On friday. I am going to Austin for the Austin City Limits Festival. I am really excited. It has been a while since I have gone to Austin, and there are a couple of places that I want to visit. Actually, I would like to just lounge around and go to I Love Video, Half Price Books, and the arcade. The festival will take up most of the day, but I will find some time to do other things. Although I am excited, I am also extremely nervous. Not sure why although the first thought is parking. I guess I am afraid of there being no parking in downtown and I won't be able to make the show for some reason. I have measured the distance from where I am almost certain there will be parking to Zilker Park and its about 3.5 miles. I can walk that for sure [I think I can]. But there is so much talk about parking close that I start to think it is to far. Why something so small is concerning me, I'm not sure. I guess it's my persona to always be prepared. this time around I don't know what to expect. I am nervous. I'll manage once i am there. I think i need to relax, meaning, I need to stop thinking or attempting to have a rigid schedule.
Wasn't it before that i would say "what happens, happens"? Maybe so much time in the office has made me different. don't know for sure. this is going to be interesting. I hope to write some poems. like i said, i don't know what to expect, and it's been a while since that has happened. I have for a while played it safe going to san antonio, austin, houston, new orleans, places that i know visiting the same spots. it's time i took a chance, looked for a new experience.
I am working 1/2 a day tomorrow. No reason to work the full day. Much more to do at home. goodnight.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Alton Bus Crash
20 years ago I was 10. I was also in what should be 5th grade. I haven't talked much about today, 20 years ago, because I didn't believe it affected me much. But now i'm thinking twice because of sadness i feel around this time or when i think of the Alton Bus Crash. I usually manage to avoid the subject but i remember being in alton elementary and hearing about a bus crash. I remember crying, as awkward that may be because I didn't know what happened to my sisters. My sisters were safe, but the next couple of days I could feel the anger coming from Alton, and my dad, anger at children's lives taken away and no one to really blame. My brother, already in Houston at that time, calling to check what had happened. My sisters lost friends. I think even my friend lost a brother. I have constantly separated myself from death, but this is the closest I have come to being affected by it. Every year the memories are brought up. When the city started creating a park in the same area i had mixed feelings. Was this sacrilege to create a place of fun where so many died? My brother and nephews played paintball at the park a few weeks ago and I didn't even wonder about how he felt being there. To many the accident is a memorial on 5 mile and bryan, but when i live so close, the accident exist every day.
I avoid the newspaper articles and tv reports because it feels like exploitation. The media creates an image of Alton as a dump, but reveal their sensitivity by showing photos of martyr children and interviewing survivors. I can't take their hypocrisy and bad journalism. Maybe I am offended because they have stolen a private moment, as much as attention as it has received.
I called in sick to work today because i just didn't feel like being there. On sunday i was reading the first part of an Alton Bus story and I just felt sad. Every year for the past 20, and what have I done? It feels like nothing, or better yet, I ignore what happened.
It's a lot of emotions today, as it has been in the past, except today I'm taking the time to think about it more. It has been selfish of me, not really considering what others have thought of today. My sisters went on the next bus route, rather than the earlier one, which fell into the caliche pit. They lost a friend, but I haven't asked what they think years later. Sometimes I think we want to forget and leave that memory behind. Too many lives and what ifs. I don't know why I decided to actually think about it more, and how next year will go. But for some reason for all those persons who lived through today, I just want them to know that I haven't forgotten.
I avoid the newspaper articles and tv reports because it feels like exploitation. The media creates an image of Alton as a dump, but reveal their sensitivity by showing photos of martyr children and interviewing survivors. I can't take their hypocrisy and bad journalism. Maybe I am offended because they have stolen a private moment, as much as attention as it has received.
I called in sick to work today because i just didn't feel like being there. On sunday i was reading the first part of an Alton Bus story and I just felt sad. Every year for the past 20, and what have I done? It feels like nothing, or better yet, I ignore what happened.
It's a lot of emotions today, as it has been in the past, except today I'm taking the time to think about it more. It has been selfish of me, not really considering what others have thought of today. My sisters went on the next bus route, rather than the earlier one, which fell into the caliche pit. They lost a friend, but I haven't asked what they think years later. Sometimes I think we want to forget and leave that memory behind. Too many lives and what ifs. I don't know why I decided to actually think about it more, and how next year will go. But for some reason for all those persons who lived through today, I just want them to know that I haven't forgotten.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Creativity
I know the following isn't for everyone, but I wanted some outside creativity besides what i usually see around here. Sometimes I just need help with a title and I can do the rest myself. The poem is a start.
Summary: Found a photo online while doing "pocho" research.Title derived from picture title.
