resolutions

normally i don't do resolutions, but this year i've been inspired to make a soulful list of intentions for 2008. i will be working on my list for the next several weeks. no need to have a december 31st deadline. but here's what i've come up with so far:

#1. surrender. complete surrender.
this is the big one. and the toughest. inspired by a sweet moment in a yoga class. probably one of the first yoga classes in which my body was not screaming at me every minute. my heart was open. i was accepting and receptive.
#2. more yoga. (see above)
#3. more fighting. i tend to buck up around promotion time and beg off afterwards. small injuries, and self preservation. but i think it might be time to be more consistent with my fighting practice. it may seem like a contradiction to the first 2 above, but it's actually a balance and comes from the same heart space.

birds of pray

Just a few pics of one of the pieces in a series I am working on. This one is Past, Present and Future/Mother, Maiden, Crone. There are 3 pieces in the series plus a number of drawings and water colors. One is already manifest but I don't yet have photos It was the first one, and came into being while I was at Omega. It is Past/Future and has the wings of a black bird.

Another is The Four Directions, and not yet started.

All three incorporate feathers and wings from birds of prey, and plastic doll faces I was gifted by my aunt many years ago. They travelled from east coast to west and back again with me. I somehow knew they had a larger purpose, and never tossed them. So utilizing them now is particularly gratifying.

They are creepy, I know, and I love them for it. The creepier my work gets the more I love it. Ultimately I'll have to write a new artist's statement for them. The bane of all artist's. But I love writing as much as I love making.

And today, while at my studio for a few hours working on some water color paintings, the words were flying in my head. Like I've said before: wish I could just plug a wire in.

But also: what a bunch of shit. All of it. Why we make what we make. The reasons. The rationales. Maybe it's because I lack an art school education. But my premise is that any art we make is simply another attempt to dig ourselves out of the dirt of our personal archeology. Depending on how self aware we are, and how honest, we can write an artist's statement that touches the depths of our own exploration. Even if we are removed a million degrees from the emotional touch stone, the intellectual exploration is still connected to it.

Try to convince me otherwise, but I believe in our humanity. I think everything is driven by it. Even if it drives us in the opposite direction.

Nice Music Video

Came across this clip and reaaally love it! It's the winner of the Dashboard Confessional "Make your own music video contest", creatively using pasteboards to present the song..and the song is cool! Definitely a highly entertaining vid..enjoy!=)

karma reincarnation and this life time

I've been thinking a lot about lifetimes. The lifetimes we circle around in this particular lifetime, and those before and after. I've often thought that the whole karma/reincarnation concept is, in addition to its intent as spiritual teaching, an actual metaphor for the actions we take in this lifetime. I'm sure this isn't an original thought. There must be someone out there teaching this as I write here.
Nevermind what the result of our actions will be in the next lifetime, but what about in this lifetime? If we keep taking the same actions over and over again, we are destined to experience the same sufferings. But switch things up a little and maybe we reincarnate on a little higher plane right here in this lifetime.
Part of what has me thinking about this at this particular time is of course the passing of my partner's father. But also the Metta or lovingkindness meditation I've been practicing more regularly. As I meditate for my own and others' happiness, peace, safety, freedom and ease, I think more about the type of person I'd like to be. The enlightened beings return to suffer along with us, with the vow to reincarnate until all beings every where are safe, happy and free.
In the midst of my own daily angst about things large and small, I have moments where I see the power and potential of all actions. When we act in love and kindness, from the heart, we can make a difference in the trajectory of our own lives and the lives of others.
Small things matter. Small kindnessess are great ones. And difficult times give us the opportunity of course to open our hearts wider, to ourselves and those who lives touch ours.

