abel_mb

April 27, 2011
Currently typing this with a guitar strapped on. Practicing in my office nook at my desk. But now it feels like time to stop. Might as well stay put and write.
I first practiced Watching Fish, which is a song that I’ve written over the past month.
At the beginning of the Tuning the Air season, BR had given us an instruction to learn a piece by ear. I took this on first learning a part to a short chifftitelli piece. Then, I learned part of another Arabic piece. Then, I tried out some Mark Knopfler (I Dug Up A Diamond). I followed that with trying to figure out Van Morrison’s Wild Nights. Unfortunately, I haven’t kept up practice on these, so they’ve gotten a bit lost.
I figured I might try to write something after all this effort. But, where to begin?
I have a collection of Sylvia Plath poems. Once of the poems had caught my eye. I had a vision about what it was about, but then I doubted my insights. I went online and learned that the poem was unfortunately about a subject that I didn’t want to write a song about. Not surprisingly. But, I had wormed my way into this poet’s life and I dug deeper hoping for something sweet, hopeful. I had heard that Plath’s son had committed suicide in recent years. I found a page that was a memorial to him and it focused on his love of his work and wildlife. There was a phrase on this page that I especially liked – “watching fish” – Plath’s son, Nicholas Hughes – was a soul who loved being with and studying nature. He would stay out late and literally watch fish, one student wrote. I was moved. It reminded me of the good times (with good people) of being stuck in graduate school for a very, very, very, very long time.
I like my song. It’s mine, that’s why. It feels like me. It’s an odd piece with minor seconds, recurring chords that play an unexpected rhythm that was partly born from my inability to understand how to use Powertab to make things sound how I wanted them to be. And the piece has a repeated string of 16th notes that I call the “fish tail” line.
Today was a cold day and I underdressed. I met up with friends, one of whom was someone to plan an event with. I had a sandwich for lunch that I wish I had liked better.
I was productive in various ways, but still I feel like I can quite get to some things. Rats!
I need a gizmo that let’s me know when I’m doing something that isn’t moving me forward toward my aims.

Checking in. I have been here, but not “here.”

Today, spending time with Taylor and tending to my locket venture. Just posted an abel lockets page on FB (www.abellockets.com). It will be nice to have customers . . . my total number thus far is less than the fingers on one hand and amount spent is a much greater number.

Spent the week with my parents. We saw many beautiful Washington places: the Bellevue Botanical Garden, Bellevue itself, the Tulip Festival in the Skagit/Mt. Vernon area, the San Juan islands from a whale watching boat and ferries, and the city of Seattle from the Skyline City restaurant at the top of the Space Needle.
Before that the year kicked off with a trip to Atlanta to spend with my brother and his family and my parents. It crazily snowed.

Then, Taylor and I went to Kaua’i. A place that was hard to leave. A highlight was a helicopter tour – I had fleeting moments of wanting to be a helicopter pilot. A low point was getting seasick on the snorkeling tour catamaran.

This blogging effort marks and effort to return to writing because I really think this might be what I do best, this is not, of course, to say that I think I’m the best writer. Just that my thoughts are best expressed, and I feel more comfortable in their expression in this medium. I can’t quite explain it, but in my experience something gets lost in conversations for me – I like the possibility of brain to brain communication that writing provides.

Nice day with a bit of a less than perfect beginning. I had planned to go to the sitting at CGs but overslept. I feel bad about this, but noted that there is always a bit of a competition between what I want to do and what I can do physically, emotionally, or whatever. Sometimes, the body wins. I guess that is okay and good. Still, I’d rather be consistent and stick to my plans. But, when the alarm sounds and it’s dark outside and I’m half asleep, I become very inventive. All sorts of ideas and reasons come to me in this state to help justify why staying put in bed is a great idea.

