24 posts tagged “happiness”
This totally gratuitous cat shot is brought to you by Lori! Whose old camera was waiting for me on my doorstep when I got home tonight. Which camera is like 20 gazillion times better than the 1 megapixel dinosaur I've been taking photos on for the last five years. This is Richter showing his gratitude by chewing on the strap.
MOYERS: So the experience of God is beyond description, but we feel compelled to try to describe it?
CAMPBELL: That’s right. Schopenhauer, in his splendid essay called "On an Apparent Intention in the Fate of the Individual," points out that when you reach an advanced age and look back over your lifetime, it can seem to have had a consistent order and plan, as though composed by some novelist. Events that when they occurred had seemed accidental and of little moment turn out to have been indispensable factors in the composition of a consistent plot. So who composed that plot? Schopenhauer suggests that just as your dreams are composed by an aspect of yourself of which your consciousness is unaware, so, too, your whole life is composed by the will within you. And just as people whom you will have met apparently by mere chance became leading agents in the structuring of your life, so, too, will you have served unknowingly as an agent, giving meaning to the lives of others, The whole thing gears together like one big symphony, with everything unconsciously structuring everything else. And Schopenhauer concludes that it is as though our lives were the features of the one great dream of a single dreamer in which all the dream characters dream, too; so that everything links to everything else, moved by the one will to life which is the universal will in nature.
It’s a magnificent idea – an idea that appears in India in the mythic image of the Net of Indra, which is a net of gems, where at every crossing of one thread over another there is a gem reflecting all the other reflective gems. Everything arises in mutual relation to everything else, so you can’t blame anybody for anything. It is even as though there were a single intention behind it all, which always makes some kind of sense, though none of us knows what the sense might be, or has lived the life that he quite intended.
MOYERS: And yet we all have lived a life that had a purpose. Do you believe that?
CAMPBELL: Wait a minute. Just sheer life cannot be said to have a purpose, because look at all the different purposes it has all over the place. But each incarnation, you might say, has a potentiality, and the mission of life is to live that potentiality. How do you do it,’ My answer is, "Follow your bliss." There’s something inside you that knows when you’re in the center, that knows when you’re on the beam or off the beam, And if you get off the beam to earn money, you’ve lost your life. And if you stay in the center and don’t get any money, you still have your bliss.
MOYERS: I like the idea that it is not the destination that counts, it’s the journey.
CAMPBELL: Yes. As Karlfried Graf Durckheim says, "When you’re on a journey, and the end keeps getting further and further away, then you realize that the real end is the journey."
The Navaho have that wonderful image of what they call the pollen path. Pollen is the life source, The pollen path is the path to the center. The Navaho say, "Oh, beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty to the right of me, beauty to the left of me, beauty above me, beauty below me, I’m on the pollen path,"
MOYERS: Eden was not, Eden will be.
CAMPBELL: Eden is. "The kingdom of the Father is spread upon the earth, and men do not see it."
MOYERS: Eden is – in this world of pain and suffering and death and violence?
CAMPBELL: That is the way it feels, but this is it, this is Eden. When you see the kingdom spread upon the earth, the old way of living in the world is annihilated. That is the end of the world, The end of the world is not an event to come, it is an event of psychological transformation, of visionary transformation. You see not the world of solid things but a world of radiance.
Speaking of beauty and a world of radiance, Saturday night Carol and Dan and I gathered with several hundred other folks in Dolores Park to participate in composer Phil Kline's annual Unsilent Night. In a year where I no longer have a church to go to on Christmas Eve, there was nothing better for me to do to mark the season than this ritual of music and art. And as we walked through the Mission, Mr. Kline's gorgeous music pouring from hundreds of boomboxes, I realized once again that, for me, just living in the Bay Area constitutes being on the right path.
My parents solved my home computer woes once and for all by gifting me with a gorgeous new machine for Christmas, one with a flat-screen monitor and a processor so zippy it transferred all 10,000 of my music files in less than 20 minutes. I donated my old computer to a re-use and green recycling non-profit in Berkeley, and while I was at it donated some clothes to goodwill and gave Fill Up America some money to support their Christmas Dinner.
At the Contemporary Jewish Museum - The Jewish Identity Project: New American Photography. Such a great exhibit to visit not just on Christmas day, when the CJM traditionally has a Family Day, but any time. And a true celebration of diversity.