Thalassemia Family Day

Performed in the "Thalassemia Family Day" on 15th Dec, organized by paediatric department Hosp Taiping. The event took place in the famous spot, Zoo Taiping, but embarassingly to say, it was only my very first time to visit there after almost a year of working!=p



Performing to the staff nurses.
The show was kinda not so easy for me as I still find that card magic is generally more for the

i confess

As I was driving around this afternoon it crossed my mind that the blog is acting more like a confessional these days, than a source of inspiration. But I'm going with the flow. Sitting with what is.
The relief is that Larry's father has passed. A blessing really. And as sad as we are to lose him, we are grateful that his suffering is over. Now we can celebrate his memory and his life, mourn him as each of us does in our own way and time.
I continue to chant the Gayatria Mantra for him, and he lives in my heart always.
May we be safe. May we be happy. May we live with ease.
And rest in peace.

opposition

One of the interesting things about human experience is our ability to hold two opposing emotions, ideas, interests at the same time. While I suffer, I also take joy.
I remember this so clearly on September 11 when the World Trade Towers came down. I was filled with fear and sadness, but also the beauty of the natural world. It was as if the space created by loss could not remain empty, but filled of its own accord with its exact opposite: more beauty than my eyes, my spirit, my body could even contain.
And so it is that while I fill with anxiety and depression as my father-in-law passes, I also am hungry, starving for life. It's not so much a desire to escape, as a natural need for balance.
Flying out of Stewart Airport last Saturday, a girl behind the Quizno's counter reminded me that babies were being born as we spoke.
The flight to Philadelphia was empty. I had the entire prop plane to myself. Could see the lights below thru the propellers as they spun. Watched the landing gear unfold from the wings. It couldn't have been a more peaceful flight. Exactly what I needed as I prepared to keep my heart open and embrace the process and pain of a family that is as much my own as the one to which I was born.
That empty plane was such a gift. I am always in search of solitude and quiet. I am so grateful when it comes in unexpected places and ways.
At the same time, I yearn, as we all do, for connection and companionship. So I wake early this morning to enjoy the solitude of an empty house, morning light, slow sleepy body/mind. And can't wait to get outdoors, out into the world, into life.

Anniversary

Ya..if you do realize, 15th Dec 07 is a very, very important day to me. One complete year of service, signifies the end of my housemanship! Gosh the thrill is just so undescribable! One year, too much sweats and tears, too many ordeals to overcome, i'm truly glad that I survive, and survive well. It is ever challenging to new docs, and it'll surely be rewarding in the end, if you do pay serious

brand new day

After a very foggy headed morning thanks to too much vodka last night, I got outside and into the beauty of the snow. Call me crazy. I love to dig out. There's nothing like the way the air fills lungs with every shovel full.
I walked around shaking pine branches to relieve them of the wet weight of snow and stood beneath each shower of white.
But I am still feeling tender and fragile. With every heave ho of snow, I longed for the simplicity and ease of not being such a strong, independant being. But it's my nature. No use wishing otherwise.
So while I temper my own mourning process with compassion for those who are feeling more pain than I, the truth is I'm really angry. And I don't quite know what to do with it. I want to dance it out, dream it out, scream it out, spill it out.
The one thing I'm not feeling any interest in is art-ing it out. I'm sure as time passes, as Larry's father finally passes, a time will come, an idea will wash over me, and I will make some sacred momento.
But for now, I just want to be rescued, knowing full well that I work so hard at saving myself no one else possibly could.

Bye O&G

Finally, I finished Obs & Gyne posting, my last posting as a houseman. It's a huge relief, no doubt. I think no one would say it's easy to survive here, as O&G is an universally tough posting, wherever you are. The reason is being the environment and the ppl here are at all time super tensed up, due to that it's strictly no room for any minute error and every small thing can be medico-legal, that

death and dying

For a while at least, this may not be the most inspirational place in the universe. Death is a part of life. And has a lot of lessons to teach us, but is a bit tough to access unless you're in the midst of it. Which I most certainly am. And can admit, that when it hasn't touched me, I haven't been so compassionate about it.
I'm angry. Angry that a man who truly has touched so many lives with so much kindness and love, is dying slowly and without a great deal of dignity. It's hard to believe in a just god. Just as well that I'm a BuHuJew. All those Hindu dieties with all their arms and rage are much easier to believe in. And the Buddhist mantra "Gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi swaha" - which basically translates to "everything changes" - is much easier to swallow than the Judeo Christian ideology.
This is about the closest death and dying has come to me as a conscious adult. Larry's father has been slowly declining due to congestive heart failure for about a year. These are the last weeks, or days. I'm surprised at the grace that I've summoned from some unknown place. Goddess knows no one taught me how to be the light and life in a room filled with death. To find compassion and actually channel it for those who are suffering far more than me.
I give gratitude to Krishna Das, more than anyone for opening my heart to human suffering. A whole world opened up through chanting and kirtan. I wish there were a way to express my gratitude, to him and Neem Karoli Baba who is sending all the love straight thru him.
I'm into a few too many vodkas to express myself clearly enough. Perhaps another post in a more sober time.
There is a time and place for the bottle, and that time is now for me.
Right now I'm wallowing in anger. And that too is human after all.