So, I overslept. And then, with a later beginning to the day, I rushed and got ready and did a couple of important tasks. And I remembered to point out to Taylor that we needed to take our will paperwork with us. Then, I forgot about that. We were on our way and it was really nice out. Taylor put on some Dead Can Dance tunes. Gees, you have to love the way Lisa Gerard sings. I was really enjoying that and the bright, sunny weather and generally being really quiet in the car. Then, more than halfway to T’s work, I gasped and wondered outloud if we had forgotten those papers. But, T had put them in a bag. Relief. But where had that thought come from? It seemed to have entered my brain without any prior thoughts that were related. Odd.

At T’s work, he found me a desk and a chair in front of windows. I overlooked the Bellevue city buildings and some nice and colorful landscaping. The tree leaves are yellow and red. Everything seemed bright and colorful and tidy and partly that’s because this is a pretty posh town.

I worked away and had access to probably the most amazing storehouse of goodies and drinks and such I have ever imagined. One could live here for weeks with all the supplies, which include even packs of toothbrushes in the bathrooms. Having access to these free goodies excites me, but I also find that I keep myself in check since I’m not an employee. But, really, there’s a side of me that just wants to skip around and get one of everything.

I once helped my friend Eddie B. on a gig where he had to give out free samples of milk. He and I hung out at an outdoor festival and then again in a convention hall. We placed milks on trays and “garnished” with ice and gave out the samples and had to say “Free Samples of Smply Smart Milk.” Everyone was happy to get a free sample, but in some cases, a person would come up and put a bunch of the samples in a purse or bag. It was astonishing. And then there were the people who would shake their heads no.

Mid-way into the day, T and I went and got fish tacos. More work. Then, T and I rounded up some witnesses and the company notary and got our wills and living wills signed, etc. Cool! That’s done! Then, around 3:30 PM, kids of the employees in pretty cute and imaginative costumes started paraded around trick or treating in the various offices. The four guys in T’s office space (which is really spacious) barely noticed as these kids trouped in and out picking out “just one” pre-packaged marshmallow eyeball from their office’s trick or treat bucket.

T and I poked around when the festivities got going, but it was mostly kid-centered. So, we now have movie tickets as a way to spend the evening.

Tomorrow much guitar as usual and then a Halloween party. I’m Russian and Taylors a Dragon. Our costumes amount to goofy hats and that’s about it. My faux fur Russian Hat that I found online is growing on me. It’s comfortable and covers my head and ears without blocking my eyesight. It's cozy! Taylor’s carrying around candy fireballs as part of his costume.

Off to the movie now.

This week has hit my body hard. I went to a yoga workshop on Sunday and my thighs and right neck area still ache from that. It was a strength exercise-yoga two-hour deal. And the weather has turned colder. Yesterday, I could not get my hands warm. And I believe the flu or some kind of bug has waged an attack on me. Although I seem to be fighting it off, it’s all making me less energetic. I feel like I just want to curl up next to a fireplace and sleep and read. Hibernation also sounds good.
Today, was sunny, however. I went to the belly dance class I had cancelled last night. A private lesson with Sz. She is preparing me for the next Belly Dance Off contest. I think I’m getting better at interpreting and hearing the songs. If I’m not, it is at least fun to be able to talk shop with her as we work through a song and understand the rhythm changes and what she thinks the live band might do or not. From there I hiked to a new place, got a little lost, called Taylor for help. Finally made it to where I was supposed to go. Then, caught the bus home. Sadly, I left a glove behind. I wonder if contacting the metro’s lost and found will be successful. I’ll try that tomorrow. Work, reading, eating, a phone call. Later in the day, I spent good time with Sgt. Bones. We have made it to the end of a yearlong commitment. What next?