Site address: http://www.flickr.com/photos/89124696@N00/
post colonial malinches
say goodbye [y chinga tu madre]
to fathers and their fajasos.
se van, holding hatred
to their blood,
fall into traps and fall
into psychological partners.
they dig themselves
feet first into caliche,
modern hearts adorning
their pale awkwardness.
Summary: Found a photo online while doing "pocho" research.Title derived from picture title.
Site address: http://www.flickr.com/photos/89124696@N00/
post colonial malinches
say goodbye [y chinga tu madre]
to fathers and their fajasos.
se van, holding hatred
to their blood,
fall into traps and fall
into psychological partners.
they dig themselves
feet first into caliche,
modern hearts adorning
their pale awkwardness.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Reading!
Should mention this. Stop by if you are in town. I still haven't figured out if i'm the blood, piss, or asphalt, but i would consider myself asphalt, siempre buscando un camino nuevo.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sick
Don't know from what, but it happened sometime while going in and out of the air conditioning at UTSA. I helped Noe move some things into his dorm, and wished him luck [and crossed my fingers].
But this post is about listening to the Wild 104 [the valleys ultimate Hip Hop and R&B station]where they had a guest interpreting dreams. Talk about coincidence, they chose to interpret a dream where a man is helping someone escape from a tiger/lion but as a result are also chased by a feline [but never caught]. I had this same dream some time ago, and posted it on here, not sure of date. Anyways, the dream was interpreted as feline=female, and the chasing is interpreted as anxiety caused possibly by criticism from the female.So, the male tries to escape the females criticism....ah, so funny.
It got me thinking about lines for a poem.
Dial-a-
curandera
on the radio
for remedies
on your spouse
some powder
on his pillow
for eternal,
unbreakable
love, a humming
bird wrapped
in red string.
dial on
the radio
because her
blue house
chips
are now ashes
smothered
But this post is about listening to the Wild 104 [the valleys ultimate Hip Hop and R&B station]where they had a guest interpreting dreams. Talk about coincidence, they chose to interpret a dream where a man is helping someone escape from a tiger/lion but as a result are also chased by a feline [but never caught]. I had this same dream some time ago, and posted it on here, not sure of date. Anyways, the dream was interpreted as feline=female, and the chasing is interpreted as anxiety caused possibly by criticism from the female.So, the male tries to escape the females criticism....ah, so funny.
It got me thinking about lines for a poem.
Dial-a-
curandera
on the radio
for remedies
on your spouse
some powder
on his pillow
for eternal,
unbreakable
love, a humming
bird wrapped
in red string.
dial on
the radio
because her
blue house
chips
are now ashes
smothered
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Cloudy Skies
In my office. It's just me, i figure. At least it's encouraging the writing a bit more. I thought more about -ismos and I created a prototype font. Nothing fancy, just checking out which look appropriate. I think i can give it a shot. Even if i fail, it will be worth it. So the first step is to create a small mission statement and explanation of what -ismos represents. Although, I don't expect to represent simply one idea, perhaps it will be made up of numerous beliefs from the area. After that I can start creating some fliers and passing them around town and also the outskirts. I'll try the viral concept also: a small half-sheet should be fine. I can do this during work, no chance of rain today.
Oh, I have to write a poem/memoir for an upcoming contest: "An account of the personal experiences of an author."
Some people say they can remember
age 4 and their first birthday party.
I think my first memories are teen
years, the rest is just some fuzzy
picture my mother keeps. Me one
year old, an early birthday cake,
and then i began my teen years.
I remember one time going to the zoo,
my sister running away from home,
walking the canals, shooting at
beer bottles. the police:
domestic disturbance, snakes
on a twig in a dried lake,
a pregnancy scare, maybe twice.
It wasn't all bad, but that's what
I remember the most.
[sounds like a start...didn't want it to be all gloomy, so put in some good memories. I need to make them stand out more]
Oh, I have to write a poem/memoir for an upcoming contest: "An account of the personal experiences of an author."
Some people say they can remember
age 4 and their first birthday party.
I think my first memories are teen
years, the rest is just some fuzzy
picture my mother keeps. Me one
year old, an early birthday cake,
and then i began my teen years.
I remember one time going to the zoo,
my sister running away from home,
walking the canals, shooting at
beer bottles. the police:
domestic disturbance, snakes
on a twig in a dried lake,
a pregnancy scare, maybe twice.
It wasn't all bad, but that's what
I remember the most.
