i got the back to school blues.

must go to the apasd office and re-organize all the paperwork for the war on 54 concert. must prepare a mini-lecture and powerpoint presentation to show at a retreat. must sort out work hours for my jobs. must upload a lot of pictures, set up a message board, and reconfigure the poetry 4 the people website.

sigh. and school hasn't even started yet!

note to self: fake own death.





but then, there's a wonderful side to the back to school blues: getting to see s again.

intriguing cd review, courtesy of our friends over at aquariusrecords.org

TIGER LILLIES AND KRONOS QUARTET "The Gorey End" (EMI) cd 16.98
Yes, the "Gorey" in the title refers to the
late beloved genius Mr. Edward Gorey whose
artwork both graces and inspires this release.
And yes, this album has been nominated for a
Grammy. According to the liner notes, Edward
Gorey took such a liking to one of the Tiger
Lillies' songs that he was spurred to send them a
bunch of his unpublished stories. In turn, they
spun a number of them into song for this album,
and hooked up with the Kronos Quartet to make for
quite an impressive and suitably tweaked cast of
players. The results are thirteen songs
characteristically (for all involved) very high
on twisted theatrics and eccentricities. Vocalist
Martyn Jaques possesses a highly affected,
oft-operatic voice which he unleashes with a
commanding flair on the audience, squawking,
cackling and howling out his adaptations of the
stories which stay quite faithfully in spirit and
tone to that of Gorey (lyrics are included in the
booklet). All the while a piano is prodded and
tickled, an accordion huffs and wheezes, the
Kronos strings weigh heavily on the heartstrings,
and a toybox is plundered for more sonic
embellishments. Together they weave a delirious
cabaret atmosphere that's at once unsettling,
macabre, and surreal.

aquarius records is a neat cd store in the mission area on valencia street. right around the taquiera cancun. a nice lil stop for all us music nerds.

birds fly out of my father's mouth. i'm not used to this, i'm used to a swarm of shrapnel leaping out of his throat. his voice is so quiet so light his words must be like sparrows... so small, with a frail body of but feathers and bones, weighed down by lice. those birds cling to me, scrape my skin, claw at my eyeballs. i want to cry but i can't, i'm not used crying in front of my father.

i cradled in my arms my father like a broken bird. he's singing a song that i can only hear with more than ears. and me whispering, please fly please fly.

i held my father in my arms, and he was crying, crying for the father he lost

best movie of the year: kill bill vol I
best director of the year: danny boyle, 28 days later
best actor of the year: johnny depp, pirates of the caribbean
best actress of the year: samantha morton, in america
best supporting actor: tim robbins, mystic river
best supporting actress: scartless johansson, lost in translation

favorite films:
1. kill bill vol 1 2. in america 3. lost in translation 4. finding nemo 5. 28 days later 6. man on a train 7. big fish 8. return of the king 9. dirty pretty things 10. pirates of the caribbean

i still need to see:
triplets of belleville, capturing the friedmans, 21 grams, american splendor, elephant, thirteen, dogville, greg pak's robot stories

least favorite movie:

last samurai: lame. totally panders to the "white man's ego" (only a white man can save the non-whites from the evil whites!) the movie preaches "respect and observance" for japanese culture but then it throws us a tom cruise hollywood ending? "tell me how he died" "no, i'll tell you how he lived." please. (on a bright note: the ninja vs. samurai was pretty fun!)

best rental:

ichi the killer: an opera of cum and decapitations. i almost chickened out and turned the tv off while watching it. i hated it right after watching it... but now i kinda love it and all its senselessness. great potential party movie. take a shot every time someone screams in pain. we'll be drunk in 15 minutes.

oh, and props to those wonderful best works of chris cunningham, spike jonze, and michel gondry.

some more bad news.