Tired today. Up for the sitting. Checked on my garden on the roof and admired it and the natural light up there. Made oatmeal for breakfast with cut up pieces of dried apricots. Read the paper. Taylor took me to the local shipping place that I like and I manged to unload a rug that we decided we need to ship back to Macy’s – it just didn’t seem like it belonged in our place. Work and email exchanging. Completed things and found myself wondering what to do with my time. Listened to belly dancing music and contemplated my next performance at an Ethiopian restaurant. Found myself watching a youtube video of an Ethiopian woman singing an upbeat tune while four young people met up and danced. Their dancing was new to me – quick, small movements of the shoulders by the guys. Not much to it but also impossible to easily replicate. Then, I explored voodoo situation notes by IB and, as he recommended, I listened to Bitches Brew – 20 plus minutes of interesting sound. I also listened to a cassette tape that someone sent me long ago. I’ve wanted to just pitch it many times, but today, I finally gave in and listened. It was all about Emily Dickinson. It’s a wonder that you can really connect to people who are long dead and gone and relate to them through their words and imagery and know that they are/were really just like you are with the same concerns and suffering. More reading in my science mags -- something about twistors and string theory and space-time. Eventually, it was time to go to a Sgt. Bones rehearsal. Good work, but my body was tired and wanted to be home and relaxed. Finally, there. Spent time on line buying some clothes that I’ve been wanting and feeling that I shouldn’t buy. I gave in. Then, I gathered together a pile of belly dance costumes to sell – if they are all sold (not likely), I may be able to justify my on-line purchase.

Yesterday and today, I tended 8 little pots of plants I’m getting ready to give away as gifts – basil and oxalis. I’m so impressed – basil cuttings in water will grow hearty little tuffs of roots. Exciting!

I woke up and made an effort to not be neurotic. The time just after I get up usually is a particularly neurotic time for me. I made it to the morning sitting at CG’s. It was just me and him . . . and Melvin, of course, who was being a playful dude. Nice sitting. Then, coffee with CG and a lesson. We worked on the top piece of a three octave arpeggio exercise. This stuff is getting my hands moving and stretching, but I’m slow at picking up the internal theory behind it all. After this we worked on a cross picking, across the strings, exercise. Cross picking across five strings should be easy, but my hands and entire body, actually, couldn’t do it well and there was a weird kind of resistance that made zero sense. It’s really funny how you can place yourself in a new position to do something and discover how completely incapable you are. But, I always take comfort. As a kid, I couldn’t blow dry my hair properly with a hair dryer without clunking myself in the head over and over, but I grew out of that. I can now do it pretty well, avoid my head – the only trouble is that I find drying my hair exceedingly boring so I forego doing that most of the time.

After the lesson, breakfast and wondering what I was to do today for work. The economy is not being nice to the education industry. I have two week-long furloughs this year and one and then another project was canceled and so I’m currently project-less until the budget people figure out how to navigate things. It’s a weird feeling to have work but have very little to do. I spent some time looking through science-related mags and that was interesting. Also, I just completed a project (apparently too quickly) that had me look at every single dept of ed web site in the country. Very interesting stuff. Some really great ed web sites are out there, some aren’t so good. And it’s a bit bizarre that every single state is different in their approach to teaching the same basic subjects.

Checked in with V by phone and found out about G and her first grade adventures.

Later in the day I went to my BD class with SD. I’ve proved for the second time, that it is possible to ride a bus in Seattle while toting a fake sword (that is well wrapped). Fun with SD who has the juice when it comes to belly dancing. She drilled me on how to step properly in the Egyptian style – it’s a very grounded heavy-kind of step. And doing it, I look too balletic. Depressing. I hope there’s hope for me. This past weekend, I performed with her troupe and did a solo with a live band at an Indian restaurant in Bothell. And it went really well. I was tipped $5 by a smiling elderly Indian man who insisted in hugging me. Then SD danced and was amazing – she did a wonderful bit with the oud solo and then the keyboard solo. The oud player is a small elderly man – he can almost fully hide behind the oud when he plays it. He has big glasses and we always clap a lot for him after he solos – he smiles in a sideways way and just lifts his hand off the instrument in a kind of wave to us as thank you.

Rode the bus to and from my belly dancing class. On the way there, a couple of young guys went on and on about some kind of fight they had gotten involved in. They apparently were students at a school for maritime workers. One guy had been offended by another dude (maybe this was the “hillbilly”) at the school and that dude told him to “meet him at Fred Meyer.” So, the offended guy did but the other guy never showed. Both of the guys talking on the bus weren’t very good at enunciating and they were loud and annoying, but by the end of the bus ride, I had grown to respect the friend (the one mainly listening) on his merits – he always carries a pen in his pocket, wanted to do his work on the bus rather than continue to listen to his friend blather on, and he had good advice for his friend – like just be concerned about studying and getting a good job (instead of worrying about wounded pride).

