heathervescent

Welcome

Hello and Welcome! You've come across the personal blog of heathervescent. This site is mostly my  thoughts on the world as I experience it. If you're interested in my professional thoughts from over 12 years in the Tech Industry, then go to my corporate site, The Purple Tornado. If you're looking for the Los Angeles Geek Dinner, then you'll want to go here.
 

Borderlands Built

I was pondering upon things as I am wont to do, and I realized that the past few years that I have been doing "way out" stuff on so many levels, is because I've been building my borderlands. I've been going as far out as I could possibly imagine and then I'd go further to see what was beyond. I've been wandering in these borderlands going more and more out there. I've had moments of "wow, I really am way out here" losing touch almost with the places I used to be.

I've ventured far - and now I'm ready to come back to familiar places.

Reminder

This is just a reminder that there are good days and then there are really good days. Today was/is a really good day. Thanks Universe.

Update: Why was today such a good day? Nothing huge happened. No big life changing news. Just the regular stuff. Flexing with changing schedules, working in the morning, driving the convertible on Laurel Canyon, great client meeting, shopping at favorite store in Studio City, meeting up with a friend at Abbot's Habit and good conversation ("The truth simply is, its lies that must be spoken" - Chicken John), great exercise classes at the Y, lovely dog walk, boyfriend comes home and we decide to go out to a smancy dinner at Fogo de Chao, unlimited pao de queijo and meat, home again to awesome dog and best bed in the world.

Extraordinary in the ordinary.

Happy Birthday Bruce

A morning text message reminded me that it's Bruce Chatwin's Birthday. I'm deep in his Australian desert  adventure - which reminds me of my own dream to motorcycle across Australia (although at this point I am willing to trade it in for a Land Cruiser).

That reminds me of something I said several years ago - something about having a kid and then heading into the bush after 3 years in LA. I'm in the middle of that 3 years. I've had my metaphorical kid and it's growing up just fine. And now Australia calls again. Will this be the year for 40 days in the desert? Oh, I hope so.

By the way - Happy Birthday Bruce. You continue to inspire me.

A sense of calm

The past week has been one filled with bliss, peace and satisfaction. It's a strange feeling - as I am usually not satisfied with anything, constantly striving to improve. It's not that I've lost interest in improving myself, the world and living my dream life - I just feel no anxiety or rush associated with it. For the past week - I have been content to be.

All though my day I maintain this calm - and the late afternoon walks with the dog are downright blissful with the beautiful yards, gardens and flowering trees.

I am happy with myself, my life and what I have accomplished. I am focused on where I want to go next, what I want to accomplish and who I want to become. There is time to become that person, do those things and go where I desire. For now, I'm content and happy.

Mercy, Compassion, Forgiveness

"mercy is not receiving punishment that we deserve"

and how would we know what punishment we deserve? (compassion) and whose judgment is the correct one? Isn't it better to learn from the experience (forgiveness) and not interrupt the flow? and what stops the merciful from feeling like they got away with something?

(Here's an interesting blog post about Mercy vs Forgiveness from a Christian point of view)

All of these are ultimately about how you use your energy. Would you rather have your energy get stuck in holding onto petty bullshit (as I remember Bruce Wagner talking about) or using it to change your world? I remind myself that my battle is not here with everyone - but out there. This is merely the playground, the practice field. And that puts everything into a different perspective.

Hope and Practicality

Several years ago, I was exploring the concept of "hope" and how I felt like it may be the worst evil from Pandora's Box. Hope did nothing to change a situation and may stop someone from practical action - and never realizing their dreams.

In my morning web walkabout I found the connection. Hope is the turning point. Hope is seeing the light. Hope is the glimpse of some other possibility. However to realize/manifest the change, you must act. Hope is not an action, it is an attitude adjustment that allows a moment, a flash of energy to get yourself unstuck. Once your attitude has been adjusted, you must take practical action.