virtual happiness

I've been spending a lot of time on the computer, surfing, reading new blogs this week. Unusual for me because after staring at the screen all day at work, the computer is the last place I want to be in my down time.
I'm far more likely to be knitting, meditating, reading a book. But everything about my life has been a little upside down lately. A month or two of minor injuries have kept me from karate, and that starts to keep me from my base line of sanity and -- happiness.
Thankfully, this week I'm back in the swing, and made it to two classes. Despite the upcoming holidays, I'm hoping to get back to my basic minimum of 3 classes a week. Just the two I got to this week catapulted me back into what feels like myself. Happy, peaceful, content and generally able to handle whatever comes my way.
One of the things that's come up for me while not being able to get my ya ya's out at karate though, is how to do it when I can't exercise at that high level of output. Maybe that's why I was first attracted to The Happiness Project, and have become slightly obsessive about it. Checking out the links on this blog have lead to others like Gitmundo which is such a breath of fresh air in a world that seems hell bent on bad news all the time.
I got this link to The Story of Stuff, from a friend, which although not filled with great envrionmental news, is at least a welcome relief to the obsessive consumerism that surrounds us particularly at this time of year. And this article from Yogamates has a great alternative to all that stuff.
Despite my voracious recycling, composting and repurposing I still need retail therapy more often than I'd like to admit. My newest alias and blog, Thriftzilla will I hope be an inspiration. Nothing makes me happier than scoring a great find.
Just one last link for holiday happiness from heart: Just Give.

walking and the wind

I try to take a walk up Stissing Mountain Road every weekend. For a long time, I opted for Buttercup Sanctuary instead, but lately I've been needing the steep incline and way it helps clear my head. Between a shoulder injury, a sprained ankle and a few other minor physical maladies, I haven't been getting my regular karate workouts, and frankly I'm not functioning all that well. I'm agitated, anxious, even on the verge of tears for no reason at all. Just not my usual happy self.
But being in nature settles me down, and while walking back down the mountain road, realizing I'd been lost in obsessive thought instead of appreciating the surrounding beauty, I stopped. The wind was wild, really tearing through the trees. I remembered a workshop I'd once taken over in Woodstock at Mirabai about listening intently to nature. So I asked the wind to gift me a lesson, to teach me what I needed to hear. And this is what I heard:
Sometimes it is windy. And sometimes it is calm. Ultimately the wind will die down. Life will not always be windy. Life will never be always calm.
The wind was still blowing as I continued down the mountain road, but the storm in my head had settled.
Now, back in the city, my monkey mind is getting the best of me again. I turn the tv on in an attempt to get out of my head, then turn it off because it only adds to the agitation. I do my metta (lovingkindness) meditation and find peace for a few moments in my heart.
Finally I take refuge in writing, inspired by the The Happiness Project to blog more consistently. Tomorrow night I hope to be back in black belt class, struggling to catch my breath and my balance. The harder the class is, the easier life is.
My doctor told me the other day that some people need a high level of physical activity to stay on an even keel. I love walking, but nothing calms me down like a karate class that leaves me sweaty and spent.
It's kind of like being at the center of the storm where it's calm. My body's doing all activity, so my mind can relax. My breath stirred up like the wind. My mind calm, and at a peace.

greetings from stanfordville, new york

I always wish I could just plug in my brain and download it straight to the computer. But my digital camera is as close as I can get to that. Visually anyway.

This scene is in the center of town at McKeogh's Farm and Home Center. I think it's post card worthy. I mean, you can get Stanfordville sweatshirts at the local drug store. Why not on location holiday postcards?

I have a photographer friend, Mimi Drop who does her own holiday cards -- every year a new take on Santa. She creates these amazing minature situations and then photographs them so they look as if she's captured a moment in real time. And I'm lucky enough to have that lovely lipstick on the napkin with knife and fork on my fireplace mantle.