Back home, played guitar. Vrooom is the first rock song that I’ve ever learned and practiced playing while listening to the recording of. It’s fun to play and it has tricky parts. I’m playing the bassline.

Read some more science mag articles. Ice cream when TS got home. Now this! Will it keep up? “Only the shadow knows.”

I've been totally reluctant to write in this journal. Not sure why. Perhaps, too much is going on. Somedays, I actually can't decide where to jot my thoughts. Should I do it in a handwritten way. Sometimes I do. It also turns out my life plays out and gets recorded in email, the blogs of others, facebook posts, and group discussions. I read that these bits of us that we post would replace blogging. It's a much faster way.

Today, Taylor is home because he was sick yesterday. I've been sort of under the weather, too. But, better today.

Off to a belly dance class soon and then a rehearsal with my bandmates. We are doing an open mic tomorrow.

This past weekend was overcast and spent at a movie (Inception), then a wedding (rainy Saturday evening), and a picnic. The rain for the wedding wasn't too bad. The couple got married under a tent. Taylor and I ended up there, too. We could hear the rain on the tarp during the ceremony. At the end of that, we released white balloons up into the light gray sky. Great food. I wore a dress that Taylor picked out and bought for me.

At the picnic, hosted by his company, we both got hurt. I felt it was the shortest time of getting injured I had ever experienced. I wasn't even having fun before I was hurt. We rode a kind of mechanical bull thing. It looked so easy. But, within nanoseconds I was down and my hand hurt and was bruised from holding the rope tightly. Taylor cut his foot on the bull itself as he fell. Enough of that. The kids were better at it all with lower centers of gravity.

A nice day which I just recorded in 420 words on facebook. I pulled myself out of bed and went to a yoga class that left me drenched in sweat. I did four “wheels” (backbends). The yoga instructor had read the Declaration of Independence (I guess in prep for the class). He gave us some quotes from it at the beginning of class. For the fourth wheel (and because these things are exhausting), he said, “Do it for our forefathers” and so I did.
Then, homeward. I should run to the showers, but usually I just want to eat. Eventually, a shower came before our nice piles of pumpkin pancakes (box mix gift from Christmas). We listened to a CD my parents sent us as a souvenir from their Baltic Sea cruise – zither music from Estonia. Nice, folksy, slow polkas mostly.
We puttered around. Went shopping for things. I made cookies and assembled stuff for a trip to the park that was not to be. The weather wasn’t inviting. Too gray, cold, and drizzly.
We spread a blanket on the floor and had a picnic while we searched for decent stuff to watch on TV.
We learned that we could see the fireworks from our living room window while sitting on our couch. And then, I figured that what we were seeing on TV was 10 seconds later. It was a nice show.
Now we are mellow-y getting ourselves ready for bed. Sort of a bummer that the day didn’t turn into a social event. But, I think I needed the time to rest. A UTI hit me on Friday and drained my energy. Wah!
I’ve been lately reading Writing Down the Bones and now on to Wild Mind. Good stuff.

This past weekend I went to a birthday party for a 60 year old who was so pleased at the party and such a joy that she looked like she was just 6.

There, the time flew. I arrived at 4:30 PM really thinking that I would feel tired and blah and want to go home soon. But, after lots of talking and champagne and such, I looked up and it was 8:30 PM and TS had sent me a text wondering where I was.

TS had taken me to the party. So, I got a ride home with DVB. She had a sweet car. A Lexus. She talked all about her work and how things have to look for that. She is of service to others in her job and has turned that into a spiritual thing in order to not get drained. Listening to her and remembering all the beautiful photos she takes and listening to her talk about some inner work she is doing, I asked if she had thought of writing a journal or a diary to help her process things. She said no. I recommended a book: Writing Down the Bones by N. Goldberg. I got all excited as I spoke of the book. DVB declined my offer to run in and get it for her. And so, I'm reading it now. It's really good. But, that statement doesn't do it justice.