Tiger

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright 
In the forests of the night: 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies 
Burnt the fire of thine eyes? 
On what wings dare he aspire? 
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art, 
Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 
And when thy heart began to beat, 
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain? 
In what furnace was thy brain? 
What the anvil? what dread grasp 
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears, 
And water`d heaven with their tears, 
Did he smile his work to see? 
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright 
In the forests of the night: 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

~William Blake~

Jacaranda Blue

I've really enjoyed theses spring dog walks. I've found a nearby neighborhood where my eyes feast on the houses, the streets and trees. It's not typical Los Angeles, with white picket fences and non-palm-tree-lined streets. The Jacaranda's have been fabulous. It's one of my favorites times.

Grey wet sidewalk
Carpet of fresh green grass
White picket fences

Everywhere I look is a visual feast.
Psychedelic bougainvillea
Fat avocados on a bare tree
Delicate yellow flowers hidden in vines

Click-click pattering on the pavement
The wind caresses my neck
I inhale a sweet scent
Raise my eyes to the sky watching
ravens and crows, finches and jays.

Patches of purple flowers shower the way
better than any red carpet.

* photo by Autumn Leaf

More on Lightworking

Want to learn more on Lightworking? Then go here!

A million people die on this planet every week. One of those weeks will be mine. One will be yours. I realized that if I wanted to live consciously, I had to live in such a way that I was ready to die each and every day. If I don’t feel ready to die, I know I’m doing something wrong. Specifically, that wrongness is the act of pushing my dreams and desires into the future, thereby stealing power from the present and driving myself into a lower state of consciousness. If I consider that today may be my last day on earth, I can’t give in to fear. I have to summon my courage to push through that fear.

Screwdriver vs Ax

I reached for the screw driver, but it turned into an ax. I put the transformed tool back on the shelf, to pick up another tool, but in each place, there was the same ax. I dare not pick it up, lest I use it. The ax is a delicate tool with shattering results. I must not wield it lightly. The blow is not one that can be recovered from. Severed. Divisive. End. of. the. line.

In the back of my mind, the mantras of compassion, mercy, we are all one, undivided, working for the best possible world, in the direction of highest enlightenment, for the good of all. Kohlberg's levels - and the axes vibrate in their tool nooks. I visit the faces of the past. Each experience educates. I ask my future self for advice - the person who already lived though this and more. I do not want to follow-past blueprints. Relive past mistakes. Free-will is about jumping the groove. I'm ready to jump. I'm ready to do something different. 

I don't know what to do and then the answer appears. The ax flies to my hand and the deed is done. The present severed into the past.

It could have been the screwdriver. And somewhere, it is. 

Religion = Imagination

Interesting article theory on why religion evolved:

In a piece reported on in New Scientist, Maurice Bloch has proposed another basis for religion: imagination. Because we can project ourselves and imagine the "transcendental" relation in social and personal relationships, we can imagine that there are agents not visible or present, he claims. The paper is also a good historical review of theories of religion, and makes the point that "religion" is not well defined as a topic of investigation of explanation.

From Evolving Thoughts

Ruthless and Darkworking

I'd like to clarify a misunderstanding about the word ruthless. In the society we live in today this word has a negative connotation that is often misused. It's a subtle word that I continue to unveil its layered meaning in my meditations. In reviewing my writings on it here I like this description from Nick Walker

Ruthlessness, as I understand Castaneda's use of the term, isn't the same as callousness or bloodlust. It's the ability to draw a line, to stand firm, to do what has to be done no matter who it pisses off, to do the right thing even if it's not the polite thing.

Both darkworkers and lightworkers can be ruthless. It can look the same; however the motivations and reasons for using ruthlessness are very different. I have a specific recent example of this, but I'm not ready to share it yet.

The important thing to notice is the intention. What _is_ your intention? Is it for personal gain or the benefit of the whole? Yes, you can hide your true intention with icing from the other side. You can set up a situation where a lot of people benefit (masses or your cronies) - but if you're acting with your own personal gain in mind - that's your intention.

Here's a way I like to see it. If you're climbing the pyramid, you're willing to use people to get to the top - your goal. There is another alternative to climbing the pyramid - and that's raising the pyramid from the bottom. This is much harder because you must look at the pyramid as a whole - not individual bricks or levels.

Often it's hard to know your true intention and motivation. We are such tricky humans programmed by "the village" that unless we have unraveled our own programming we're running off someone else's script or worse, unaware we're even programmed.