Tonight, I'm fireless, but for incense and candles. And the fire within. That constant burning desire to create. This time of year especially, as the cold closes in, I dream of a life where the only work to do is not in office buildings and on computer screens, but in my hands, my heart and that unconscious place of creation.

I've rented a studio space in Saugerties for the last several months, and though I don't get to it nearly as often as I'd like, it is comforting to know the refuge is there. Even more important was making the commitment to myself as an artist. It's one of the 50 gifts I'm giving myself this year to celebrate my 50th birthday: 50 years/50 ways. Everytime I think I'm wasting money on rent, I remember what it feels like to walk into the empty space and take feathers, a stick, some wire in my hands, and surrender to the not knowing.

It's the safest place in the universe. And like the holiday scene in the center of Stanfordville, sometimes what I find there is beautiful, and sometimes it's just a bit bizarre.

Knitting inspiration

My morning meditation today was a few rows of knitting. I came to an instruction I wasn't quite sure about - to bind off over the next two rows. Impatient to finish this first part of the first sweater I've ever knit, I forged ahead not really understanding why "over the next two rows". I quickly learned upon binding off just one row, that the yarn wasn't in the proper place to continue knitting the neck of the sweater, and I would have to unknit a bit, and continue on. The direction to bind off over the next two rows became clear: in order to finish working the neck, you'd have to bind off the first 28 stitches on the first row and the 2nd 28 on the 2nd row. That would leave the yarn in the right place to finish the neck. Now, if you're not a knitter, this may not make sense to you, but the real reason I'm writing about it, is that it reminded me of two things. One, Buddhism teaches us to rely on direct experience. And a passage that I quote often from Tom Cowan's Shamanism as Every Day Spiritual Practice which suggests that we never have to read another book or take another class, if we just watch nature we will learn everything we need to know.
What struck me as I was knitting, unknitting and knitting again, is that so many of us think: oh, I couldn't do that, I couldn't learn that by myself, I need someone to help me, show me, guide me. I myself get so frustrated sometimes with simple directions that I give up and want the easy way: someone else to do it for me.
But when I have the presence of mind to slow down, and just experience, just try, just experiment, I'm usually overjoyed at the result. There's nothing more rewarding than figuring out something for ourselves.
Now I'm not suggesting that we don't need others to teach us things. I am grateful to the friend who taught me to knit. Her mother taught her how to, and now I feel I am part of a lineage. Which is really how it was done in the old days. Apprenticeships a more formalized aspect of this. But really, most of what we know is handed down to us in this way, in our families, in our business lives, and in our creative pursuits as well.
It's really no wonder that knitting is enjoying such a resurgence. It's an amazing little microcosm of life and learning, spirit and matter, dream and manifestation.
There's nothing like making something with your own hands.

Shamanista!

What fun to dress up for Halloween. I haven't done it in years. I'm working on a series of art sticks with feathers, bones and doll faces. This one symbolises the past, present and future, or the maiden, mother, crone with three faces. And it spawned a great Halloween costume as well. Now I'm wondering if I shouldn't turn the series into a performance piece as well.

All the time in the world

How quickly I forget. It's only been a week since I decided to blog about my walking thoughts and experiences -- and then proceeded to have completely uneventful walks. But today, Halloween, although still uneventful, was just beautiful. A crystal clear blue sky, and nice cool temperatures. Warm for the season, but starting to cool down.
This is what I was thinking about while walking, and even while scurring about the apartment this morning: what if you had all the time in the world?
This is my new mantra. It slows me down almost instantly. Though I have to admit, a few moments later I have to ask the question again.

walking

Inspired by a book I recently read, A Year by the Sea, I am going to begin writing about my walks. I hope to have a year's worth of noteworthy reflections next October. What I'll do with them is anyone's guess. For now I'm just wanting to notice what I notice.
Yesterday, October 16, I was walking to meet a friend for lunch. It was a beautiful Indian Summer day, almost 70 degrees. Astonishing for mid October. On one street corner, a man was standing on the sidewalk, another hanging out a window above. I heard one say: There is a god. I imagine in response to the weather, the clear blue sky with streaks of white clouds. On the way back to the office, so many gorgeous puppies crossed my path. And on a particular street that I will have to search out again, a nature in the city oddity. A tree which had been cut down - I saw the shaven stump, had grown one of those bulbous things around the iron of a railing. At first, I looked at it wondering "how'd they do that" until I realized it was one of those lovely little natural wonders. Another tree, also cut, had grown its roots right around some part of the building and its water line or some other kind of pipe, not a few feet away.
Walking home from work on Union Square, I was struck by the sign of a dishevelled black woman: Tired of prostitution. Need money. Please help.