Reading it has led to finding some advice I needed to put more umphf into things I love. I've been leaving out the umphf because I've been wrestling with my thoughts. And most days recently, I feel like I don't like doing anything at all. It's so weird. But, reading this book, has reminded me of the fact that we all avoid things, even doing what we love. And then there's the notion of the fact that we have "little us-es" that run the show. We just need to keep them in line.

Over the weekend of June 12th-13th, TS and I traveled to RI from Seattle. A crazy trip. No sense in it at all. Except that it was to be a part of a memorial service for someone who was a dear friend. Leading up to the trip, I kept encountering people and telling them what I was doing. I was surprised at the sympathy. By the time it was time for the trip, I had had many sad moments and had reached a good place. I had come to realized that the life I was about to go celebrate was a remarkable, fun, extraordinary, and rich one. It was this that was compelling me 'cross country.

We took the red eye on June 12th. Arrived early on June 13th in Boston. Took showers at a friend's place and chatted. Then, we drove to RI. I began to really feel tired and bad and grumpy. But, then we were in Narragansett which is beautiful and then we were at the Kinney Bungalow and surrounded by green grass and horses and cows and barn stuff and the parking lot was full. We walked inside (I was stumbling on my heels).

I saw so many people I hadn't seen in a long time. Then, there was my dear friend V and her family. CN's son came up to me and I began to cry. Crap. Good think I had gotten napkins at the gas station up the road.

We found seats at the front and off to the far side. We could look at a picture of CN and out at the fields. G, V's daughter, talking out loud here and there about the horses during the service. It was all beautiful. A violin played by CN's daughter, S who is quite tall now. And there were two letters read, one by V. And the poem The Road Not Taken was recited. And some funny stories. Then there was a part "Sayings by C." Hmmmm....I thought.

They had an open mic. It was all about to end. Then, I found myself heading to the front to speak.

At the podium, I said that I had come a long way and that I was really happy to see so many people I hadn't seen in a while. I said that I was really naive when I came to URI, and that CN was a parent to us all. I explained that CN's office was on the way and in the center of things at Ranger Hall and that often people bothered him too much. I think I must have said something about asking a silly question. I don't know. Whatever I said made sense and had good pacing, because next I said to that room full of young and old, I couldn't help myself . . .I told how CN had once given me the double finger. The place burst out laughing. I remember thinking, "wow, they are really laughing" and just taking the time to enjoy that.

Then, I mentioned CN's colorful phrase that has stayed with me. I said it had three four-letter words in order . . . Holy "S" "F"!! As I said that I looked right at Sr and CN's son L, they were both smiling at me and so happy. We all three were locked in each other's smile. Their heads were cocked together. Oh joy! It was a good thing to laugh with them and have the whole room laughing with us. I said that that phrase has gotten me through some rough spots. It's a good phrase to have in your back pocket.

I used it once in Mendoza after I had stayed up all night distraught until the thought came to me to play the song EotN all by myself in front of a room full of people with RF in the wings. I marched to the front. I decided to play for my roommate LC and there was an intention to show something about playing music. That I would play in spite of my lack of ability and that I hoped others would too in spite of what ever it was that held them back.

I introduced myself as a representative of my circle from Boston. [This was told to me recently by two guys who saw my performance. In fact, when I saw them in Italy this past spring, it was what the talked to me about first . . . like the memory had stayed with them.]

I also said that the name of my band was Holy Shit Fuck. And with that I played.

My hands would not work, but I played anyway. I remember looking at my hands and thinking, "Oh, this is how it's going to go. Okay." At the end, RF said that he heard birds singing. And I had heard them too.

Then, I left the room . . . I think I marched out of it. And I only looked at LC. Then, I was alone. Only WA came up to me and spoke nicely and kindly. I made a joke of it to my other roommate who is very fastidious about music . . . she shook her head at me and left the room.