Darkworking

I sporadically read Steve Pavlina's excellent blog, so when I was configuring my RSS reader I popped in and caught up. One of his recent posts is on the DARKWORKER and whether they are evil.

As I'm reading this and it hits me - I don't get darkworkers. I understand their motivation and why they do the things they do, but it's not my bag.

Is a darkworker evil? From the perspective of a lightworker or from non-polarized people, you could say yes. From the darkworker’s perspective, there are basically two possibilities.

First, the darkworker might say, “No, I’m not evil. I’m pursuing my own good, which is the highest good there is.” Darkworkers are Machiavellian and expedient. They recognize that running over people is often more efficient than working with them. If you have to treat a human being like a slice of bacon now and then, so be it.

The second possibility is that the darkworker identifies with evil and consciously embraces that role: “I’ve decided to be evil, and I like it.” (See For Love of Evil.) In this case the darkworker identifies with the social consensus about evil and recognizes himself as having those qualities. However, he doesn’t see this as anything bad or problematic. Evil is equated with freedom and power. The darkworker views non-evil people as weak and sometimes stupid. If the darkworker identifies with the role of the villain, it’s because the villain is the smartest character in the game.

Either way the result is the same. The darkworker’s conscience is aligned with self-service as the highest possible good. Physical reality is a playground for the darkworker’s personal pleasure, and other people are merely tools to be used.

I've been used by these darkworkers and it hurts. I do what I do for the good of mankind and those darkworkers have taken my ideas and pimped their own ass not even thanking me for showing them the way. That's why the last and in some ways most important step in getting your heart's desire is to say Thank You. I constantly think about my teachers (they probably don't know how often I think of them) and thank people who have helped me. And I go out of my way helping people and connecting them to people and ideas that help them make their dreams a reality.

My motivation in doing what I do is because I want to improve the world - and the ability for people to achieve their dreams, having their dream life and the courage to do what they are here to do - not cringe in fear to follow their passions. So what about a darkworker applying my methodologies to make their egotistical dreams come true. On a theoretically level I'm down with that, but as darkworkers execute on their self-serving plans it makes me hate this world and want to be gone from it.

It sucks my motivation and gets me second guess the value of my work. I don't want to think that I have to protect myself from these types of people, because that stifles my own creativity and derails my execution.

So what to do? And how do I protect myself and my work from these vampiric darkworkers in the future?

Change of Events // Feeling the Family

"I love planning, if only to diverge from the plan."
- Heathervescent

And that is what I did this weekend. I was originally going to SF to celebrate, see friends and check out  Maker Faire. I changed my mind at the last minute due to the $4 gas price, the excessive amount of driving for such a short trip and I just couldn't put the dog in the kennel and stayed closer to home. (I'm dog-whipped).

Instead I did a 70's bikini bicycle photo shoot for lemons and avocados before headed to San Diego County to see my 86 year old Great Aunt. I acted her chauffeur in my G35 and drove her around town running errands and going to dinner. She loved having us visit and Romeo crashed out SO CUTE with these big panda and dog stuffed animals while we watched a movie on her new DVD player.

This morning we headed up the 15 to Riverside to see my other aunt - Mary Pat. She is an amazing woman. Every time I visit her she's got something cooking - metaphorically and literally. She has 3 horses (she breeds) in her backyard which is filled with herbs and flowers and gardens.

We sat in her backyard, in the shade of a tree, a light breeze blowing, watching the horses and birds (pigeons and crows) swoop and dive. and talked about her new business, real estate and our usual analysis of family personalities. Romeo loved running around in the yard and he was fascinated (yet kept his distance) with the horses.

Later we made cupcakes (MP is an awesome cook - she used to have her own biz in Texas making "just desserts" before Just Desserts existed) and she showed me the cookbook she's working on with our family history, stories and pictures about everyone.

I'm back home now, nursing a sugarhighcrash - and I've got about 2 dozen more cupcakes here. Maybe I'll send them to work with the BF tomorrow before I go to the gym.

Ted Talk on String Theory

This is another awesome Ted Talk. Enjoy!