(what? more bad news? in addition to the fact that we're at war, people are dying, the war was sold with lies, millions lack basic health insurance, the entire country created a tiny 1000 jobs last month, blue and white collar jobs are exported to other countries at a rapid rate, the dollar is sinking, and civil liberties are slipping away?)

sigh.

arnold's budget plan:

Spending cuts: $6.8 billion
* $2.7 billion in health and welfare, including Medi-Cal provider cuts and capped enrollment in health care for the poor
* $2 billion reduction in Proposition 98 guarantees to K-14 public education
* $1 billion from transportation projects funded by Prop. 42's sales tax on gasoline
* $729 million from higher education to be partially offset by income from higher student fees
* $438 million from adult and youth corrections

Borrowing: $4 billion
* $3 billion from the $15-billion economic recovery bond issue that the Legislature placed on the March ballot
* $950 million from pension obligation bonds similar to ones a Sacramento Superior Court ruled unconstitutional last year

Tax shifts: $1.3 billion
* $1.3 billion diverted from local property taxes of cities, counties, schools and special districts

Fee increases: $238 million
* $22 million from state-funded child care programs
* $109 million from University of California students (increases of 10% for undergraduates, 40% for graduates and 20% for out-of-state)
* $78 million from California State University students (hikes of 10% for undergraduates, 40% for graduates and 20% for out-of-state)
* $18 million in park fees
* $11 million other, including community care licensing, air resources and board of corrections fees

$2.7 billion cut to community health clinics that serve low-income families? $2 billion cut from k-14 public education? about $200 million fee hike for child care programs and higher education?

so the poor, the sick, the elderly, the students, and the children are all paying for the budget deficit?

and arnold proposed it all with a broad smile too ("did you get a good shot of me holding the graph?" he jokingly asked the reporters after his presentation.)

i graduate from college the fall of 2004. i move back into my father's house in sherman oaks, los angeles, and i start a small but exciting internship at a big architecture firm. i spend my days making photocopies and my nights playing playstation 2. i live rent free and i put all my income into savings for my own house in the suburbs. i have nothing to worry about so i gain weight. one night i try to finally start working on my book and i realize that i had forgotten how to write. i learn that safety inhibits creativity and that the most daring things only come out of a fear of dying. i pack my bags to travel the world for a year and i learn all sorts of amzing things that i forget within 2 months of returning home. i decide to go to an architecture graduate school that no one has ever heard of. i graduate. i become an architect at 30. i'm bored so i get married. my wife and i move into our own house in san diego. we have a daughter. i forget all my worries and i become all my daughter's worries. i live my life renovating homes and designing parks. i die at 56 by a heart attack.


i graduate from college the fall of 2004 and i move into an apartment in the east bay with two college friends. we're all unemployed. we spend the day looking for jobs and the night painting, writing, and reading poetry. our apartment is an artistic mess. we complete a short film every two months. one of my roommates finishes his play and spends his time to directing it in san francisco. we get invovled in the asian american artistic movement in the bay area. i find a job as a high school teacher. i also volunteer at a city planner's office. i go to film school in new york. i use the resources to make a feature film and i shop it around film festivals. it doesn't work out. i decide to risk it all to make another film. i break even when a distributor buys the rights to release the film. i make more movies but the love becomes a job and i lose the passion for it. i live in a vineyard in the south of france. i marry once but she leaves me. we have no children. when i retire i spend my days swimming in the mediterranean sea, hiding my tears below sea level. i drown at the age of 72.


i graduate from college the fall of 2004. i marry early and we settle in san francisco, where we struggle financially together. my internship at an architecture firm doesn't pay enough so i take a night shift as a security guard at the mall. i have no time for writing. i have no time on my own. i hate my job. she gets pregnant. i leave her one night and i move somewhere far away. she has a daughter named emily who never meets her daddy. i move to hong kong and i feel more lost than ever. i teach english at a chinese school. i visit all the places of my childhood. i write to my ex-wife often, begging forgiveness, but she won't see me. i return to america but i can't stand to write anymore. it hurts too much to pick up a pen. i decide that i want to be a doctor. i work the night shift as a volunteer at the local hospital. i go to med school at the age of thirty three. i become a doctor at thirty eight. i open a practice in chicago. i adopt a daughter. i raise her to be a poet and an activist because i didn't dare be one. i am dreaming of emily when i die in my sleep at the age of 64.

vegas gives excessive jolts to our senses, but still stirs little for the imagination. not a place for romantics: kept on betting on 14 red (happy valentine's day, everyday's the 14th) and kept on losing. partied like rock stars though. god damn beautiful time with the ricers. how many pounds of prime rib did we consume?

on the drive home, i held the moon in both my rear view mirrors (that makes two moons crouching at my feet) and caught clouds dancing on mountain tops, celebrating the sun before me. i was stuck somewhere between night and day.

hey jacob.

new year's resolutions
- read more
- howl at the full moon more
- make fun of luca less

it's these odd moments, these quiet ones, that really stay with me. these moments where nothing seems to move because there's there's too much uncertainty left in the air. my shadow dances in the corner and asks me:

"what did you fight for, and was it worth your tears?"

and i answer, "was it?"