Anyway, I wish to next post what I wrote to the son, daughters, and wife of my dear from CN. This was for their request to make a "Tear Soup."

June 12, 2010
Seattle, Washington

Dear Sr and P. and S. and L.,

I was really sad when I heard that CN had passed away. I loved your note, Sr, to those of us out in the world. Thank you for the invitation to write down my memories of CN.

These have all poured out and there are many more. I hope all my details are right, but they may not be given that these stories happened to me between 1991 and some years after that until about 1998.

A note for Sr: All these memories have been very important to me and part of who I am. I didn’t filter anything so some parts may be best for P. and S. to read when they are bigger, or not. Their dad was a great, great, great person with a huge amount of character. And I happily have much more character and color in my personality having been around him!

I’m not sure when I first met CN. I have a feeling that when I did first meet him it had to be in his lab coordinator’s office on the first floor of Ranger Hall. There was such a beautiful, good, warm vibe there – it was a very real place for someone who liked what he did—who loved setting up those labs, sprouting corn kernels in humid plastic containers so that students could see root hairs, mixing concoctions, all that.

But, what probably struck me most when I first met CN was that hanging above his head were dried flowers…various ones. But, the one collection I found most beautiful was to the far back near his window and it hung over his head as he stood near that huge table-like thing that had tons of drawers.

It was your wedding bouquet, Sr.

It had long lost its colors, but still had the ribbons. I loved seeing it hanging there.

Perhaps on that day or another one, I saw a card that you had given him. It was tacked above his desk. It was a Gary Larsen card with two crazy-looking people on the cover. The woman of the couple had this wild, wavy stick-out hair and googlely eyes. That was you. And when I met you and knew CN, I just loved that card. It was perfect! Of course, the beauty of that card was that it highlighted a kind of wacky-beautiful passion you both shared for life and each other. Seeing you in person, I’ve always found you to be just so beautiful. You smile is just incredible.

And it has been that smile that has stuck with me since I saw you a few summers ago after I knew about CN’s illness. V., G., A., and I were over at your place for dinner. I gave you flowers. S and P, you were so full of energy! You were riding a rocking horse on the porch and it looked like the horse was going to ride away off the porch at any minute. And those Nigerian goats were great! Sara you looked so together as a friend, wife, and mom, and you were happy. Your energy was so good to be around.

Anyway, once I saw that wedding bouquet, it was probably impossible for me to not like CN.

And that might have been an easy thing for me to do. Because, I remember clearly that he once gave me the finger with both hands because I was coming in to bother him with a question. No one had ever done that to me before . . . not with one hand, and here were two middle fingers emphatically telling me (and the world) that just because his office was in the middle of things didn’t mean he was always available!

And CN taught me a phrase that has gotten me through some hard places. It’s this one: “Holy, Shit, Fuck.” CN said this awesome statement usually as a way to express something amazing or outrageous.

When I arrived at URI, I had never said the word “fuck” before.

So for the better, CN helped me move from being wet behind the ears to becoming an adult.

And he did that as a deeply caring person.

I and many other graduate students and students always felt under his wing. But, it was a special kind of way he took care of people. I think his care was so wonderful because he loved growth and the students he was constantly surrounded by always represented potential for that. He just seemed to love the beauty and freshness that people have when they are new to something and when they are striving to get somewhere.

I was once riding my bike down Curtis Corner Road one summer evening coming from URI. He drove past me in his pickup truck on his way home. He might have honked and waved. When I noticed him, the word, I think, he mouthed was “beautiful.” Maybe he was said something else. I don’t know really. But, my experience was that he was seeing me being new, fresh, and striving to get somewhere. Seeing him gave me confidence in myself, which was in very short supply then!

And once my car wouldn’t start. I walked back to Ranger Hall and told CN about the problem. He grabbed this tiny little hammer. And he and I marched across Upper College Road to where my car was parked. He looked a bit like one of the seven dwarves with that hammer. When we arrived at my car, he said something like “Watch this!” He had me pop open the hood. Then, he stood over the battery. And hit one of the terminals with the hammer. It went “Ding! Ding!” And then he told me to start the car. I did and it started up right away! I was amazed!

