Public Art And The Possibility Of Intelligent Life On Earth

There's a new statue in a Burien, Washington outdoor art space which is drawing a lot of public attention. The bronze statue is that of a nude woman squatting, and some parents are asking that it be moved. Besides being located in an outdoor art space, the statue is also next to a public library where a lot of kids come and go. The parents who want it moved are not happy at the thought of their children seeing it.

Now, really, folks! Are you kidding me? With all the internet porn to block and t.v. and video game sex and violence to get into a tizzy about, you're worrying about this statue??? Is this some kind of phobia created by "The Night In The Museum" movies? Are you afraid the statue is going to come to life? Then, what? Will it start acting like a metal pedophile? I say, "Hey, Parents! If you're going to spend time worrying, how about worrying about the real risks? Such as real pedophiles hanging around and not innocent public art that isn't capable of actually harming your child!"

Yes, indeed, I do have to wonder about some people. What are these parents most concerned about? That their kids will see a nude human form? Oh, no! Nudity! The unclothed human body! Oh, the horrors! The horrors!!!! (Aaaaaaaak!!!!) The children will be forever corrupted! They'll never grow up to be healthy, educated, moral adults if they see a naked bronze lady. We must put the kiddies in a small bubble full of hot air and made of hypocritical morality. Keep them there all throughout childhood, and then, as soon as they become adults, "Pop!!!". Deflate that bubble, and throw those kiddies out into the world like innocent lambs thrown to the wolves. Don't let the children learn about biology or anatomy. Certainly, don't educate them about human sexuality. It's soooooo much better to let it all be a big surprise, especially nine months later.

We must all take responsibility to protect our nation's children from public art. Art is dangerous. It might encourage those greatest of life's hazards: creativity, imagination, free expression, even (heaven forbid!) enourage free thought. Most especially, none of us want children to grow up with the ability to think for themselves! It would cause so many difficulties to those comfortable with the status quo. What are we going to do if we raise children more intelligent than ourselves? We can't let that happen. If they are more intelligent than their parents, these children will recognize how many generations of morons have lived before them. We can't have that! We can't, as a society, raise children that might actually have enough brains to solve those very real social problems that we've been struggling to fix. Just imagine it! Expose children to educational things, such as public art, and they might develop critical-thinking skills that could someday save the world. No, we certainly can't have that!

I wonder, though, if her nudity is really the main problem that these parents have regarding the statue. I wonder this because, when I see the statue, the first thing I think of is that she bears an unfortunate resemblance to a woman squatting in the woods to relieve herself. Maybe parents should be concerned that she encourages public urination. Besides the possibility that the someone might look at the statue and laugh so hard they wet their pants, I can also imagine an enraged mother saying, "It was hard enough to potty-train my little Johnny without this woman flagrantly ignoring the nearby public restrooms! Now, he thinks that, if she can water the shrubbery, then he should be able to do it too!"

This all reminds me of story about another, more famous, nude statue. When my younger brother, Jeremy, was about eight years old. We were playing a game where we were impersonating different things and trying to get the other person to guess what we were supposed to be. It was his turn to come up with a pose. He sat down and leaned over with one hand on his chin, forming the pose of the classic, Rodin statue, "The Thinker". He asked me, "Who am I supposed to be?"

I answered, "That's easy. The Thinker."

He says, "Noooooo. . . I'm that statue. You know, which one I mean, right? I'm that statue of the guy sitting on the toilet."

Further information:

Wikipedia article on "The Thinker" statue by Auguste Rodin http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thinker

Local KOMO news article which includes photos of the controversial bronze sculpture in Burien, WA http://www.komonews.com/news/local/49052321.html

Until I type again,

Kami

Eavesdropping

I confess. I'm an eavesdropper. I find nothing wrong with it, as long the eavesdropper is only listening in on already public conversations, and as long as it's not being used as means to spread nasty gossip. Under these terms, I consider it harmless, free entertainment (similar to when I'm engaged in another great past-time: "people watching" -- i.e. watching random passersby while in public places). As a small experiment, I decided to spend 24 hours eavesdropping and some of what I overheard I wrote down. Most of what I recorded has little or no surrounding context, so these bits and pieces are open to various interpretations, especially when you're an imaginative person like myself. Through eavesdropping, I doubt that I'm likely to discover the wisdom of the ages, but, then again, you never know. . .

Here are some things I overheard during my short experiment:

Two ladies riding a bus to the ferry terminal where they'll be catching a ferry to Seattle. One says, "She drives me crazy. Every time she comes in, I leave my desk."

I went to a coffee shop for a very, very large coffee, two young female employees were talking about their previous evening. One of them says, "I met my boyfriend's brother last night. He was creepy. Kept being weird and trying to impress me."

Two men on foot, passing by me on their way to work at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, WA. One man declares, "Well, I could put bacon on it, but that's just going too far for me!"