To Detect the Undetected

I think the most satisfying thing in doing medicine is to get to the diagnosis, and especially some rare ones, get a taste and u'll be addicted to it. An example is one of the cases I saw last week, a 68 yo man was electively admitted for revision of his left TKR (total knee replacement). He had TKR done to his both knees 3 yrs ago and now presented with failed implant bilaterally. His known

a blog link

I suppose I could have done it all here. But I decided to start yet another blog. One day they will all be linked and somehow integrated, but for now, check out http://5oh5oh.blogspot.com/, my intermittent missive on turning 50.
I've been very open, even noisy, about the fact. It reminds me of when I was in high school and made a lot of noise about getting my period. It was one of those things nobody talked about. All hush, hush. And I thought it was stupid. So I made a point of letting guys know when I was "on the rag" as we used to call it. I would somehow make it a part of passing conversation.
For me, it was about admitting that we bled. And that we were different from guys for exactly that reason. And, perhaps most importantly, it wasn't something to be ashamed or afraid of.
I can't say I've been quite as emancipated about menopause and hot flashes. That was something that took me by surprise and I wasn't pleased about. It's not that I wanted to hide it, just that I didn't know how to talk about. Even with female friends.
But suddenly, even 20 year olds are making odd comments about having hot flashes when they get overheated, and it seems to be more a part of the venacular. So I find myself owning up to it a little more easily. And not so embarrassedly.
It's nice not to have to prove anything.

you tell me

When I first returned from my residency at Omega this year, I suspected the universe was trying to tell me something when my water bottled flooded the bag I was carrying and fried my cell phone. Never mind that the journey itself, typically a 2 hour jaunt, took a total of 6. I got to the train station, realized I'd left my bag with wallet on the porch, and, by the time I drove home, drove back, waited the extra hour for a train... well, it was a long day.
It turned out that the cell phone dried out and sprang back to life. But my computer doesn't seem to be faring so well after a summer rain storm. Larry and I ran out to see La Vie en Rose, and I left my laptop plugged in, cover open, on my desk in the living room. The last time that ceiling spouted was more than 5 years ago, and I have to admit, the thought flashed through my mind somewhere on the drive to Rhinebeck, but it was so fleeting I barely noticed.
I was feeling so mindful that I'd put the laptop on my desk, since I'd been using it on pillows and other floor spots all day. In fact I remember sitting on the pillow it had been propped on and noticing how hot it was.
Turns out I should have left it where it didn't belong. Larry is pretty sure he can retrieve all the data. At the end of the day it will probably turn out to be a minor inconvenience. A few days without portable connectivity. All, I suspect, designed to keep me off the computer and out in the Art Tent I set up in the yard and haven't spent enough time in yet.

Go Get an Echo

I've got myself an echocardiogram..finally. Not for any special purpose..for peace of mind maybe. I used to have fingers clubbing and a little bit cyanosed nail colours..which caused me to be repeatedly questioned/ advised/ reminded why I didn't check my heart for any cyanotic congenital heart disease. Beside frens, i think there are total of 3 specialists who asked me to do so:First was my

the wilds

I hate to think of it as a battle, but I've already lost it. The weeds have taken over. Poison ivy is everywhere. But so too are the lovely surprises. Columbine in places I'd forgotten about. Little white blooms peeking out under a rock or a stand of grasses. And the phlox is everywhere.
I lost a whole hill of it when we did construction on the laundry room in the fall. The earth overturned, so the seeds are buried. Now it looks like a big dirt pile, but it's been in that shape before, and come back, so in a few years time I'm sure it will be covered with blooms again.
Meanwhile there is wild rose everywhere. At least the stalks. Deer eat the hips all winter so I don't get any actual roses, but I'm going to really try this year to fence things off. I bought 25 6ft hardwood stakes, and still have deer fencing from a few years ago.
I'll start dreaming it and maybe it will actually happen. Like the stone wall around the foundation that was a bonus of the laundry room project.
I lost a hill of flowers and gained a wall of stone.
It's a bird noisy morning. The sun is coming out after an evening of light rain. The scent of wet grass is still in the air.
Pulling weeds will be easy today.