One great memory I have must have taken place the 4th of July after I had been in Rhode Island a year. CN drove me to Bristol to see their 4th of July parade. I’m not sure how this adventure came about. Sr, you might have been out of town or something like that. But, on this trip, CN and I were sitting on a curbside with all the other parade viewers. It was an overcast day. I was admiring the red, white, and blue stripe down the middle of the road. Then, all of a sudden a big cheer went up from the crowd. A man walked past us waving. I turned to CN and said, “Who’s that?”

CN turned to me and said, “A convicted felon!” And then he howled with laughter. That was how I learned about B. Cianci.

On that trip, CN stopped by his mom’s house, too. And he gave me one of her cookies from the cookie jar. And he joked about how they were always burnt! And the one I ate was!

It seems, although, I’m not entirely certain, that CN’s journey as a botanist extraordinaire took off while I was at URI. For the first or second summer I was there, the summer field botanist was a student of KK’s. This guy, JM, eventually got a job and moved on. I think that then created an opening for CN to take over the summer field botany teaching position. And from there, something amazing happened. Over the years, I think CN really became a celebrity – a celebrity botanist on campus!

CN showed and taught me my first plant – Glechoma hederacea, gill-over-the-ground, which was growing at the base of a tree behind Ranger Hall. I see this plant here in Seattle and I always say its scientific name to myself when I see it. Another plant that I can’t seem to forget is Verbascum thapsus (Indian tobacco). This was taught me to me when CN pulled the field botany van over on the side of 138 heading toward Jamestown and we all tromped up the hill to find it.

I was riding once in the field botany van with CN when he was on a mission to find Cow Wheat. This was in the Point Judith area, I think. He kept saying really loudly, “Cow Wheeeet!!” And then he saw something by the road, parked quickly, and ran to it. It was a very tall sunflower-sized plant. It was like he was plucking a giant lollipop from the tall, tall grass.

And back in the lab when the students would all begin to press, he hurried around offering encouragement and enthusiastically helping the students. The room would turn into a sea of newsprint and pressing cardboard and cardstock and plants and people! I remember once standing next to him as he looked through a collection of pressed and identified plants. He was really impressed with it. But, the collection wasn’t flashy in its presentation. The person might have used notebook paper for their labels. Things were accurate, but plain and humble. CN’s look at it and I couldn’t quite get what was grabbing him. Finally he stated with admiration that it was “utilitarian” He said that word like it was a tremendously honorable. It really struck me. His admiration was for the fact that the person who made the collection didn’t overdo things. They did them well and that was enough.

I loved encountering CN. I loved when I would call him on the phone and he would shout into it over the line at me. I loved how he dressed. He had a really neat style with his button down shirts and “shoarhts” and his cap and he always wore double wool socks with his hiking boots. He liked to eat many fruits for lunch. Grapefruit and an orange and a banana, for example. I used to study him as we spoke. His big head and squinty, blue eyes that were wise and wild and had wonderful bird’s feet. Yes, he had a big round head. He once showed me a big set of tongs that he claimed were used to pull babies out the womb! Then, he showed me a dent in the back of his head where tongs had left a mark on him! At least, I think that’s what happened! That’s what comes to mind as I replay the scene anyway!

I was once sitting next to CN in that crazy basement room where he worked so intensely on grades and making Cricket graphs on a tiny Apple IIe. I was just sitting there as one of the TAs. A young woman walked in who was in tears. She was openly sobbing. She had come over to Ranger Hall to explain to CN that she had missed a lab or a botany exam because her mother had just died. CN turned to her and in such a kind, matter of fact, honest, straight way, he said, “I feel sorry for you.”

It was such a profound thing . . . how he said that. His statement was a deep and true acknowledgement of this young woman and her pain.