While looking out the window of a city bus, a mother exclaimed to her toddler. "Look! Look! There's peoples everywhere!"

This youtube video shows a negative, yet comical, glimpse at an eavesdropper:

Until I type again,

Kami

Politics, Religion, and Protest: Thoughts On The Iranian Protests

I've been following what has been happening with the post-election protests in Iran, and, in the process, I've had some thoughts that I'd like to share here. First of all, I'm reminded of our recent U.S. election, and the passion and energy I saw so many people put forth during this democratic process. It awed and humbled me, and it filled me with pride in my nation. I'm also reminded of some other experiences and of some things I've learned when it comes to politics, religion, and protest.

In 1999, there were dramatic protests during that World Trade Organization (W.T.O.) meetings taking place in Seattle, WA. At the time, I was working in an office building in downtown Seattle which was connected to the Washington Convention Center building where the W.T.O. meetings were being held. This gave me a ringside seat to the events. I walked through lines of protesters to get to work. I watched the crowds grow more and more unruly and then begin to violently smash and break things and get into altercations with the police. One day, while my building was under emergency lock down, I witnessed, from my office windows, protesters being tear gassed, dragged along on the street and arrested. I went to work during the martial law that followed when guards in military uniform surrounded my building. I was stopped, briefly questioned and made to show picture i.d. on a public street corner, before I could cross into the barricaded city blocks to get to my office.

These protests led to violence and vandalism, followed by oppression and limits on personal freedom. Right or wrong, these limits were deemed necessary for public safety. I can't help but compare this experience with the protests in Iran where tear gas and arrests have come hand-in-hand with beatings and bullets.

The United States Constitution guarantees us the rights of peaceable assembly and peaceable protest. American citizens also have rights protecting religious freedoms. Sometimes, in this nation also founded on many Christian principles, the exercise of these freedoms feel like a delicate juggling act. There is a constitutionally mandated principle of separating church and state. This principle was intended for greater religious tolerance and to allow citizens to practice their faith without government interference. Thus, politics and religion are perceived as separate, often opposing, entities. Yet, there is no denying that the American demarcation between the two is not always clear. Our legislative sessions open with prayer and "In God We Trust" is printed on our currency. While the separation of church and state paves an easier path for religious diversity, ironically, it also makes it more difficult for us to grasp that, in many ways, politics and religion are inseparable.

For example, let us look at the non-violent protest used to obtain political freedoms by Gandhi and the Indian Nationalist Movement. Gandhi was Hindi, but he was also influenced a great deal by the religion of his mother, Jainism, which emphasizes doing harm to no living thing. He, himself, was as much a religious leader as he was a political leader, and his philosophy of non-violence was a spiritual practice as well as a political one. He believed in using moral persuasion to sway your opponents into seeing the injustice within their own laws and actions; in using love instead of violence to achieve social change. It was inspired thinking, and, as it turns out, very adaptable.

The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. proved the flexibility of Gandhi's thinking by putting it into action in the U.S. Civil Rights Movement. Christian biblical ideas such as the Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you", as well as, "Love your neighbor as yourself" and "Love your enemy" were demonstrated to be highly compatible with Gandhi's ideology. Without religion, the world would not have the philosophy of non-violent protest that we have today.

I took a class at the National University of Singapore (when I spent a semester there in college) on society, history and politics in South Asia. It focused on India, Pakistan and Bangladesh during the 19th & 20th centuries, and the professor who taught it was from Bangladesh. There is one thing that this professor said that I not only most remember from that class, but which has also altered my perspective on the relationship between religion and politics ever since. He said that it was often difficult for people in the Western World, particularly for Americans, to relate to the thinking of people in the non-Western World. He explained that this difficulty was due to the concept of church and state as separate and mostly incompatible. He argued that most of the world not only finds nothing incompatible between religion and politics, but most of the world does not perceive that there is a difference between religion and politics. When viewed through this lens, the post-election protests in Iran are about several things: the right to peaceable assembly and protest, the right to a fair, honest electoral process, and the right of the people to make political decisions based on their individual moral/spiritual/religious framework. The protesters are calling to Allah for assistance. They are asking for divine protection and divine guidance. They are putting into question where primary access to divine wisdom lies within Iran and within Islam. Does divine wisdom primarily reside within their leadership? Or is it primarily accessible through the exercise of each individual conscience?

What is happening in Iran is demonstrating that religion has not lost its place in the modern political world. Religion is having to adapt, as most everything in our lives is adapting, to fit together with the people in our modern world. Those faiths which don't adapt, even if only to some extent, have a tendency to dwindle away. The Iranian victims of the protest violence, for instance, are being perceived as more than political heroes. They are also being seen as religious martyrs.

I've heard questions regarding what kind of democratic system could exist within the Islamic religious framework? Are democracy and Islam, a religion which most values obedience to Allah, fundamentally incompatible? I don't think so. Democracy is about freedom to shape and operate government according to the will of the its people. If the people believe that their behaviors are acts which show obedience to Allah, then democracy fits in nicely with Islam.