Bruce Returns

Several years ago I went though several months of reading most of  Bruce Chatwin's work. He is one of my favorite authors along with Italio Calvino and Jonathan Carroll. At that time I collected and read most of his books - but not all. A collection of short stories stared it's title at me most mornings. (I have a bookshelf facing my bed in the bedroom) called "What am I doing here?"

I pulled it out the other night and started reading. Immediately I was taken back to the delight of reading his prose. I came across Chatwin's writing just when I decided to make my writing both more non-fiction as well as fiction. The line between truth and reality is often fuzzy perception. I prefer to fuzz the line in the direction of fiction as far as possible while keeping the story activities in the truth. That's why for the past several years I've been walkabouting through intense activities - creating the borderlands. That and the novelty factor.

But there's something about coming back to a place you know well. A place you not only know but love well. That includes the writing of Bruce Chatwin.

My inspiration to travel has returned. I use to feed that wanderlust by traveling to the furthest, exotic, difficult, rugged locations. I've flown into tin shack airports in the south pacific in the middle of two political coups. I've traveled 5 hours over sand dunes to get to a remote beach in the north of Brazil - twice. I've boated up and down the Nile, picking through Eqyptian Temples and hiking into the pyramids, not to mention navigating haggling for belly dancing costumes in the largest bazaar in Turkey.

But those locations are no longer foreign. The most dangerous and exotic small locations in the world are right here in our backyard - it is a small town America.

This first occurred to me when I went to a small town outside of Reno to demolish some cars. Let, me take that back. This idea first occurred to me in 1996 while driving the gravel roads in fecund Iowa summer. It was a comparison of the fields, forests and plains of the midwest to the savanna of Africa. The only reason we don't think the things around us are exotic is because they are so familiar.

That is why I think the small town is a most exotic place. If you've ever lived in a small town - it's freaking hard to make a living. It's much harder to make a living in Cedar Falls, Iowa than New York City. Hard to believe, but true.

Anyway, I've meandered. My point is that in my travel revival due to Chatwin's wonderful writing I've restarting my exotic travels - to the most exotic locations on earth - small town America.

a crazy thought // the end of an era

I had an unusual sense of relaxation and contentment yesterday. Even as I drove through traffic and had difficult discussions - I felt - content. Satisfied. I looked down at the floor of my metaphorical stage and saw the bucket of balls I usually juggle. They beckoned to me to pick them up and show off - if only to myself.

But I didn't want to juggle them. I was happy with the few balls I had in the air. And I was happy with the balls in the bucket. (I haz a big buket.)

Then I thought, maybe I won't do as much and keep a relaxed and leisurely pace. Then I sat down and wrote out my dream life requirements - which were quite different from what I thought they would be. I care less about achievement than execution, but I want to leave my mark and make my contribution to our mutual self-actualization and evolution.

I do not want to ride the plow through the ocean waves.

This thought dovetails the arrival of my next intimate collaborator - a tricked out Thinkpad T61 that replaces my famous T42 (who was on the cover of the LA Times with me) that I've had for almost 5 years. I already see the emergence of one of my most secret and yet visible personas with T61. It's quite surprising it has not shown it's face before, but the time is now. I don't expect the gun wielding culture jamming explosive fire making hbomb will go away, but it's time to let her run free in the desert and get down to some serious work here in the city.

Headed a North - maybe

Hello Frisco! Well, maybe hello. I'm considering heading North this weekend to celebrate one of my old friends US Citizenship. Lars has been my Swedish bodyguard on multiple occasions and traveled with me to South America and the South Pacific. He's also a rubix cube champion. And a programmer at Google. And I've known him for ... yes, 10 years. Ten years. He's cool, smart and has a very dry sense of humor.

Then there is Maker Faire that would be fun to stop by with another of my friends, who I also have known for 10 years - barbarizinho. And not to mention my various friends performing and otherwise participating in Maker Faire. And my other friends who I have promised to visit, and this G35 in the driveway with a radar detector. Anyone need a ride?

And you can't forget

One of the best songs of all time - Under the Milky way.

Wish I knew what you were looking for.
Might have known what you would find.

And its something quite peculiar,
Something thats shimmering and white.
Leads you here despite your destination,

And this one, I imagine, inspired JK for Cosmic Girl. It's Terra Nova Cain.