Somehow all these memories have stayed with me. I think this is because each of these encounters with CN provided me with important clues for how to find my way in the world. Be loud. Be enthusiastic. Laugh. Like words and use unusual ones. Love plants. Love knowledge. Love, love, love people. Take care of yourself.

Since I learned that CN passed away I have had some very sad moments, but in thinking about him and writing this, I found that over time I have found a kind of happiness that comes from just knowing him and knowing what a wonderful person he was. I’ve kept in touch with how things were going for all of you from a far through V. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share how much CN meant to me and my life. Please consider me always available to fill in details about what I wrote or other stories about CN.

And please consider me a possible resource in any way now and always.

Much love to all of you, MB

I’m not sure why I’m not keeping up with this journal as I once did. I feel it may be partly due to having so much in my head and maybe just doing too much. At one point, a dear friend liked me more than I could like him back. He wanted more from our relationship. Perhaps, because I kept up the friendship and because I didn’t reciprocate his desires, he wrote and wrote to me. Then, life rolled along, he found the right person, now has a family, and his life is very much good. He wrote to me that once all these things happened, his compulsion to write ended. Perhaps, likewise, because I have many right things in place now, I don’t need to vent in this way.
Oh, hell, I don’t know. Maybe, it’s just that I’m lazy.
But, pondering away I have been. A way I do this is to read and read and read. I’m searching for answers, clues,…and one way I do this is to read about the lives of others. Regarding the kid question, I sat down and committed to read completely Two is Engh (and Baby Not On Brd) – these were the best of the three books I ordered. Another book, Mybe Baby, is also very good, but it was from the library. So, after digesting that one, I took it back. Two Is Engh is great, only annoying in the fact that it appears by the cover to be more of a self-help book, when in fact it’s a pretty awesome descriptive study of people who have chosen to not have kids. I feel like the cover design cheapens the quality of the author’s work. And BNOB is quite funny and entertaining. I was sobered by the stat in this one regarding how much stuff does not go into a landfill if you choose not to have a kid.
And along the way, I read My Life in FR by J. Child. I read this because she’s often mentioned as someone who didn’t have kids and who was really successful. However, she would have had kids if she could have. It seems she and her husband were simply infertile. This is a wonderful book. I loved it and I loved her, reading about her, marveling at her personality, all that. It made me go out and buy her cookbook – which is a beautiful thing. Now, I only need the desire to cook!
Then, I fell into reading the book Dune. I think this came out of a discussion about it and someone really surprised me by saying that he had trouble reading it. I picked it up and was immediately absorbed. This is a cool book and it has some neat ideas about the power of women. The notion of having to wear a stillsuit grossed me out, however. I should add, I love the format of the book – the way Princess I’s voice appears at the beginning of chapters. Many, many mind bending and opening quotations there.
And now, I’m reading another fascinating book by a woman who never had kids or got married. It’s called A Feeling for the Organism. It’s about B. McClintock and it’s brilliantly written by E. F. Keller. BM was a very unique creature (a maize geneticist). I find myself pondering her philosophies about how she desired to leave the body and forget herself. Her ability to get to such a space allowed her to see things using a pretty dinky microscope and think things that eventually led to immense scientific recognition and winning the Nobel Prize.
The next book I will read appears to be Bel Canto by A.P. This was sent to me by my ex-mother-in-law who continues to be a great source of good reads.
Today, working away and alone as usual. I like this life a lot…but it’s wild to be alone like this. I don’t realize it until I’m in a crowd and finding that I really hate being around so many people! Such was the case this past weekend at a huge music event. Yikes! So, many people, shapes, faces, what are they all thinking and doing, and the energy buzzing around seems so unfocused and unwieldy. Such an experience definitely makes me crave recognition of and by friends.
Slowly going day by day until something happens to shift. This is where my brain is. When I’m not solo working, there is much else going on. Show #181 will be played this Thursday. Dancing still finds me. I’ve returned—happily—to yoga. And I’m editing a manuscript about a woman’s childhood and marriage. Then, there’s work. Today, I’ve been thinking about ocean currents, maps, and the insides of Earth.