Orthopedic Posting

So..i'm now in Orthopedic posting. It actually took me quite some time to adjust myself..to twist from medical thinking to surgical, and be prepared for lots and lots of procedures. And I wonder why was i posted here in such a right time..when it's soo short of housemen..we only have 6 now. Previously 14. Workload is doubled, or more.
But the procedures part is interesting. Virtually every

Is it Spring yet?

The weather may be toying with us, but the creative energies of Spring are always at our fingertips.
I’ve now got two dead deer decomposing in my yard. And if you were one of the lucky participants of my recent Beauty to the Bone workshop at Akasha Con, you know what magical medicine can come of the bones that will be left once nature has done her work.
One of the most amazing gifts of having the deer in my yard is watching the birds of prey swoop down. There are a pair of turkey vultures, a pair of crows and a solitary red tail hawk.
The duos take turns at guarding and feasting. What’s particularly amazing is their keen sense of self-protection. The carcasses are by the road, a bit of a way from the house, and yet, they seem to know when I am watching and don’t let me watch long before taking flight. Their wing spans are just breath-taking.
The decomposing process is at once fascinating and disgusting. I’m documenting it each week with my digital camera, and will, at some point post on my video channel. In the meantime, as some of you already know, I’ve just published Magic Medicine: Rx for Creativity. If you’re curious about why and how I started working with deer bone, the story is here, along with other glimpses into my creative life—and projects you can use to spark your own innate creativity.
If you’ve already jumped into Magic Medicine, please drop me a line and let me know how you’re enjoying it, and what you’re making. I’ll soon be posting some photos from the workshop as well.
May your journey into Spring be filled with Magic Medicine!

book, bang, boo hoo

It's been a crazy few weeks. I've got the first edition of my book printed and published, so I'll be able to sell it at a conference where I am teaching a few workshops this weekend. I'm in the final week of my promotion to Nidan, or 2nd degree black belt, and we had to put my dear cat Simon to sleep just yesterday. So it's a time full of emotion, which I've long found the month of March to be.
It's a time of transition, not just for me but for the Earth, and I find lots of people talking about being in flux. I always attribute it to the Ides of March. I moved to LA around this time, and moved back to NY at the same time of year as well.
We're all feeling anticipation of the coming Spring weather, at least on the east coast. It's a subtler shift as you head west, and in many other climates I imagine. But here in New York it's palpable.
My art coach, Brainard Carey and his wife Delia had an amazing exhibition at the Whitney Altria, thru March 22, called Dreams and Possibilities. It was the first time Brainard and I met in the flesh; we talk on the phone every other week. So it was nice to have that face to face contact. And get to meet Delia too. They are both such beautiful, warm, open hearted people. And I just know they are true stars and will have stellar success over the years.
Gotta run. Will try to upload images and more links soon.

just about done!

Oh dear. I've been having my share of computer challenges lately, as I finish up the details on my soon to be self-published book, Magic Medicine: Rx for Creativity. I've been working on this book for almost 5 years in varying degrees of intensity. But for the last several months it's been on my hot list, and I'm now down to the wire. The content is finished, and uploaded to Lulu, and I'm just awaiting the finishing touches on the front/back cover art.

A dear friend, Naomi, has been an absolute angel, working on this for me, and putting up with my never ending indecisiveness.

I took a zillion (ok, I exaggerate) photos for the cover (you can see some of them above), and keep going around in circles about the sub title. But the great thing about self-publishing, especially on Lulu, is that I can create, and even print a book and then change it as many times as I like. So when I get tired of my own agonizing, I realize I can go ahead with what I've got, get it out there in the world, and change it when I'm sure about things. It doesn't get better than that, does it? I mean, so much in the world today is about deadlines, and making things perfect, and having to make what seem like irreversible decisions. But I don't function particularly well in that kind of environment. I'm SO process oriented, and really believe that it's a more natural way to live and be.