Political protest has never really existed in a separate sphere from religion, despite ideological attempts to disassociate the two. I think my former professor was correct. No matter what words might be used to describe religion and politics, for most of the world, (even, it may be argued, for all of the world), religion is politics, and politics is religion.

Until I type again,
Kami

"Feminist" Is Not A Dirty Word

I was watching CNN news this morning, and one topic that was under discussion is whether the word "feminist" has become obsolete. One argument made was that the term has such different meaning to each individual that there isn't much point in using it. Another point made was that the term "feminist" shouldn't continue to be used because it has so many negative connotations to so many people. It was even said that, to some, "feminist" is the "F" word.
At first, I laughed at this. What term, particularly political terminology, doesn't mean different things to different people? We all see the world in our own, unique way. If we start tossing aside all the language that has unclear meaning or words that have negative connotations to some people, would we have an words left? What are we supposed to do? Revert back to silent gestures and body language because we fear our words might be misconstrued or too politically volatile? I think not.
I, particularly, chuckled at some comments made on CNN that the term "feminist" was not inclusive of all women; that it left out women, like Sarah Palin, for example, and seemed to represent an exclusive club. Ha! Who are we kidding? The only women left out by the term "feminist" are those, like Sarah Palin, who choose to be excluded through their words and, most significantly, through their actions.
Being a feminist is a choice that we all get to make. We have the freedom to do so because of the generations of feminists who came before us. They sacrificed. They struggled. They fought. They suffered heartbreaking loss and inspiring victories. Doubting the on-going value of the term "feminist" is a denial both of this amazing history and of the continuing battle for women's rights around the world.
I am proud to call myself a feminist. My great, great grandmother was forced by her Morman polygamous community to marry an elderly man when she was only twelve! It's not surprising that she told my grandmother that one of the happiest days in her life was the day the old lecher died. That, my friends, is the kind of world women with limited options have encountered. There are still groups today, such as the Taliban, for example, they still try to limit women's freedom. Life without feminist ideology is not pretty.
To be a "feminist" is to honor, respect and empower women everywhere. Feminists have worked over many, many years to give women the kinds of rights and opportunities that many women have today. Feminists still fight to increase these protections and freedoms in the United States and across the world. If we dismiss the term "feminist" as having gone the way of the corset, then we are denying that it was the efforts of feminists that made the corset go away.

Until I type again,
Kami

Signs That You Might Be A Storybook Character

Storybooks are filled with princesses and princes, heroes and villains, and countless other magical creatures. So, even if you're in a storybook, it certainly doesn't guarantee that you'll having a happy ending. While I can not offer you conclusive proof that you are actually a work of fiction, here are some signs that you might be a storybook character.

1. You have an endless supply of ballgowns and recently cut your foot when your glass shoe shattered.

2. You never sleep soundly because every time you start to fall into a deep sleep, your boyfriend kisses you awake and nervously checks you for a pulse.

3. You live under a bridge and frequently harass passersby.

4. You have very involved conversations with woodland creatures who possess annoyingly high-pitched voices.

5. You're a vertically challenged, hardworking guy who goes by a name like "Dopey" or "Grumpy".

6. You're always obsessing before that mirror and demanding it to tell you that you're the fairest in the land.

7. You recently filed a police report after a rude blond broke into your house, ate your cereal, damaged your chair and was caught while sleeping in your bed.

8. You rent a limo, but you're disappointed that it's not pumpkin-shaped.

9. You walk around with a sword and tights, although your not an actor and have never attended a Renaissance Faire.

10. Your former house was made out of straw or sticks, but now you live with two obese brothers in a house made out of brick.

11. You have a wicked step mother.

12. You're relieved when you discover that your girlfriend is a mermaid because it finally explains why her house smells like tuna.

13. You've had a near-death experience involving dwarfs and waking up in a glass coffin.

14. Your hair is so long that you could braid it and have a prince use it as a rope.

15. You hang around swamps, kissing frogs, hoping one will turn into a prince.

16. You've once fired a fairy godmother or a genie for failing to grant all your wishes.

17. You buy more wart remover than you buy any other product.

18. You live in an edible house.

19. You're not bright enough to immediately recognize that a wolf in a night gown is not your grandma.

20. You've developed an allergy to pixie dust, due to frequent exposure.

21. You're pleased that you've found a beautiful girlfriend even though you're a very hairy and unattractive fellow.

22. You quit your day job to fight dragons.

23. You try to foist shiny, red apples onto pretty girls while you, yourself, look in desperate need of some cosmetics and a new wardrobe.