Unpublished drawing by Manolo Blahnik of fantasy summer shoes, 2000
At Receiver Gallery - the group show I Think We Better Split Up. Even though they're known for being jerks and ignoring their email, Poketo actually does manage to pull together some great artists, among them Susie Ghahremani, Esther Pearl Watson, Stella Im Hultberg, and Aya Kondo. Go to this show to support the artists, not Poketo.
At Giant Robot - the group show Printed Matter. All screenprints, all amazing, and oh the lust that filled my heart for the Daniel Clowes Eightball cover. I was also drooling over the Little Friends of Printmaking concert posters, not to mention adorable prints by Souther Salazar and Saelee Oh. It's almost not natural how much I love a good screenprint.
As for the Throwing Muses show at the Great American Saturday night, words cannot describe. If you listened to my show yesterday you would have heard me try (and fail) to express myself, but I will simply repeat: Kristin Hersh is a goddess. I seriously almost passed out as her voice built from a growl to a scream during Shimmer. Also: her husband is the cutest band husband ever. And Throwing Muses fans are surprisingly polite and well-mannered. Probably because we're all old.
Yesterday afternoon Aimee and Sophie and I visited the Crucible for their Gifty Holiday Art Sale 2006. Happiness was running smack into Raven, Suzanne, and Jeremy at the Made With Molecules table, and also just seeing all of the amazing stuff people had made with glass, metal, plastic, glowy bits...among many many other materials. The Crucible also had many of their furnaces going full blast, and I was totally inspired to try to find time to take a class. If nothing else, next year I'm saving all of my holiday gift spending money for that sale.
The Daily Show jazzes up Al Jazeera:
Watch as "The Daily Show's" Samantha Bee offers her advice to "Americanize" the new English version of Al Jazeera.
Sylvie Fleury: Delicious. Shopping bags and contents, 1994
At Giant Robot - group show Dinosaur Party. Dozens of artists contributed handmade toys, games, and other diversions for this show. I particularly loved Kellie Bowman's watercolor representation of a game of Red Rover, Lana Kim's stuffed Etch-A-Sketch, Susie Ghahremani's owl mobile, and Martin Cendreda's paper dolls.
At the Shooting Gallery - Collect My Thoughts: New Works by Anne Faith Nicholls. Nicholls's work is wonderful to begin with, sort of a cross between Margaret Kilgallen and Clare Rojas with extra foxes thrown in for good measure. But then for this show she also decorated the gallery with an intriguing collection of ephemera (bottles, discarded tools, old luggage) that enhances the poignancy of her paintings. Perfect rainy-afternoon viewing.
At Southern Exposure - Packard Jennings: Lottery Tickets. Mr. Jennings is already my hero for having inserted a Mussolini action figure he made into a Wal-Mart (and for then filming his attempt to purchase it at checkout). Now, as part of SoEx's program of public art projects, he has created his own brand of lottery tickets, to be distributed in four corner stores throughout the Bay Area. The recipient wins a fun fact about the local area instead of money. I arrived at the gallery Friday night too late for his discussion about the project, but I'm determined to collect a full set of his scratchers.
I missed SF SantaCon 2006 on Saturday because I was busy DJing, and anyway my Santa costume is still at the cleaners. I do have to say that when your anarchic Santa event gets listed on Citysearch as a pick of the weekend, I think that makes it ever-so-slightly less anarchic. Still, it sounds like tourists and small children aplenty were confused by the goings-on, and for that I call it a successful jam.
Epic shopping was to be had at 12 Galaxies Sunday afternoon, with scads of local designers packing the place out for Winter Fashion Fest 2006. Good music and alcoholic drinks only helped lubricate the experience. I am incredibly pleased to report that I saw a ton of Alternative Apparel shirts for sale, with many awesome patterns silkscreened onto them. And all of the American Apparel tees were in the remainders bins. Take that, fuckers!
This Modern World's extremely subjective Year in Review:
Tom Tomorrow shows you how things started bad and got worse.
The Jolly Jellicle Cats: Cover similar to the 1956 edition
Friday night, GAMH:
After having seen Xiu Xiu at the Noise Pop festival earlier this year, there was no doubt in my mind that this show was going to rule. And indeed it did. The intensity of their music translates surprisingly well when they play it live, especially with the addition of a drummer this time round. Last time Dave and I observed something of a mass exodus for their part of the show, and this time the crowd was still a little sparse but heavily devoted. Caralee had a few stuffed animals perched next to her on stage that she never commented on...Clearly they were just there to observe. One of my favorite moments in the evening was when she took the time to carefully adjust them in a break between tunes, and then launched straight into the ruckus that is Boy Soprano. Love.