... when i really wish i could bravely reply:

"yes, and for something worthwhile too. something with a little bit more permanence than the tenderness of my own skin."

over a year ago, i call jimmy because i almost felt like crying. i'm crouched on my apartment rooftop, it's nightfall and it barely rains (what a cliche) and all i can mutter out is: "i don't know what to do." and all that he says in reply is: "just do it." (and then he repeats it once more, "just do it," just to make sure i did.)

months later, hot milk and honey. she's nervous. i walk her home and we're delirious. a fire alarm goes off somewhere. the days pass. i return home. in the elevator i feel like crying and i'm not sure why. i'm sorry and i'm thankful and i'm broken and i'm healed and i'm touched and i'm lost and i'm found and i'm unbelievably lucky.

and it was all dream to me in january. i'm a lost soul. an takes care of me, so i let her sleep in my mother's bed. i paint to ease myself. portraits of fictional family members from the movie "the royal tenenbaums." the taste of date-banana shakes keep me warm for the rest of the winter.

luca, jimmy and i sip ice cream by the bus stop, under a low city light at midnight. i become good friends with andinh by trying to throw him off a wall. brian and i draw pictures on desks during cog sci lecture (and gain street cred amongst the cognitive science populace.) i gain great respect for jason when he all of sudden jumps into my room, madly yelling "bodies! we'll have bodies floating in the sky!" jerry plays kind psychiatrist from his swivel chair. kathy bach grounds me with her dreams. jean says one of the nicest things, a comment about a comet. ronnie is apparently one of my top ten guys of berkeley. jamie likes people food. jade beats me with my shoe. denise dances the here we go.

the smokey and miho concert bumrushes me to sing samba in the shower. sigur ros opens my eyes wider than the whole sky.

on valentine's day i run into her by VLSB, and all i could muster out was a shy "hi." (things don't change much between the ages of 9 and 21.)

"love in the time of diarrhea." my mom and my brother later watch me perform and i feel like i can leave the stage forever without any regrets.

scott, kenny, and i fail to get our "yellow pages project" off the grouds. so idealistic we were, thinking art could change the world. well, we still do.

"regret." wake up at dawn to watch evelyn run, force ourselves to (unsuccessfully) cry, smoke cigarettes, and throw a lot of paper into the air. oh, and toss fake bodies from a building and escape angry soccer players. swallow plenty of pho. steal stuff from stanford. celebrate by jumping up and down.

the war on 54 concert. i find a group of people i trust wholeheartedly and i am blessed to work by their side.

times of good friendships, of thai temple, of crab on the carpet, of writing poetry at 2 am, of singing weezer in the car, of futurama with the futon, of drawing comics of our lives. times of creativity leaping out of throats, of the loudmouth asians, of reading poetry with vietnamese artists (and making someone cry in the corner), of painting hats and shoes, of watercoloring the night into day, of all-nighters desperately doing what we love, despearely begging dawn to hold on for just another minute.

chris chen says that we're both dreamers. i used to think that i was living my dream, doing what i loved and being incredibly happy for it. i should know that rest doesn't come so easy. we are dreamers, and our pursuit always begins and never ends.

maybe these things are meant to be remembered, but to remain as is. still, it's hard not to look back and wonder. i suspect that as we grow older, we will spend more time looking back and less time looking forward.

it's almost dawn and my shadow has already gone to bed. i open my window and i let Life in with the shy sunlight. Life says hello with the sound of a sparrow. i give Life a kiss on the lips, and Life pulls away, as if i did something wrong. she wants to know what i see in her. i can't answer. i'm not sure if it's whether i don't know where to begin or i just don't know.