24. You attended grief counselling after someone dropped a house on your sister.

Until I type again,
Kami

Image © The Walt Disney Company and courtsey of http://disney-clipart.com/

Collin Cactus Has A Dream

***"Collin Cactus Has A Dream" is a little fiction story I wrote yesterday. The photographs included are also mine. I really do have this giant cactus, and a smaller cactus next to it (which I grew from a piece of the larger). Lately, since it's been warm outside, I 'm brushing by the cactus more frequently as I open the window behind it. In the process, I've been getting occasional prickles, particularly in my hands. After this happened again yesterday morning, a story flowed out of my brain.***

Collin Cactus only wanted one thing. He'd been wanting this one thing for a very, very long time. He didn't have dreams of starting a cactus company or winning the cactus lottery. Even the thought of being the richest cactus in the world, was not Collin's dream.

It must be said that fame was also not what Collin sought for himself. He didn't fantasize about being the first big cactus movie star. Other cacti might wish to make it big in Hollywood, to be more than just a stage prop or part of the set design, but not Collin. He'd never been interested in auditioning for a play nor had he tried out for even a bit part in a commercial. No, Collin's dreams did not extend into the field of acting at all.

What, you might ask, did Collin Cactus want so badly? Well, all Collin really, really wanted was to get a hug. Now, it might seem to you that a hug is a small thing. This may be especially true when compared to big dreams of fame and fortune. Yet, the most powerful of dreams, those rooted in our deepest and most basic of longings, often have nothing to do with career or financial success. A single, small hug might mean the world to someone. In fact, to a cactus, a hug might seem an impossible dream.

Collin had witnessed others hugging on many occasions. He'd seen people cuddling on the living room sofa nearby him. The aloe vera plant had snuggled with the jade plant. Two birds outside the window nuzzled each other as they sat in a pear tree. Even the flowers were known to frequently embrace. The daisies, in particular, could easily be braided into chains. They didn't mind hugging one another in the slightest. Everyone, or so it seemed to Collin, had opportunity to be hugged (if not often, at least once in awhile); everyone, that is, except for him.

It's understandable that Collin would feel that something was very wrong with him. He couldn't figure out what it was that made him so different from everyone around him? No one else seemed to have a problem getting hugs. What did they have that Collin did not? Why was it that no one wanted to hug him?

Collin Cactus tried to be as friendly and lovable as possible. He tried to reach out to others, hoping that if he were to initiate a hug, then maybe he'd be hugged back. Unfortunately, these attempts never turned out how he hoped. No one wanted to hug him, and sometimes it seemed that no one ever would.

There was a Cute Little Palm Tree in a pot nearby Collin. Over the years, he had tried, on several occasions, to reach out his prickly arms to her, but every time she'd evade his touch. The Cute Little Palm Tree would shake her fronds and sway as far away from Collin as she could. When this happened, Collin always felt the sharp pain of rejection, but, nevertheless, he still did not give up on someday fulfilling his deepest wish.

Lately, he'd been trying to get a hug from the Long-Haired Lady With The Water. She'd been coming around for quite awhile, and she, at least, seemed to care something for him. After all, she liked him well enough to water him occasionally. So, Collin Cactus didn't think it was at all unreasonable that she might be willing to give him a hug once in awhile too.

At first, Collin tried to tell the Long-Haired Lady With The Water what he wanted. He was very polite, but she never responded to him. He wasn't sure if she was intentionally ignoring him or if she was unable to understand even basic Cacti. Perhaps, she'd never had an opportunity to learn his language? Or might she be too mentally challenged to grasp it? Regardless, of the reason, she seemed to pay no heed to his requests, no matter how often or how politely he made them.

Collin, finally decided to reach out to the Long-Haired Lady With The Water whenever she came around give him some water. He was very disappointment to discover that she responded even worse to his advances than the Cute Little Palm Tree had done. Every time that Collin Cactus' prickly arms touched her, the Long-Haired Lady With The Water would shriek and say something that sounded like "Ooouuuchh!". She would then back away and try to carefully avoid him. Not only did it seem that she didn't want his touch, but it appeared that she was injured even when he'd barely brushed her hand!

This puzzled Collin Cactus a great deal. It seemed that he had hurt the Long-Haired Lady With The Water, although, he had not meant to do so. Did his touch cause others pain? Could this be the reason that no one ever wanted to hug him?

It was a terrible thought. Deciding that he had to know for certain if this was the problem, Collin waited until the next time the Long-Haired Lady With The Water came nearby. As she leaned over him, pouring water into his dry soil, Collin quickly jerked one of his many arms forward, intentionally smacking it directly into her hand.

The Long-Haired Lady With The Water yelled something very loudly. She made some angry sounds and glared at him in a way that no one had ever done before. This was one of those times when they did not need to speak the same language in order for Collin to understand that something was wrong. She was in pain and also very, very upset with him.

All these years, Collin Cactus had not been willing to give up on his dream, no matter how challenging it had been for him to achieve it. Sadly, he had now learned that he could not touch someone without hurting them. This new knowledge made him see his situation much differently. His dream seemed hopeless to him now. Collin decided that the wisest thing for him to do would be to accept that he was never going to get a hug from anyone.