The Church I like

Here are two clips of some early Church songs that I love. When commuting down the 280 to Mountain View I used to listen to the album "Of Skins and Hearts" and these were two of my favorite songs. If I had the option, I'd want to be reincarnated as a character in one of their songs. Or maybe I already have. ;)

and this one

Thrown Back in my Seat

The saab's in the shop to fix the damage that happened on the AZ trip. She was really looking beat up and I'm very happy to get her back in tip top shape. I was hoping she'd be done by the time I returned from my east coast travels, but she's got a few more days in the car spa. I could have limped by on foot here in Hollywood - but I can do that any day, so I went out and got a rental car. In the past, I have gotten the most basic rental car - nothing special, and definitely missing my quirky saab luxury. But this time, I did something different.

I'm of two extreme minds. The first is the rough and rugged beat up old pick-up that you can take anywhere, put anything in the back and generally slide around and get dirty. My second mind loves luxury. All comforts already thought of, anything you could want, there before you form the thought of desire. A perfect example is that Vegas trip, where I went from historic quirky hotel in Tucson, where I had to wait for the hot water to heat up, to uber luxury over the top pad on the Vegas strip, to rough camping in death valley without even a tent!

I decided to use this car rental opportunity to indulge a dream. I first asked for a Lotus, but there were none in stock (apparently they are crashed more than not) so I ended up with an Infinity G35 sedan. It's a bit more parental styling for my tastes (Coupe is more my style) but the horsepower impressed me.

I picked her up and ran some errands to get the feel of her. Whew, I forgot all about automatics and their automatic desire to go forward unless foot is on the brake. Then the boyf and I decided to joyride to Malibu.

We zipped along sunset in the dark carving the curves. As we were stopped at the 405 interchange I had finally gotten an open bit of pavement in front of me, so I floored it from the stop. We were both immediately thrown back in our seats as I accelerated the 40 feet. Wow. We spent the rest of the evening playing with our new found power and enjoying it immensely.

NY at night

One of my favorite things to do in NY was to walk the streets at night. It was perfect. Cool, darkly lit streets. Fewer people and I was wide awake due to my California body clock. Bars were open. Cafes were open. I could buy pizza and french pastries at 3 in the morning just down the block from my hotel. And I did.

It was at night the majesty of the city was apparent. The architecture. The buildings. And the infrastructure. We walked down the avenue to Madison Square Gardens to the 24 hour post office - with its row upon row of columns and steps. I reflected on the Greek and Roman architecture of our founding fathers. Earlier in the day I had admired the new glass buildings being constructed from the observation deck of the Empire State. I enjoyed the mixed architecture - the old and the new.

Walking the streets with the boyf I remarked that NY is like the internet before the internet. The sheer quantity of people in the limited space. And because of the quantity you're going to find people with your same interests, no matter how subcultural they might be. I imagined people came to NY to connect. To find people like themselves. To find acceptance. And to make it big.

I walked so much In my 3 days in the city. I didn't like the crowded sidewalks or the loads of people during the day. I have always loved big spaces where people gather when they are empty. And the streets of NY at night were a huge stage. I saw the trash trucks stopping in for pizza along the route. I saw the grocery store delivery trucks restocking NYC shelves. The moist streets from power washing - preparing for the day.  I looked to the sky to see if I could see stars and got distracted by the reverse-vertigo of the buildings and the twinkling of the top floor lights.

NY you showed an LA girl a good time. Thanks. I'll be back.

ROFLConing

Carmen and I are busting it up at ROFLcon in Cambridge. Tomorrow we'll be shooting some video for a high profile video blog. If you're around come by and say hi!

Art Show!

The I am a Heather art show I am involved in opened in Pittsburgh today at Future Tenant. !!! This is so cool and I'm really excited to be included in it! Here's a photo of the materials!

In <3 w/ NY por causa de Chelsea Hotel

Oh man, what a day! I awoke at 6am to LA sunshine. Cozy dog sleeping by my face in an otherwise empty bed. I heard the text messages to my phone in my office and pretended to sleep for another 45 minutes when I finally drug myself up. I could have slept in, but I had 8 million errands to run before catching my flight to JFK.