[sounds like a start...didn't want it to be all gloomy, so put in some good memories. I need to make them stand out more]
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Frustration
With everything again. I'm starting to think it's not the people around me. lol Sometimes I expect too much, then when I get more than I expect, I'm left unhappy because it didn't come soon enough. Hopefully this comes all from being unable to write more when I actually want to. Part of that might be changing jobs. Even though advising college students is fun, meaning dealing with students that overachieve, are lazy, don't care, and have daydreams as goals, I want more time to write. Actually, I want more time to publish others. The MFA will do me some good in getting at least a bit of credibility, but if I can help others by creating a small magazine/journal, I will be happier. That's my daydream. I have been thinking about something similar to one I was part of during my Juvenile detention Volunteering days. Except this one is geared to kids BEFORE they get there. lol. Same concept though...don't glorify violence, gangs, drugs, etc. Probably shouldn't be just aimed at youngsters though. But i'm barely in my daydreaming stage. Want to suggest a title? Some possibilities: Mexcla (I just found a Mezcla magazine from UNC,and Unofficial. So those are my two choices so far. I'm working on it, but I'm sure i don't want a name like Mi Barrio, or Colonia-ismos...although I kinda like the sound of the "-ismos". Did some online research [everything is online, right? lol] and found one entry for Ismo magazine, which "Last ISMO update was 15 Aug 1999". Sounds good to me. I like -ismos. According to Wikcionario, this is one meaning of -ismo
Sufijo formativo de sustantivos abstractos que denota algún tipo de doctrina, tendencia, teoría o sistema
Ejemplos: budismo, cubismo, cantonalismo, comunismo, socialismo, capitalismo
I'm liking this. Thanks for going through this thought process with me.
Different Subject:
Just fell onto this article. Here's a snip.
"Timberlake and Rhys surveyed more than 2,100 Ohioans about their attitudes toward four groups: Europeans, Asians, Middle Easterners and Latinos, specifically asking them about each group's intelligence, income levels, self-sufficiency, ability to assimilate, and proclivity toward violence. The results were often surprising - and often not. (Read about a new Asian-American stereotype in TIME'S 1987 cover story.)
Uniformly, Asians finished first in the wealth, intelligence and self-sufficiency categories, followed by Europeans and Middle Easterners, with Latinos finishing last. Asians fell a notch, to second, in willingness to assimilate, with Europeans taking the top spot. When it came to violence, the order was reversed: Latinos on top, then Middle Easterners, then Europeans and Asians.
"In some respects, this was exactly what we expected," says Timberlake. The stereotype of wealthy, studious Asians and ready-to-fit-in Europeans has been fixed in the public mind for years now, and endures even in homogenous communities in which the need for real assimilation ended long ago."
original link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20090812/hl_time/08599191576800
Que Gachos! [will not insert a joke about being violent in order to reverse their views]
Last Note
Aren't I an oxy-
stereotype,
un childless
chicano.
it's not just
the marriage clock
counting the months
soy yo
contando las ramas
del huisache
ensombrando
el carro, sobrinos,
ese gato vagabundo
que una noche
escuche con su gata
haciendo me burla
Sufijo formativo de sustantivos abstractos que denota algún tipo de doctrina, tendencia, teoría o sistema
Ejemplos: budismo, cubismo, cantonalismo, comunismo, socialismo, capitalismo
I'm liking this. Thanks for going through this thought process with me.
Different Subject:
Just fell onto this article. Here's a snip.
"Timberlake and Rhys surveyed more than 2,100 Ohioans about their attitudes toward four groups: Europeans, Asians, Middle Easterners and Latinos, specifically asking them about each group's intelligence, income levels, self-sufficiency, ability to assimilate, and proclivity toward violence. The results were often surprising - and often not. (Read about a new Asian-American stereotype in TIME'S 1987 cover story.)
Uniformly, Asians finished first in the wealth, intelligence and self-sufficiency categories, followed by Europeans and Middle Easterners, with Latinos finishing last. Asians fell a notch, to second, in willingness to assimilate, with Europeans taking the top spot. When it came to violence, the order was reversed: Latinos on top, then Middle Easterners, then Europeans and Asians.
"In some respects, this was exactly what we expected," says Timberlake. The stereotype of wealthy, studious Asians and ready-to-fit-in Europeans has been fixed in the public mind for years now, and endures even in homogenous communities in which the need for real assimilation ended long ago."
original link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20090812/hl_time/08599191576800
Que Gachos! [will not insert a joke about being violent in order to reverse their views]
Last Note
Aren't I an oxy-
stereotype,
un childless
chicano.
it's not just
the marriage clock
counting the months
soy yo
contando las ramas
del huisache
ensombrando
el carro, sobrinos,
ese gato vagabundo
que una noche
escuche con su gata
haciendo me burla
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