A good day to write

Already 488 words! L* is my inspiration in more ways than one. Her daily blog title gave me my premise for Agapantha’s day and how she looks at the world. a good introduction to the reader. Right now, Agapantha seems an amalgam of my memories and L*s, growing up in LA, visiting familia in Tijuana, teaching first-graders.

Speaking of LA, the students are behind on the reading, so discussion on the Tattooed Soldier lags behind. But they spent time talking about and developing their ideas for their group projects, and that’s a great thing. One student requested I make the Wiki tool available on moodle. I promptly did so, but now I’ll have to read up on the Wiki tool before next class.

Wednesday = 0

Yesterday was a total bust as far as novelling. Too many meetings suck energy.

Ironically, though, one of the meetings was for the Committee on Writing in Ethnic Studies. This a fabulous group: we have some great creative writers and our vision is to raise awareness about the craft and discipline involved in writing. Some folks have been disrespected in their writing, i.e. my book is more valuable than your book because your book is creative and mine is critical. (as if it's easier to publish a book of poetry!)

I have to admit, though, I'm so split about the idea of a creative MA thesis. I suspect I might have internalized some attitudes in my academic training. More likely, though, it's because my creative writing is much less disciplined than my critical writing. (i.e., I need to start putting a lot more discipline into my creative writing, but to do that I have to value it more and let it cut into my "research" time).

But the community is great on this. Really. We have great diversity, in experience, in publiation, in teaching, in vision.

I'm pretty excited about this new community.

Pumping

I did get more writing done last night before bed. Somewhere around six hundred words. Like I said, it's a start.

I'm writing in Tinderbox, so I can work on little projects, then plug them back into an overall scene, rather then writing in Word and feeling like I'm on page one. Too intimidating, as L* so perceptively noted, when she busted me last night.

Of course, the temptation to focus on the software, rather than actually writing, is very great.

Write now Agapantha and Tía Tencha are writing letters to one another. So its an epistolary novel

The novel: Day One

Okay, I'm going ahead with Agapantha.

It's slow going. Priming the pump mostly.

let's talk about food instead!

dinner was a joy tonight! halibut fish packets with rice and baby bok choy. and organic red grapes for dessert. yummy! L* is a culinary genius.

and last night's bread came out rather well (if i do say so myself): rich. flavorful, and wheaty, without too much sweetener. EXCEPT I didn't grease the pan enough and so it stuck and i lost the bottom crust. As long as we have gas and electricty, i can bake bread. but if the grid goes down, we'll need another plan. L* suggest tortillas, but I'm no good at tortillas, whereas i have years of experience baking bread.

Grand Total: 7

Seven little trick-or-treaters. All in the 6-10 year-old range, i'm guessing.

of course, at the end, i was handing out big handfuls of 3 musketeers bars, because nothing is sadder than leftover candy. fortunately, i'm not a big fan of 3 musketeers bars, so there's no shameful scarfing in my future.

now it's time to turn off the porch light and focus on tomorrow's class.

my kitchen is clean. my dough is on its second rising.

the kitties are back in the house. i wouldn't let them in while i was baking, because i knew they would want to tippy-toe across my breadboard. so they cried at the front door until the trick-or-treaters came, and then they ran away.

reading sherman alexie has had me thinking A LOT about growing up in northern new mexico. In fact, i know that several of my buddies had cameos in last night's dream. they looked like gulf war vets. first gulf war.

Trick or Treat?

Okay, I definitely hear the little voices out on the street. Let's see if they brave our house.

dinner and other mundane thoughts

I'm having trouble posting anything--even entries that I've already written, because it's so crazy to try jump back and forth from Normal Life to This Insane World We're Living in.

But now i'm just doing it. And I'm back-posting some journal entries from the last couple of days, even though they feel too frivolous and inane.

Tonight I kneaded my first loaf of bread in fifteen years. have i really been out that long? i think it's coming back to me, like the bicycle. if the pandemic comes, we'll have bread. we'll see if it's a hit at tonight's wine and cheese party.

Baking helps me deal with the loneliness when my baby is off working--it may in fact be the most appropriate solution! Now I have to clean up the kitchen, prep for class, and thus my evening is structured, rather than being a big wasteland of alone-time.

After serving L* much attitude over the the very idea that I not give out candy if home alone, i must admit I'm relieved that no trick-or-treating happened. I peeked out into the neighborhood at twilight and NOBODY had their porch lights on--not even the neighbors with scarecrows and stuff going on.