Have you ever wondered why it seems that, just when we've given up on our dreams, just when we've decided that they are impossible, something comes along to give us hope again? So it was for sad, depressed, prickly Collin Cactus. Just the day after he had given up on his dream of receiving a hug, something happened. Something WONDERFUL happened!
The Long-Haired Lady With The Water came over to him. He was surprised to see her, and, it must be said, also very alarmed. Was she going to water him again? Two days in a row? He wasn't at all thirsty yet, and more water would surely make him very, very ill! As much as he disliked the idea of intentionally injuring her again, Collin knew that he had to defend himself if someone was about to do him harm. In fact, he was just about to swing a prickly arm at her, when he realized that the Long-Haired Lady With The Water didn't have any water with her today. Instead, as she approached him, Collin could see that she carried a familiar looking plant in her arms.
Could it be true? Or was he imaging this? If a cactus is capable of pinching itself, Collin surely did so then, just to make sure that he was really awake, and not dreaming up the beautiful cactus that was heading in his direction.

No, it wasn't his imagination. The Long-Haired Lady With The Water had indeed sat a very lovely cactus right on the table beside him. The cactus was clearly of the same variety as himself, perhaps they were even related somehow. He didn't know, and he didn't really care. All that Collin could think of how wonderful it would be to have another cactus nearby him!

Collin was so excited that he forgot about his fears, his sadness and his feelings of hopelessness. He forgot all about his self-consciousness and his unfulfilled dream. Collin was SOOOOO excited that, as soon as the other cactus sat down beside him, he didn't hesitate before he grabbed it and gave it a tight squeeze.

After the hug, Collin immediately jumped away feeling utter horror. What had he done?!? Was he crazy? He'd finally met one of his own kind, and the first thing he did was to attack, and likely inflict harm upon, the other cactus!

It was with a great deal of difficulty that Collin dared to look at the newcomer. When he did, he was shocked to discover that the other cactus was smiling at him. "Hello. Thank you, for that! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

Collin couldn't reply, at first. Finally, he stuttered. "You'-r-r-re w-w-welcome."

"My name is Carol Cactus. What is your name?" The new arrival asked him.

"Collin. Collin Cactus." He replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. I'm sorry about grabbing you like that, I got a little carried away by excitement. I've never met another cactus before."

"Neither have I, " said Carol. "I'm excited too. I'm also very surprised that you don't seem to have been injured by hugging me. Were you really not harmed?"

Collin gave Carol a big cactus grin. "No, I wasn't injured, and it appears that you weren't hurt by being hugged either."

Carol giggled. "I guess we don't hurt each other because we're both so prickly."

Tears of joy filled Collin's eyes. "I've always dreamed of being hugged, and, for the longest time, I tried everything I could to get someone to hug me. It was only just yesterday, after I realized that my touch is painful, that I decided to give up on my dream."

Carol Cactus felt tears in her eyes also, she whispered. "It's been my dream too, and, a moment ago, you made it come true."

Without another word, Carol reached several of her prickly arms towards Collin. She wrapped these arms tightly around her new friend, and she gave him the biggest, longest hug that you could imagine.

Until I type again,

Kami

Sunset Over The Olympic Mtns.

I took these photos at the beginning of this week, and I've chosen to post them unaltered by any photo editing software. These photos were taken in Bremerton, Washington looking towards the Warren Ave. Bridge and the Olympic Mountains behind it. The next morning, I saw on the local news that there was a brush fire in British Columbia, Canada on this day. This caused smoke to linger in the upper atmosphere and made the sunset exceptionally beautiful. I loved taking them with my new digital camera. Enjoy!

Until I type again,
Kami

Confessions Of A Coffee Addict

     I live in what could be called the Land of Coffee.  I'm in Western Washington, near Seattle, which is home of the world famous Starbucks Coffee, among other coffee companies.  The Seattle area is so greatly associated with coffee-loving that, when I was in Atlanta, Georgia, during the 1996 Summer Olympics, I was given a job as an espresso barista based only on the assumption that all Washingtonians MUST know how to make a great latte.  I never misled the job agency employing me that I had this prior experience, it certainly wasn't posted on my resume.  I think that it was just assumed that anyone from the Pacific Northwest would be knowledgeable about coffee, whether this be due to nature or to nurture.   

In fact, I honestly I didn't have a clue how to make a latte at that time.  I received some on-the-job training there that summer in Atlanta, but until then, I'd never worked at an espresso stand.  I had never even brewed a regular pot of coffee before.  Most comical of all, at that time in my life, I wasn't even a coffee drinker!    Picture this scene:  I'm working an espresso machine for the first time.  I scramble to make the drinks.  I try to be friendly, even bubbly, although it isn't easy.  I'm busy and stressed, and I really don't feel very friendly or bubbly.  Since it seems like it's the bubbly baristas who get the best tips, I try to act in a fraudulently cheerful way.  Unfortunately, I'm not too successful. 