Normally the words "flash mob" touch off a feeling of hatred deep within my heart, but for a Mob of Waldos I was willing to make my way to the Ferry Building. Truth be told I was just looking for an excuse to get a Saigon pork sandwich from Out The Door, and hazelnut praline macaroons from Miette...But I digress. I myself wore no stripey sweater or pompom hat, but instead sat on the steps in the square in front of the building munching my sandwich and doing my best non-participatory observation while the Waldos and Wendas appeared from all corners. What did they do exactly? Well, mostly they stood around, in stripey sweaters and pompom hats. But the tourists sure loved it.
At the Shooting Gallery - Lee Harvey Roswell: Slapstick. Roswell's new batch of paintings refract sepia-toned old Hollywood through his expert surrealist eye. Some are highly amusing, some are a bit disturbing. The artist was on hand at the opening Saturday evening made up in clownish white-face, a costuming element also chosen by the band of minstrels performing old-timey tunes for the listening pleasure of those in the gallery.
Saturday night, Hemlock Tavern:
Local band the Lovely Public perform entirely appealing indie punk circus music. Heidi says check them out. Black Fiction were headlining the show, but I had just taken my first dose of anti-malaria medication earlier in the evening and was supergrogtastic and could not make it any further into the night. As I walked up Hemlock alley back to my car I encountered a cute Australian DJ crouched on the sidewalk yelling excitedly into her cellphone, and a group of ladies and gentlemen strolling along in formal gowns and tails. I love the city.
You see, you've got to take them both out:
As Congress begins its lame-duck session today and looks forward to a new House majority leader next year, a reminder from BumperActive.com that regime change begins at home.
Such were the joys: Children watching television, father reading newspaper, USA, c.1950s
from the Booksmith:
"In her acclaimed Persepolis books and in Embroideries, Marjane Satrapi rendered the events of her life and times in a uniquely captivating and powerful voice and vision. Now, in Chicken with Plums, she turns that same keen eye and ear to the heartrending story of her great-uncle, a celebrated Iranian musician who gave up his life for music and love."
Standing room only at the Booksmith Friday night to hear Ms Satrapi. She is so so amazing.
Friday night, The Independent:
Mouse On Mars
I was remembering that the last time I saw Mouse On Mars was over three years ago, at Slim's, the weekend before I took that fateful spontaneous trip to New York. I had invited my boycrush to go with me to the show, and when he left me a voice mail to say he wasn't going to make it and to apologize for going all missing in action lately, I heard a distinctly female squeal of protest in the background. The uneasy feeling that squeal stirred in my stomach was confirmed when I came home from the show to see that he'd posted that he'd met a girl. Hence, New York four days later, and all of the trauma that came down on my head six months later. But I don't blame Mouse On Mars for any of that, they're fabulous. Friday night Kid 606 had just delivered a mind-blowing set when MOM took the stage. "We liked Kid 606 a lot! We just think he was a little too...ambient." Thus upping the ante, they proceeded to seriously rock my world and to scratch the itch I'd been feeling for some good oontz oontz oontz. And then some. Anyone who thinks watching people make music on laptops is dull should see what a lively show those two put on.
At CCA - Prophets of Deceit. This is a group show that brings together work that explores the power of cults and messianic prophecies, and it manages to touch on everything from Crowley to Manson to Waco. I never cease to be impressed at the quality of CCA's shows, and this one is a doozy. It includes pieces such as Craig Baldwin's brilliant alternative history of the alien invasion of planet Earth, Rod Dickinson's real-time reenactment of the Waco siege, Christian Jankowski's eerie 16mm Mystery, and Joachim Koester's photographs of the remnants of Aleister Crowley's Mediterranean villa and his "room of nightmares". I was feeling genuinely jumpy by the time I was done walking through the show.
At little tree - Maria Forde: A Strange 31 Years. One painting for each year of her life, which, given that she's almost exactly my age, were filled with pop culture references that I understood immediately. Some of them were more personal, and those were poignant too. The gallery is just around the corner from Dema and Ritual, you know you want to go...
Saturday night, GAMH:
Voxtrot
No one unleashes my inner teenybopper like Voxtrot. I've seen them four times this year, and I'm not sick of them yet. I squeal, I jump up and down, I calmly observe how freaking cute the bass player is. Ah, the confidence of youth. Dave pointed out that I was not the most rabid fan there, however. That would have been the blonde in the balcony above the stage who looked so ready to fling herself over the edge directly at the band that we both feared for her safety.