I made a salad with the last of the lettuce and gobbled up all those little grape-sized tomatoes. sweet bursts of sunshine. I'm still hungry, but I know that when the bread is done, I'll want to eat several slices so I'm saving room.

I also have to pick out a suit to wear to the arraignment tomorrow. I fear my passion for suits is some kind of internalized racism, like wearing a big sign around my neck saying, NO, REALLY: I'M A PROFESSOR.

But then that's what clothes are all about anyway, right? NO, REALLY: I'M A FEMME. NO, REALLY: I'M A QUEER.

Yesterday at the Dia de Los Muertos event on International Blvd., my baby bought me this fabulous RAZA hat. It's a black canvas cowboy-style hat, with a pink mariposa stitched on the front. by Anahuak designs.

Arraignment

The public arraignment is tomorrow at 9 a.m.
567 7th Street, Room #12, San Francisco.

So get your work done early and be there!

Magnets in My Ears

L*'s family had this taunt: "Curlers in your hair! Shame on you!"

It's pretty self-evident, i think, since it immediately brings to my mind don Alfonso's judgments on be-curlered women in fuzzy slippers at the grocery store, and warninga bout what would happen to me if i went that route.

So, anyway, I've noticed that if i spend too much time with audiobooks, there's this weird CHARGED feeling in my head and throat, like my blood is thrumming.

And just last night I realized that my headphones are magnetized. Are yours? can you touch the little suckers together or do they repel one another? Can these magnets in my ears be doing me some harm? Should I switch to the headphones with the least magnetic force?

SF State to Probe Arrest

Finally the Chronicle covers the story!

Independent Commission to investigate racial profiling

SFSU Professor Arrested, Jailed

The Oakland Tribune has picked up the story. Unlike the SF Chronicle.

Restraint

You who have never been asked
for i.d.
for walking your own streets
your own workplace
your own democracy

you who sleep soundly
untroubled by dreams

of strip-searches
orange pajamas
twenty-four hour
threat and humiliation
incarceration

you who've never had to prove
your right to be here
your right to be free

you are quick to urge restraint
on the part of those
who have been
restrained

Writer's Retreat Dream

I was at a writers retreat, only it was on a boat, and we were mostly wearing things like bikinis and sarongs. my body wasn't my body, but the body of some twenty-year-old lean model-type. There was never any actual writing at this retreat.

not a boat, a ship. but we boarded this other ship first, and then there were all these walkways to our ship, but they were very criss-crossy, so there would be these three bridges and they would say L3, L4, L5 (different levels) but you couldn't just tell by looking at them which one went up, which one went across, which one went down. and there would be little fare gates on them, where you had to have your ticket punched (like on BART)

There seemed to be a lot of field trips, to see monsters (sea monsters)

We were all suspected of some crime, and we were being weeded out, and yet we weren't sure if the ones "kicked out" were going free or going to jail. (were the rest of us the suspects, or cleared of suspicion?)

One of the team members was one of those young angular white men: had a very "military recruit" look, all cropped head and cheekbones. Brad? Buddy?

Stubby, the armadillo-porcupine--a member of our team--found his medication (injectible) missing (along with another team members's comb) and so left to go to someone else's cabin to see if it was there. Almost immediately that someone telephoned to say they had the other guy's comb, and so I'm assuming they also have stubby's medication. I tell them Stubby is on his way over. (Was stubby a character in Reservation Blues, or is that another fantasy?)

Things that may have provided the material for this dream: MLo's film-in-progress of lesbians of color escaping a fascist nudist colony; Robert Johnson's novel MIDDLE PASSAGE, set on a slave ship; the comadres' cruises; the approach of National Novel Writing Month (write a novel in november); three Sherman Alexie novels in a row.

Professor arrested

This consumes my thoughts:

Black Studies Professor Arrested
Arrest allegedly linked to racial profiling

Read more...

I write letters calling for immediate and unconditional release
that all charges be dropped
that the patterns and records be fully investigated

this is not an amnesty international urgent action

this is where we live
and work
while crosses burn

The shadow of the Superdome stretches far

It is a shadow that cast light
It is a mirrored lens through which we see
the minority "rich" evacuated
the masses herded and abandoned
a city in crisis
a nation glued to the toob,
waiting for the raping and looting and gang anarchy

in hospitals
decisions were made
who should be saved

in bureacracies
decisions were made
who should be saved

the rest were left,
to feed off one another
like sharks

poor people came together
checked on their neighbors
organized rescue rafts
cooked big pots of stew
held body and soul together

poor people came together
"looted" food and water and maxi pads
brought them home to needy housefuls

poor people came together
marched to freedom
to be turned back at gunpoint
as suburban cops turned private security

none have been named heroes
(a sobriquet reserved for the youth we ship out
to be sent back in boxes,
absent cousins
of this same urban poor)

helicopter grabs, with much footage,
ended unmarked
in the shadow of the overpass
still no supplies
still no escape

now that busing has changed
the inner city demographic
will the diaspora
have right of return?

do the rest of us really believe
it could not happen here?