The tips that I receive are terrible.  This is especially true when you compare them with the tips of other baristas who are working stands in nearby areas.  My stand brings in the same sort of profits as theirs, but they are all receiving a lot more tips each day than I am.  I start to think that what I needed was to be more alert, even hyper.  If I'm in a really peppy mood,  I figured that I'd work faster and better, and it would also be easier to be more cheerful.  Then, one day, I came to believe that I had discovered the solution to faking happiness.  I thought that the answer had been right there in front of me the whole time.   

The solution was coffee.  Coffee. . . coffee. . . coffee. . . Coffee is good. . . Coffee is a stimulant. . .  Coffee doesn't actually make me more friendly, but coffee does make me more bouncy. . .  Hey!  See Kami make coffee.  See Kami drink coffee.   See Kami go bouncy, bouncy, bouncy.  Bounce. . . bounce. . . bounce. . . Bouncing all the way up to the ceiling, or so it seemed to me.  

Suddenly, my plan backfires.  Oops!  Ugh!  Oh, dear!  Too much coffee, too soon!  Way, way, wayyyyy too much coffee!  My head is flying.  My brain is spinning.  My hands are shaking. . . shaking. . . shaking.  They're shaking so much that it's hard not to spill the milk that I'm pouring; the milk that I need to steam for all those the lattes and cappuccinos . . .  Then, the worst feeling comes.  Too much coffee has made me sick to my stomach.  Ooooohhh!  I believe that this is a case of too much of a good thing.  

When I was in college, which was before my summer in Atlanta, I didn't even like the taste of coffee.  I wasn't a big drinker of any type of caffeinated beverage.  In fact, I could amazingly pull an all night study session caffeine-free!  That's an almost unimaginable concept to me now.  

Those days of being a either a novice or non-coffee drinker are long gone.  I now drink it on a daily basis.  Occasionally, if I sleep in late and/or don't drink coffee until late morning, or if I drink much less coffee than I normally do in a day,  my head will start to ache.  These caffeine withdrawal headaches are no fun, and, of course, I'm not happy when I get them.  Yet, they are also a reality check.  

With my head pounding, I am forced to confront the reality that I am hooked on coffee.  I'm not just enjoying a beverage every day.  I must admit that my body craves it.  I must accept that fact that I have withdrawal symptoms when I've drank less than my usual quantity of coffee.  I must confess that I am a coffee addict.

Sometimes, this idea that I'm a coffee addict really bugs me.  When this happens,  I usually try to cut back on coffee for a while.  Despite the threat of possible withdrawal systems, I'll begin to have one less cup every morning.  I might successfully do this for a couple of days, or, perhaps, for a week or two, until along comes that one day.  You might know what kind of day that would be.  We all have them sometimes.  It's a day when I haven't slept well the night before, and I'm feeling extra tired.  I need to get some work done with a clear head, so I decide that what I need to do is drink that extra cup of coffee again.  I won't do it all the time.  Just today.  Just when I need it most.  It never works the way I intend, of course.  Almost immediately, that one extra cup is back in my life everyday.  I can't even count how often that I've done this.  

Although, to be completely honest, what I described above, is not what I do most of the time.  On most days, I continue along my path of coffee addiction without any interruption at all.  Why is this, you might ask?  It's because I love coffee.  I gratefully bless the abundance of espresso stands in the Pacific Northwest, and I blissfully sip steaming cups.  After all, I am a coffee addict, and that is what we do.  

Until I type again,

Kami

(Both photos in this post are courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

Kami Goes To Digital Camera Land

    Sometimes I think my boyfriend, Nathan, can read my mind.  This past Saturday, he gave me a digital camera.  I'd been wanting one for awhile, but I hadn't yet mentioned that to him or anyone else.  In fact, I'd pretty much given up on taking pictures long before this.  Most of the time, when I'd used film or a disposable camera, I'd never get around to getting the photos developed. Finally, I had to admit that there's not much point in taking pictures that are never seen, and I decided not to bother with it anymore.  The best part of a digital camera, of course, is that I can just plug my camera into my computer to get my pictures, and I don't need to worry about getting any film developed.  Well, duh!  Welcome to the 21st century, Kami!  

My new digital camera is also easy to use.  I'm a photography novice, but it'll be fun to play with it and improve my skill.  Nathan was hoping I'd like it, and he also figured that it would be useful for blogging.  What a sweet and smart man!  He's very good to me.    

Here's some examples of pictures from this past weekend:

View of Seattle in the distance taken from on of the ferries.  We were going to Seattle to see the movie "Up!" in Disney digital 3-D.  It was a funny and well-made movie.  The digital 3-D in it is amazing!  

There were a lot of sailboats out on Saturday, sailing in some kind of regatta.  Using my photo-editing software, I made my really blurry photo of them look like an interesting impressionistic painting.