Walk Dog. Check. Shower. Check. Finish packing. Check. Post Office. Check. Bank. Check. Storage unit for banana suits. Drama. (Shout out to TC at the storage unit this morning, who made me cry with his impeccable view of the world.)Check. Drop car off for body work repair. Check. Coffee and bagel @ solar while I wait for car paperwork. Check. Back to the house. Check. Move the cars. Check. Repack in bigger suitcase. Check. Walk the dog. Check. Wash dishes. Check. Oh yeah, check email. Check. Feed dog chicken to distract him while I take luggage out to car. Check. Drive to LAX. Check. Wait patiently in long security line. Check. Watch TSA dude check my ID for fakiness and then harass him about fake IDs. Check. Flight gets delayed for 3 hours. Check. I reschedule for another flight. Check. Bop around LAX entertaining myself until flight leaves. Check. Get on flight. Check. Hang out in the back galley and chat with folks. Check. Get into JFK and wait for a llllllooooooonnnnnnnggggg time for bag to arrive. Check. Get all agro on the limo people. Check. Arrive at the Chelsea Hotel.... Yesssss!

The limo was zipping on freeways not unlike the ones I zip on and I wondered... where was NYC?! I kept seeing signs for Midtown Tunnel and I kept thinking of Mid-Wilshire. And then we crossed over. And I felt the electricity crackling all around me. I was in the land of skyscraper buildings. Bricks!!! Gorgeous architecture. And I started chilling out. I started getting excited for being in NYC. And then I arrived. About 10 years ago I took an x-boyf for lobster at the Chelsea for dinner and old kicks. We are still sporadically in touch. This time, I remembered in time to book a room. AND I LOVE IT!

Really, this is completely and utterly my vibe. Of course I've spent the last hour + talking with the guys at the front desk about mercy, guns and getting away from it all. As I walked down the 8 flights of stairs looking at the art and thinking of my pal Neil whom I'm not going to be able to meet up with cause he is out of town :( I thought, if I ever move to NYC I will be an artist. But then, aren't I already one?

Voices in the Desert

In Wrong is Right there was this Arab leader who would go into the desert "to hear voices". I thought of this as I packed some basic gear and the dog in the truck for a short trip out. It occurred to me that the reason I go to the desert is "to hear voices". Sometimes those voices are my own. Sometimes they are what is playing on the radio. Sometimes they are my friends. Sometimes they come on the wind or the movement of the flames in the fires I build.

I watched the fat moon rise over the prehistoric mountains of rocks. In my rear-view mirror the god effect reins down from the clouds. My reality is shifting as I pull off the pavement and onto the sandy desert road. The moon continues to rise and I see a tent city, flickering lights. I hear pounding music. I pull up only to find unknown faces in a familiar setting. Eventually I find the host - one of my cherished friends. We immediately dive deep into a conversation of consciousness - probably because I mentioned my week in Tucson - and he says something that stops me. "Everything is an illusion. The illusion is necessary so we can experience being individual." And I agree.

I had been thinking about suicide, death and killing on the drive out. I had been thinking about cliques and communities. Divisions, exclusivity and inclusion. My irritations. My own activities that are divisive, cliquish and exclusive.

I asked him about Mercy, since I figured he would be able to answer my mercy question, and he suggested thinking about compassion instead. Compassion I get. It's mercy, I have in my claws. It's mercy I want to understand. Elusive Mercy.

The music pounded all night long. I watched people I didn't know dance with fire and hoops and each other. I lurked in the shadows stoking the fire, throwing pallets on it, building a fire ring, pushing the wheelbarrow full of wood through the dance floor. Spider weaving the web. Playing the harp strings.

The music still pounded when I left this morning and headed into a silent desert. As I drove through the basin I saw the whole area as a lush ocean - the rocks and mountains under nutrient rich water. I saw the desert patina echo back to coral, algae and moss.

And then I was back on the 101, speeding through Hollywood, thinking about New York and Boston and the Purple Tornado travels. Remembering all the errands, emails, things to coordinate before I leave tomorrow. I'm glad I took the time to go out there and listen to the voices.