One of the great things about the internet and the digital revolution is the ability to revise quickly, change things constantly and be ever evolving. Business may do it at breakneck speed. And that's fine for all those type A's out there, but I'll take it at my own erratic pace, and enjoy the flexibility to be just as flaky as I like.

As soon as the book is viewable I'll include a link -- although I'd of course prefer you ordered a hard copy, signed of course by yours truly.

A Mini-break for CNY

Ya this is me. Standing in front of where i work, Hospital Taiping. My ward is at 4th floor, medical male ward. Was planning to take a 5-day leaves for CNY, but sadly it was reduced to 3 days, then finally TWO, due to the shortage of HO. 2 days leave for CNY, gosh. But better than none anyway.





Just to show some good views in Taiping. This is definitely one of the best places to go here,

black belt dinner

Sometimes you've just got to kick back and have a little fun with the people with whom you usually just kick and punch. The Annual Seido Karate Black Belt Dinner is such an occassion. It was originally an opportunity to honor our grandmaster before his actual birthday. And I understand it was quite the spectacle in the old days. Apparently bottles of sake were the order of the day. Even today, it is often marked by the curious Japanese custom of embarrassing attendees by insisting they sing! Karaoke anyone? But this year's seemed to be very civilized, and at least at the table I was fortunate to be sitting at -- one heck of a good time with good friends.

do you mind if i dream?

Can't believe it's been about 2 months since I last blogged, but I suppose it has been a busy time. I've been wrapping up my book Magic Medicine and am almost! finished and ready to self publish.
In the meantime, I've been having some very astonishing dreams and hope you don't mind if I use this blog to write them down. I suppose I might start a dream journal, but I already have SO MANY different journals and projects going, I like to be able to combine them when I can...
So... last night I dreamed I was on a woman's houseboat up the mountain from where I live. Larry was there too. I was out on the porce with the woman (I have no clue who she was), and she was fixing something for us - I can't remember what. Something woven or sewn? I remember her using her hands carefully. I looked out from the top of the mountain, and could see a lake off to the right, and what looked like the Hudson River spread out directly west. But it turned out it was just the roads, slick with rain, that looked like water. A moment of magic, and then gone.
But the house was surrounded by swirling water, and the front porch was a little scary. A sudden thud... something fell off the porch into the waters. It was only a bundle of magazines. But it looked like a gift.
When I went back inside, there was a man there who hadn't been there before. The woman stayed on the porch a while longer, finishing up whatever it was she was fixing.
I went into the bathroom, where Larry was showering and that's all I remember of that little dream.
As I'm writing, I think of my Aunt Sherrell and Uncle Bob's house on a lake in New Jersey. A place we went when we were kids. It was pretty magical. I remember sleeping lofts and hidden cozy corners. And lots of dead fish in the lake after a rain. Also eels which were terrifying. And sunnies - jumping sun fish!
The next dream was I think a remix of yesterday's news: Anna Nicole Smith died. I was on a beach somewhere. Australia? Hawaii? And walking with two girls, one of whom was pregnant. They were doing some kind of drugs. And asked about ticks when we walked through some tall grass. The one who was pregnant was boasting that she was 37 but looked like 31. I later found out she died. Not such a magical dream, just an odd bit of one.
And of course there were others, that are now lost to my conscious mind.
I really could have slept all day today, and would have been happy drifting in and out of dream and consciousness.
But I've got a half day of work at Aveda today, and tonight is the annual black belt dinner for our karate school. Tomorrow, we've got to take Simon the cat to the vet and learn how to give him sub Q fluids because he's in kidney failure.
More about all of this -- or none of it -- in a future post.
Stay tuned.

Plan: To off tagging. KIV on call later

I just can't believe that it's been a month. Time really flies. Or maybe i'm just too busy to count the days. But anyway, here are some of my scattered thoughts collected over this period:

# For those who thought, unsure or skeptical about houseman's life is crazy, here's the answer: yes it is, no doubt ever. And it could be far more challenging as you ever imagined. I'm glad im surviving. Had 4