This photo is of the Maritime Building located near the Seattle Waterfront.  I took the picture beneath the Alaskan Way Viaduct on a walkway from the ferry terminal.   

I love this old building in Seattle's Pioneer Square which appears to have once been some kind of factory.  I think the building looks like a giant cigarette in a holder.

 

These pictures were taken through the window of the ferry.  I think that the reflection of the interior lights on the outside sky look like a formation of alien visitors.

    

 

This is my sweet boyfriend, Nathan.  

He took this picture of me.   Thank you for the camera, honey!

Until I type again,

Kami

Thirty Things To Do During Hot Weather

The weather where I live has been very hot the past several days (it started cooling down last night - Thank goodness!). Since it's not even the first day of summer yet, there's still plenty of opportunity for things to heat up here again. So, I thought it would be helpful (and amusing) to post some ideas for things to do on hot weather days. Some of these are good ideas and some of them bad, but I'll let you decide for yourself which are which.

1. Go home and take a cool shower.

2. Go to the home of a neighbor that you've never met, when they aren't home, and take a shower there.

3. Put on sunblock.

4. Coat yourself in vegetable oil and let the sun deep-fry you until your skin is the texture of an onion ring.

5. Buy a new swimsuit and go swimming at a local lake or outdoor pool.

6. Buy a hazmat suit and go swimming at a local waste water treatment facility.

7. Exercise in the cool morning.

8. Exercise at the hottest time of day in hopes of meeting a cute E.R. nurse after you collapse from heat stroke.

9. Wear sunglasses that make you look like a movie star.

10. Wear ski goggles all summer long, day and night, and tell everyone that you are waiting for the first snow fall.

11. Go surfing.

12. Go surfing in shark infested waters wearing a wetsuit that smells like raw hamburger.

13. Eat an ice cream cone.

14. Eat an ice cream cone after it has fallen into the street by licking the melted ice cream off the pavement.

15. Drink lots of icy cold water.

16. Drink lots of water out of your toilet bowl like you're a german shepherd.

17. Go to the beach and build a sandcastle.

18. Go to a farm and build castle out of chicken manure.

19. Have a cool, refreshing tropical drink after work, such as a mai tai or a pina colada.

20. Have fifteen cool, refreshing tropical drinks, while still at work, and lose your job. If your job
is in law enforcement, medicine or, if you are an airline pilot, have twenty drinks instead.

21. Heat up your barbeque and grill your dinner.

22. Heat up your barbeque and sit on it.

23. Try to cool your home using a fan or air conditioning.

24. Try to cool your home by cranking up the heater, as high as it goes, in an attempt to bully the
existing heat into backing down.

25. Have a picnic.

26. Have a picnic on top of an ant hill after drizzling honey on yourself to give them a sweeter meal.

27. Put on mosquito repellent.

28. Don't put on mosquito repellent. Instead, when one is biting you, capture it, and torture it
into confessing all its crimes against humanity.

29. Run through your garden sprinklers.

30. Run through someone else's garden sprinklers, naked, except for a big floppy sunhat. Sing "Zippity-Do-Da" the whole time, loud enough that you don't even hear the police car when it pulls up.

Until I type again,
Kami

A René Magritte Kind Of Day

Edward James in Front of On the Threshold of Liberty, 1937
René Magritte (Belgian, 1898–1967)
Gelatin silver print

4 1/4 x 6 9/16 in. (10.8 x 16.7 cm)
Ford Motor Company Collection, Gift of Ford Motor Company and John C. Waddell, 

1987 (1987.1100.157)

Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art   

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/phsr/ho_1987.1100.157.htm 

     This past winter, I came across some of the work by a famous Belgian surrealist artist,   Magritte. I became fascinated by his work.  His pieces have a way of not only turning the world on its head, but of allowing one to look at everything upside-down, backward, and inside-out, all at the same time.  That which has been taken for granted as reality is suddenly, dramatically, shadowed by doubt.  The new rule is to question and re-question everything you see, hear and think, and then question even this new rule as well.

     After reading about and seeing several on-line examples of his work, I had a couple of interesting, surreal type of personal experiences.  Now, this past winter, the usually mild, Pacific NW climate seemed nowhere to be found.  (It's still missing-in-action, since the last couple of days have been over 90° F which is crazy this early in June!).  This winter was much colder and snowier than I can ever remember seeing it around here.  I not only had to cancel a trip to Portland, OR to see the Oregon Ballet Theater performance of "The Nutcracker" (which is supposedly very well done each year), but I also couldn't even make it down to spend Christmas with my family!  (Thank goodness, I had some wonderful friends in the area to spend it with!) 