1-866-OUR VOTE:
People for the American Way's Election Protection project launches www.MyPollingPlace.com and, more importantly, 1-866-OUR-VOTE, the only national polling assistance hotline staffed by live operators trained to provide assistance to all voters. If you encounter any problems tomorrow, you know who to call. (Also check out AlterNet's voter protection resource list.)
Herman De Vries: Joy Joy, Netherlands, 2003
An odd weekend, most of it called off due to illness. I'm just grateful that I briefly felt well enough to do the things most important to me (KALX fundraising + Santa Cruz picnic + last Northminster service ever), but otherwise I skipped the shows I had tickets for and the art openings I wanted to see. And thank goodness for my amazingly beautiful and talented and creative and loving friends, but I confess I'm still feeling pretty sick and down in the dumps. I feel like the one made of lead compared to everyone else's gold and silver.
The scariest thing this Halloween:
Bill Amend's Sunday Foxtrot drops knowledge about problems with our electoral system, but that's not the scariest thing.
Whoever embraces a woman is Adam. The woman is Eve.
Everything happens for the first time.
I saw something white in the sky. They tell me it is the moon, but
What can I do with a word and a mythology.
Trees frighten me a little. They are so beautiful.
The calm animals come closer so that I may tell them their
Names
The books in the library have no letters. They spring forth when I
Open them.
Leafing through the atlas I project the shape of Sumatra
Whoever lights a match in the dark is inventing fire.
Inside the mirror an Other waits in ambush.
Whoever looks at the ocean sees England.
Whoever utters a line of Lillencron has entered into battle.
I have dreamed Carthage and the legions that destroyed
Carthage.
I have dreamed the sword and the scale
Praised be the love wherein there is no possessor and no
Possessed, but both surrender.
Praised be the nightmare, which reveals to us that we (have?) the power
To create hell
Whoever goes down to a river goes down to the Ganges.
Whoever looks at an hourglass sees the dissolution of an empire.
Whoever plays with a dagger foretells the death of Caesar.
Whoever dreams is a very human being.
In the desert I saw the young Sphinx, which has just been
Sculpted.
There is nothing else so ancient under the sun.
Everything happens for the first time, but in a way that is eternal.
Whoever reads my poems is inventing them.
--Jorge Luis Borges: from Selected Poems, translated by Stephen Kessler, Argentina, 1981
Friday night, Swedish Hall:
As brooding singer/songwriters go, you can't do much better than Damien Jurado. He performed at the Swedish accompanied by cellist Jenna Conrad and multi-instrumentalist Eric Fisher. Jurado declared that he's no longer interested in playing by himself, and that Jenna and Eric make him feel much more comfortable onstage: "They're like a warm blanket." I have to say that a little bit of cello and drums is a gorgeous addition to Jurado's already-beautiful music, but he closed with a couple solo tunes that still had me sitting in the back of the hall with silent tears running down my cheeks.
After an early morning fundraiser shift at KALX Saturday morning, and fortified by fried-eggs-and-bacon-on-a-baguette from Meal Ticket, I made my way over to Fort Mason for the fourth annual Studio Nocturne, part of Open Studios weekend 3. The Nocturnes are a group of photographers who specialize in taking pictures at night, and I was highly impressed with the quality of work on display. I was especially drawn to Tim Baskerville's black-and-whites of old streetcars and his full-moon photography of Death Valley, and when he mentioned that he's taking a group out to Furnace Creek, Zabriskie Point, and Rhyolite in just a few weeks I almost signed up on the spot. But a weekend in Death Valley two weeks before Africa isn't really practical I suppose.
from the Booksmith:
"Best American Comics 2006 - the inaugural volume in the familiar 'Best American' series - collects thought-provoking, evocative stories culled from graphic novels, pamphlet comics, newspapers, magazines, mini-comics, and the web."
Editors Anne Moore and Harvey Pekar were on hand at the All Saint Church Saturday night as well as local contributors Justin Hall, John Porcellino, and Esther Pearl Watson. Each of the writer/artists did a quick slideshow presentation showing some of their work and Moore and Pekar talked about what went into getting the book put together. I especially loved Porcellino's tale of performing mosquito abatement inside a huge chemical plant. Chris Ware will be editing next year's collection...I can't wait!
Saturday night, the Fillmore:
I was so happy Tammy and Todd found me before the show got started, because not only were they able to share the joy of WHY?'s performance with me (imagine They Might Be Giants crossed with Neutral Milk Hotel with some seriously rockin' xylophone thrown in for good measure) but their mere presence kept me awake if not entirely alert during some of Yo La Tengo's more drawn-out reflective/stoner musical sequences. The show was outstanding, and Yo La played a wide range of material from their oeuvre and of course a ton of covers, including Bob Dylan and Lou Reed. After three encores the audience finally let them leave the stage and go to bed.
