Monthly Archives: January 2011

Journal Entry 1-30-11

“Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”


How To Be Alone

Here is a lovely poem “written” in mixed media:

Moment of Zen 1-28-11

Thomas Hardy Quote

“I an the family face; flesh perishes. I live on, projecting trait and trace through time to times anon, and leaping from place to place over oblivion.”

Journal Entry 1-23-11

I tasted the best apple pie I have ever eaten in my life yesterday. It’s odd that something so familiar could taste so new. A tiny Portland coffee shop called Random Order specializes in reinventing pies. Their apple pie has only two new ingredients: caramel and salt, but the effect is wondrous. No flavor or texture dominates but all work in harmony to create more than the parts–buttery, semi-sweet, savory and radiant. Can a piece of pie have an inner life? Yes, if the baker thinks of his work the way an artist does. I am not the first to have found their pies. Some national food magazine says they make the best apple pie in the country. Maybe we all continuously circle the familiar, like dogs getting ready to lie down, making sure it is what we know, yet are utterly delighted when the familiar presents something new. If someone can reinvent the apple pie, why not the world?

Journal Entry 1-22-11

There is a debate going on about Henry David Thoreau–the latest claim is that he was gay. You know, guy moves to an isolated cabin where he entertains hunky woodsmen and swims naked a lot. Hello. I don’t see it in his writings, but why not? And, more importantly, who cares?

Now that the US military is out from under two hundred years of denial on this subject, perhaps it will eventually become a non issue in the USA, like whether or not someone has big ears or is a tenor.

Meanwhile, we must unearth latent gayness in all our heroic figures, from Lincoln to Thoreau to Custer. Come to think if it, can you think of a gayer general than Custer? All that fringed buckskin, soft gloves and hats with feathers. Now there was a guy who knew how to dress for a battle. Hi ho, Silver! Now, Major Reno, where do you think Sitting Bull gets that perfect shade of vermilion war paint?

Journal entry – 1/20/11

The morning paper has a story of a new show on cable called Portlandia that makes fun of my home town of Portland, Oregon. Apparently some are upset at the portrayal of a city full of terminal slackers who are tolerant to the point of obliviousness, who celebrate oddness for it’s own sake, who work three hours a week at food carts and play in bands with names like the Restless Futons.

On the same front page is a perfectly serious article about how the city is now going to allow “guide horses” on mass transit. (You can’t make this stuff up.)

If anyone wonders where the spawn of Annie Hall and Gilligan went to raise more nut burgers, look no further.