     The snow had altered the usual gray, rainy winter landscape around me into a barely recognizable white world.  Although, I believe that it was studying René Magritte's work just the night before, that most influenced me into seeing the world in a strange way.  I was wading in the snow to catch a bus that would get me close to my work one morning (very few buses or vehicles of any kind were running since my area isn't equipped for much snow fall and few roads were plowed or deiced or anything helpful).  On one road, where some plowing had actually taken place, the snow plow had pushed large chunks of dirty snow onto the sidewalk, but did my surrealist-influenced mind see just dirty chunks of snow?  No, of course not.  I saw that this snow looked like the remains of some kind of snowmen warfare.  I could picture rows and rows of snowmen marching into battle, and then, afterwards, those unfortunate casualties lay all over the battlefield, blown into many dirty, snowy pieces.  

     As if this experience wasn't enough, later that same day, I was trudging home through snow up to knees (Again!  What a long week that turned out to be!) when I came across a bunch of orange traffic cones on the side of the street.  They were there to mark off part of the sidewalk and road where some construction had been taking place before the weather put a halt to it.  Now, those cones were buried so that only part of their little orange tops could be seen peeking out of the snow.  Still having my thought patterns influenced by René Magritte's work, all I could think when I saw the traffic cones like that was that they looked like a bunch of gnomes that had been buried in an avalanche.  Poor gnomes!  I was almost tempted to try to dig them out, but I didn't.  Hey, I'm not that crazy!  

     The best part of these experiences is that I was, for one day at least, able to look at the world from a totally different perspective.  René Magritte had opened up a window to a view that I may never have seen otherwise.  I'm grateful for this opportunity to stretch my imagination and think outside of the box. 

Artist         René Magritte

Year             1952

Type             Oil on canvas

Dimensions  45 cm × 54.7 cm (18 in × 22 in)

Location       Menil Collection, Houston, TX

Artist            René Magritte

Year             1935

Type             Oil on canvas

Dimensions   73.3 cm × 50.2 cm (28⅞ in × 19⅞ in)

Location       Museum of Modern Art, New York City

For more information on René Magritte and examples of his work, here's a link to a Wikipedia article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/René_Magritte 

Until I type again,

Kami

Bald Eagles

Photo credit: Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.5

I've been fortunate to see bald eagles near my apartment on many occasions. Some I've seen perched high in the trees lining a nearby gorge. Others have flown fantastically close to my living room window. Recently, one early morning, while I was on my way to work, I was gifted with the sight of three bald eagles all soaring near each other. Amazing!
Somewhere, I can't remember where it was, I've read that the bald eagles in my area are some of those that nest near the Skagit River Bald Eagle Interpretive Center in Rockport, WA. I've never been there myself, although I found out that they have presentations and group tours each winter, an annual Bald Eagle festival, and that the eagles in the area are sometimes as many as a few hundred! Apparently, when I see them around my home, they have started moving to into their westward hunting area over the local waters. Here's a website for the Skagit River Bald Eagle Awareness Team http://www.skagiteagle.org/

photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
photographer Tina Phillips
http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/

Here's a summary from a Wikipedia article on the Bald Eagle:

"The Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) is a bird of prey found in North America that is most recognizable as the national bird and symbol of the United States of America. This sea eagle has two known sub-species and forms a species pair with the White-tailed Eagle. Its range includes most of Canada and Alaska, all of the contiguous United States and northern Mexico. It is found near large bodies of open water with an abundant food supply and old-growth trees for nesting.'
"The Bald Eagle is a large bird, with a body length of 71–106 cm (28–42 in), a wingspan of 183–234 cm, (72–96 in), and a mass of 3–7 kg (6.6–15.5 lb); females are about 25 percent larger than males.[2][3] The adult Bald Eagle has a brown body with a white head and tail, and bright yellow irises, taloned feet, and a hooked beak; juveniles are completely brown except for the yellow feet. Males and females are identical in plumage coloration. Its diet consists mainly of fish, but it is an opportunistic feeder. It hunts fish by swooping down and snatching the fish out of the water with its talons. It is sexually mature at four years or five years of age. In the wild, Bald Eagles can live up to thirty years, and often survive longer in captivity.[4] The Bald Eagle builds the largest nest of any North American bird, up to 4 meters (13 ft) deep, 2.5 meters (8 ft) wide, and one tonne (1.1 tons) in weight.[2]
The species was on the brink of extinction in the continental United States (while flourishing in much of Alaska and Canada) late in the 20th century, but now has a stable population and has been officially removed from the U.S. federal government's list of endangered species. The Bald Eagle was officially reclassified from "Endangered" to "Threatened" on July 12, 1995 by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. On July 6, 1999, a proposal was initiated "To Remove the Bald Eagle in the Lower 48 States From the List of Endangered and Threatened Wildlife." It was de-listed on June 28, 2007.'
"The Bald Eagle remains a protected and highly revered species in the United States, and to willfully and fatally shoot or harm the species is a federal offense which can potentially result in several years of incarceration."

For further reading -- see the full Wikipedia article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bald_eagle

Until I type again,
Kami