Seven Days at Minimum Wage:
Every day this week join host Roseanne Barr for a new segment of interviews about life at minimum wage.
Happy God: Ganesh enthroned. From the 12th cen. Pala period, India.
At Southern Exposure - Mission Lake Project. While the old Southern Exposure space in the Potrero is undergoing an earthquake retrofit, SoEx is operating out of a small storefront in the Mission and concentrating on public art projects such as this one by Ledia Carroll. Carroll has mapped out the perimeter of the old Lake Dolores, which was filled in to create what we now know as the Mission, and will be tracing its outline through the city streets with a trail of blue chalk. A bike race around the lake perimeter and a "lakeside" BBQ will be taking place this weekend as well. Carrie and I stopped by the opening at Southern Exposure Friday night to check out the accompanying exhibit, which consists of an example of the chalk line under plexiglass on the floor, and, my favorite, maps of the historical Bay Area overlaid with the current city grid.
Friday night, Cafe Du Nord:
The Long Winters
What Made Milwaukee Famous
After an epic dinner at 2223 and some epic shopping on Carrie's part at the soon-to-be-closed-forever Tower Records on Market, we waltzed our fine selves down the street to Du Nord. And oh lord what a great show. I'd actually sold my ticket to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Architecture in Helsinki once I found out the Long Winters were playing on the same night, and I was not a bit sorry. Austin kids What Made Milwaukee Famous started out with their sweet and poppy indie rock, culminating in a silly string bath for birthday boy and lead singer Michael Kingcaid. And then the Long Winters came on and destroyed me, in the best possible way. As I was watching them set up I was thinking to myself, how is it that these scruffy, unassuming guys from Seattle make music that brings me to tears? It was pure joy to see them in such an intimate venue, even as uncomfortably crowded as it was. At one point John Roderick paused to size up the crowd: "I'm not intimidated by you, packed San Francisco house!" Love him.
At White Walls - Mescalito. Damon Soule had not yet hung his portion of the show when I stopped by Saturday afternoon (the opening was later that evening), but I was able to see Oliver Vernon and Mars-One's work. I very much enjoyed getting lost in Vernon's gorgeously complex paintings. They reminded me of a cross between Lari Pittman and old Yes album covers, with some Tenderloin sensibility thrown in for flavor. Mars-One's installation was also unsurprisingly solid, with his alien critters lurking quietly in one corner of the gallery.
Saturday night, The Independent:
Aberdeen City
Love Aberdeen City's slick indie rock. Didn't so much love the crowd that had turned out for headliners Electric Six. Frat boys galore, including some winners standing right behind me who started chanting "Chow-dah! Chow-dah!" when the band identified themselves as being from Boston. I was happy to leave after Aberdeen City were done bringing the rock and go shake my groove thing at Bootie instead.
What difference can one degree make?
Click here to view The Weather Channel's new series, "One Degree," about the causes of climate change and the effect even a one-degree increase in the earth's temperature could make.
The palace gardens and harem at Topkapi Sarayi, home to the Ottoman Sultans, Turkey, 18c.
Friday night, Make-Out Room:
The Asteroid No. 4
LSD and the Search for God
I got home from work Friday night and felt like someone had flipped my switch to "OFF" so I skipped this show but got a quick recap from Dave. He said The Asteroid No. 4 were good but didn't necessarily blow him away, but that LSD and the Search for God were really really great. They're local and play out all the time so really I have no excuse for not having seen them yet.
I continued to feel extremely low-energy for the rest of the weekend, especially after being awoken by strange sounds outside my house late Friday night and then getting up a couple hours later to DJ. And then feeling general worry about Noodge. And then it's just getting to be that time of year. Here's all the other rad stuff I had on my schedule, that I totally flaked out on. Sadness:
- Billy Bragg, Iris DeMent, AJ Roach, and squillions of others at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass 6
- Jazz from the Dr. Loco Band in the Sculpture Garden at the de Young
- The 2006 SF Open Studios exhibition at SomArts
Saturday night, Make-Out Room:
The Diminisher
I did run out to see this show, and holy crap it was well worth the trip over the bridge and back, even on Fleet Week weekend. First of all: organ! Second of all: hot drummer! Two of my favorite things in the whole wide world.
Konstantin Zotov: Every Collective Farm Peasant or Individual Farmer Now Has the Opportunity to Live Like a Human Being, USSR, 1934