infrastructure is gone and new ways of being are required to stay sane and functional and take advantage of the freedom now possible.

Later, of course, after we do all the things for which we are responsible.

Hee hee heee, haaahh, ho, hooh hoooooo....
Ahh, crap.
Hmmm.

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   | posted by Brandon @ 5/07/2007 11:00:00 AM

 

 

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