Romanesco Broccoli

Too weird! Have you seen this stuff?

We got it in our vegetable basket this week. I mean it's beautful!

But, we don't like Broccoli**. or Cauliflower. And Romanesco is a cross between Broccoli and Cauliflower! and a mind-boggling one at that. Definitely looks like a sculpture!

We're good eggs, though, so we'll boldly go.

Last night: Salad with pears, parmesan, and pomegranate. Yummmmmm!

**Chinese broccoli is a whole 'nother story. I could eat Chinese broccoli twice a week!

Meme - Whatchu need?

Got this from Goddess. You do a google search of your name followed by "needs." (be warned, though, there's lots of nasties out there!)

1. Catriona needs to learn about reinforcing her models where they are a bit flimsy.
2. Whilst Kevin has few problems with his commitment, Catriona needs plenty of it to get her thorough the next stage of her journey
3. Baroness Catriona needs waterbearing bottles for May Faire.
4. She believes she needs to regain her honor, but what she really needs is to learn self-acceptance. Catriona is striking figure. She is six feet tall.
5. Catriona believes that we need a strong paradigm shift when it comes to our attitudes about sport and physical activity.
6. Catriona needs to be mindful of planning ahead to avoid any possible asthma flare up.
7. Catriona desperately needs Dominic to claim the child, so she agrees to a bargain.
8. Catriona has broken down her overall learning need into more detailed skills
9. Catriona is afloat on River Deben. She’s a lovely old boat but needs badly needs some attention.

The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven

I'm on a Sherman Alexie roll right now. He's so funny. Not like comedy, although Thomas Builds-the-fire does say he's not a full-blood Indian: "I'm half magician on my mother's side and half clown on my father's". But in a "home truth" kind of way. So far, my favorite story is "a drug called tradition." But then I only got to page 94 reading on public transportation. Still, I guess you can tell a lot about a person by which story they choose.

(I can't believe the first thing I said about him is that he's funny. I hate it when they do that in a book review. Tell you how funny this book is, and then you read it and it's so tragic!)

So I finished Indian Killer on monday. I still keep thinking of it. The Fantasies. What L* would call the border fantasies, I think. Indian Killer and The Wind Done Gone are all swimming around in my head.

I'm now about halfway through Almanac of the Dead. How long has it been since I started that? Looks like I added it to my list four weeks ago. It's too big a book to put down for too long, because there are so many characters it takes a while to remember if these are "new" characters or if you already met them in another part of the novel. Each time I enter a new section, or Book, in the novel, I run up against a wave of resistance. Because the characters are never likable: I never cozy on up to the new characters. So it takes me a long time to be drawn into their stories.

Now with The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven (the whole book), I like Victor, I like most of the characters right away and care what happens to them. It's totally different from Indian Killer.

Chihuahenvy!

L* and I had a lovely evening on Saturday with EMc & J and company, and were totally smitten by Xuey, their tiny Chihuahua. Not only would she jump in my lap and lick my ears, but later in the evening, she made her appearance in a stunning SuperMan outfit, complete with cape. L* was won over by the idea of the little dogs being bred to keep you warm. Xuey has those ears like bat wings: I'll fly away!

Xuey was way cuter in her costume than this dog.

Wish we'd smuggled her home. Although the Nxi was very moody the next day, so she must have sensed our intentions.

(Buddy is also a very cool and mellow guy--I don't mean to damn him with faint praise!)

J's paintings really caught our attention and kept us thinking, as did his riveting stories.

I know we kept going on and on about the view in their apartment, but WOW! Lake merritt at night!

What a wonderful evening with wonderful new friends.

NaNoWRiMo (T-7 days and counting)

So, of the people I challenged, BendyPalm says yes, RaW says yes, JM believes I'm insane. I just got a message back from MachaFemme that i think is a no. My bad. I know they all have other work to do. I just want them to play with me.

Tia Tencha may also make an appearance in Agapantha's novel.
Unless I decide to follow Alexie down the Dark Path.