Go see this movie: Wrong is Right

I caught this movie at the New Beverly last night. It was originally released in 1982, but it is almost true to our modern political situation. Check out the description:

Based on Charles McCarry's 1979 novel The Better Angels, Wrong is Right is set in a near future in which violence has become something of a national sport and television news has fallen to tabloid depths (a significantly bigger stretch in 1982, when the film was released.) Star Sean Connery plays Patrick Hale, a globe-trotting reporter with access to a staggering array of world leaders. As the film opens, he has ventured to the Arab country of Hegreb to interview his old acquaintance, King Ibn Awad (Ron Moody). Awad has learned that the President of the United States (George Grizzard) may have issued orders for his removal; as a result, Awad) is apparently making arrangements to deliver two mini-nuclear devices -- each about the size of a small suitcase -- to a terrorist, with the intention of detonating them in Israel and the United States, unless the President resigns. In the intricate plot that unfolds, nothing is quite the way it seems, and Hale finds himself caught between political leaders, revolutionaries, CIA agents and other figures, trying to get to the bottom of it all.

Really, I highly suggest you pop over to the New Beverly tonight or pick it up on DVD. Classic lines like - Gas is up to $3.60! 80's satire has become aughts reality.

The Kindness of Strangers

Earlier today I was irritated. My web walkabout caused me to go down the path of thinking "now why didn't I do that?" when I could have easily done these same things a year or more ago. The answer to that question is "I didn't want to do those things." I must remember that just because I see the need for something doesn't mean that I have to do it. It's ok to pass up the idea for another one I am passionate about. But I fall back into stupid human mode and start questioning myself and that's a slippery slope leading to my favorite existential questions. I walked outside and the sky brightened my day for a moment and then it was the LA traffic. Late to a meeting. Circling the block in the heat, sun in my eyes. No parking. Film crews taking up the spaces. The place was packed. There were people waiting for a table - all the things I hate. My mood went back into a nosespin. I went inside looking for my partner, no sign. A friendly guy asked me how I was doing, and I could not pretend to be the cheerful effervescent heather. I believe in answering the question "how are you?" truthfully of the moment. And at that moment, I was fucking irritated at being alive. So I said as much, as detached and not directed my irritation at the nice man asking me. He asked why? and I said something like, it's one of those days... he took it in stride and I went outside to wait for a table.

I put my name in for a table. And tried to let it all go as I leaned on a signpost looking at the sky. Not thinking of anything. Nothing mattered. Looking at the black painted building with swirling yellow logo. Looking at the Hollywood Hills. Thinking of the weekend and my irritations coming  back. My phone ringed and it was a client. I was happy for the distraction. I'm really happy with my current clients. The minor drama scared away my own irritation for a moment. Then my lunch partner pulled up. Then our table was ready, and then it was into the zone of the meeting - irritation retreating again.

After lunch the nice man who asked me how I was came out with a red velvet cupcake - one of my favorites - and hoped that my day turned around. By that point, it had, and him giving me the cupcake was the icing on the cake.

It's so easy to give kindness to strangers. And sometimes, it makes all their difference.

Reaching into the Tornado

This is to remind myself of the beckoning hand. From my vantage point in the lounge - the outstretched hand and arm was all I could see of the hidden statue. Through hours of conversation I would look through the door and chuckle to myself at the hand. It reminded me of when I would reach into the tornado. I wish I had taken a photo of it - but I have the photo in my mind.

My Geekiest T-Shirt

GeekDinnerLA_24
Originally uploaded by mjlambie.

With Miro - the 2nd place winner.
Note: I did not compete, because I wanted to give other folks the chance to win. My favorite was Michelle Thatcher's "Grok" - which I kept referring to as the "I don't get it" t-shirt. I don't know if everyone go it.

dead war zone

Here's the latest from JS's Rio:

  Right into the heart of a raging guerrilla war where even the local bandidos, armed to the teeth, didn’t tread that day.
  Narcisa didn’t care. She wanted to cop. Or die trying.
She stumbled along the labyrinthine bullet-scarred alleys of the deserted, post-shootout favela, raving, yelling, “Show your face! Shoot me, kill me! Where are you, cowards!”
“Where the fuck is everybody?” She cried out desperately, an abandoned child running around like a frantic white rat in a maze.
   The only answer was her own echo in the eerily still kill-zone.
“Show you face, you shits!” She shouted again and again to the invisible Drug War snipers hidden in the shadows, holding her long white arms out like Christ the Redeemer.
  “I wan’ some crack, porra! Show you fucking faggot faces or just go an’ shoot me… I wan’ it the DRUGS, man, got it?”
  Nobody showed their face. Nobody shot her. Nobody sold her any drugs.
  Finally she got bored hearing her own lonely voice echo there in those lifeless empty alleys of the dead.
   Then she finally gave up and went away to look for drugs or death or whatever she could find somewhere else.
  The end.

The audacity. Inspiring audacity.

Meditations on Mercy // At the mercy of Mercy

I'm listening to the Sisters of Mercy researching mercy. Coming from a legal family (4 generations in Law, including my grandfather who was a high level state Judge) it's surprising that I have and yet have not understood this concept. Law is about judgment - where is the mercy in that? And yet, a judge has the possibility of great mercy. In looking back, I can see where my legal family has been merciful - and also judgmental. It was very inconsistent (I'm not talking about any personal experience here) and you never knew when you would get the ax of judgment or the aura of mercy.

I resolved this issue by taking the "high" road on myself and creating the pressure to live up to my own hardest judgment. And to any possible judgment that any other could have of me. No one could judge me harder, than I.

I took this attitude to create the strongest chain mail, with not one chink, constantly re-strengthening the armor. The armor against any possible judgment. If no mercy for myself, why would I consider being merciful to anyone? And why would I be merciful to myself? Leave me to sharpen my ax, to practice target shooting. I know that's a hard line of thinking.

This morning I was pondering all this, and it occurred that teachers must be merciful to their students that make mistakes. In fact, many who teach must be merciful.

So how does one be/do mercy/iful? Is it like being impeccable? (In that it is difficult at best to explain and different for everyone.) Then, when do you know when to be Mr Tough Guy vs A Sister of Mercy? Does mercy exist where judgment doesn't? If there is nothing to judge, what is there to mercify? Who benefits more from the mercy? The bestower of the one bestowed? And where does the mercenary (a descriptor I have used for myself multiple times) fit into all this? 

This is a tricky sublime meditation. And these are and not rhetorical questions.

Desert Diamond

I am sitting here thinking about the red strata mountains. Feeling the wind from my open window. The delight as I speed along the two lane crumbling pavement. Sand dunes off to the left. I remember the Jerky stand at the Tecopa turn off. I stopped and talked with the guy running the stand. He was a nice man and it was a pleasure to stop. I love stopping at small stands along the road. That must be the Midwesterner in me.

I'm thinking about other desert driving trips. I was surprised at how green and lush the Tucson desert was compared to my Mojave. I wondered again, what is it about the desert that appeals so much to me. Partly the wide open spaces. Have I forgotten the forests? The fields of golden grain? Why do I love so much the piles of rocks?

As I was driving through the Sedona red rocks, I looked at the crumbling plateaus. I thought about something someone told me. Something about a 16 year unveiling and I thought of the image of me as a plateau crumbling away to unveil what I am, that is hidden so far to the world.

Nothing is Hidden

Nothing is Hidden
Originally uploaded by heathervescent.

I've been thinking about this particular quote a lot recently.

Mine Mine Mine!

LomiLinda2
Originally uploaded by heathervescent.

Another adventures begins! S and I closed on the ranch today! There will be a blow out ranch-warming party probably this fall after it cools down.

Announcing GeekDinner.org

You may have noticed the lack of geek and tech coverage on the ole heathervescent blog - and that's for good reason, I'm taking back my blog as an expression of myself and segmenting my geek dinner announcements over on the brand spanking new Geek Dinner Blog!

So go check out the work in progress, subscribe to it's RSS and let us know what you think in the comments!

I may have tech coverage over here from time to time, but I plan on keeping my creative edge active over here. I also have another blog announcement coming up soon... so stay tuned!

Posing with murals

Posing with murals
Originally uploaded by heathervescent.

Chuckles pulled this gorgeous green sequined chiffon dress out of her trunk and it fit me, so I of course had to wear it to the opera house. I'm posing with some of the murals from the Amargosa opera house in Death Valley Junction.