blog worthy

What a day... certainly worthy of a blog update. Disaster followed me around today.
With waking up and making my morning smoothie, I broke the blender by burning out the teeth connecting the motor housing to the jug. Then with the stressful and loud construction right under the apartment, vibrating with the Jack hammer, dropped a full length mirror that shattered right in front of me ( I was actually fortunate since it hit the area where I usually sit).
My stress was compounded with the thought that my ride would be arriving any minute. But really the powdered glass wasnt a total disaster.
The conversation in my craigslist ride was animated, we sped along to the Canadian border. Sped indeed, right before the border, we were pulled over and ticketed, which put us in the 'nexus' lane, which brought us under suspicion, which brought us into the new Canadian customs building, which of course, led to us all be questioned and searched. Wow! Its another time I wish I wasnt right. For a few hours before I was cautioning these young travelers with how rabidly suspicious and aggressively hostile the border could be. At first I was reluctant to tell them such stories, but this time it wasnt unfounded.
Hurray for being right...

L

Beloved SFDI

Thinking back on that Burn in the forest. Never had I received so much sexual attention but couldnt do anything about it, due to my cramping and inebriated state. That flattering but overwhelming attention, seems just that, too much, and it takes me some time to come around to dealing with it.

The Orcas Island Jam was great, but I suppose I am still working out some sort of identity, and am not sure how I appear to others. Still dealing with my fierce independence issues, and learning to give people the benefit of the doubt.

I was pretty exhausted after that ride and that burn in the forest party, so found it took me a few days to adjust. Its not so much the dance, but the social aspects of camping and associating with so many in an intimate setting. Yes, it causes me stress as well.

I fared better during the SFDI where I could come and attend class and not live with vague social expectations, and then go away for alone time. It makes me realize how important it is, but one should be able to adapt with this self awareness.

On my ride south through Whidbey island I ran into a woman I had been corresponding with from Vancouver, who would ride to Panama. I thought it such good fortune and accident to actually meet her on the road! I was so happy to have a cycling partner, at least for a little while. I think I may have been a little too much with my enthusiasm, and this German woman, had no time for detours or taking it slow... Well she has much to learn about journeys in this life.

No I didnt have the same insecurities with the SFDI, more like trying to maintain the same super excitement and enthusiastic inspiration as during the first 2 Jams. Where does it go? Where does it come from? This letting go of self consciousness and self.

Frequently with contact improv, I feel like saying "What are we doing here" What is it"?

I have a hard time wrapping my mind around it, or of letting go of those controlling/identifying parts of my mind, sometimes I use a blindfold to get past choosing partners.

Perhaps next SFDI or WCCIF I will do chair massage as a service after classes.

So I have to mention the Beloved festival- WOW! So nice! What a positive and wonderful collection of people and workshops.

Certainly worth going to these smaller and more intimate gatherings. Can 600 people or so be called intimate?

I had never seen so many people looking like they are actually getting what they want at a festival. There seemed to be very little drug use, lots of great alternative bands. I got to see Hassan Hawkmoon, and his amazing Sintir playing. The Sitar and Tabla players also were really great, and the Sunday morning Gospel was so fun. I massaged until my fingers were sore, met some new friends, and ran into some old ones...

I volunteered with the Love tribe from Portland and helped with their cuddle dome. The Saturday night was busy with humping people, apparently no penetration took place...

But it must have been interesting to see Dancer's Sacred Sex Love tent, during previous years...

Everything was great, except I kind of Snafued getting back to Seattle- seems that Greyhound is one of the shittiest public transport systems around (meaning infrequent and stinky, over expensive for the service offered) there is no evening buses out of Portland. So folks, use Craigslist Rideshare and let the community do its thing...

I was lucky that I could get a couch surfing host home and stayed in the yurt downtown off Hawthorne.

L

invisible man and other mental aberrations

I know there is a lengthy blog coming with all the frenzied, intense activities of the past 4 months. Sorry that I couldnt write more often. Its been a full summer.

I'll try and recount some of the events...

Since taking off for Burn in the forest in Squamish (now that is a lovely accomplish able day ride, with a smooth shoulder and great rolling hills). Although I over shot the mark the first night, camped in the deep forest with the black bears, owls and something that makes a great blood curdling shriek, Like someone sucking their teeth in front of a microphone at 60 decibels.

That whole event was fun, but it took something for me to get past my social phobia or fear of groups (yes it still bothers me to some degree).

I realize that may surprise some of you since I choice to immerse myself in these environments; yes, I choose to face my fears.

I feel sometimes like a social pariah or an invisible man, (which suits me fine, at times). A constant thread through these experiences is this change in self perception, of receiving the affection, attention, recognition (I believe they call those attributes collectively as love. And also how these experiences can be stressful and disquieting as negative dressers - change comes at a price. Hopefully ones growing pains dont come so quickly.

So, The Burn in the forest... had a mostly wonderful time, there was a short time of panic when the fungus I had eaten cramped up my empty stomach... the happy ending, my friends came to my rescue, and it ended as gas.

Felt the love, yes, I would say smaller festivals are where its at.

I rode to the border, where the bored guards gave me the apathetic and anemic interrogation, and then onwards to Orcas Island for the contact Jam. My timing was off in my post party dazed state. I needed to ride the 90 miles or so to try and get that 7pm ferry; missed it due to a chain malfunction, and caught the 9pm. I really dont want to attempt that marathon pace again... the exhaustion didnt allow me to feel very present or energized for dancing the next day.

I'll leave you the highlights of the following blogs.

1. Oracas Island contact Jam

2.Whidbey Island ride

3. the Seattle festival of Dance Improvisation and my stay in Seattle.

4.the Lesquiti Island contact Jam

5. Burning Man

6. my time at Harbin Hotsprings (where I am relaxing now...)

L

Too much...

Leon is "too much",

yes I know,

and yet,

Who is for me then?

I demonstrate my passion and power through love. Should I keep things bottled up inside? Better to cast seeds, uncountable myriads of them...

...so that some may blossom, grow and come to fruition. Forever singing to me, the moment I passed life to them.

L

The trip has been good. Despite 8 flat tires over the first 3 weeks.
That will happen I am told. Really it was 8 tubes, 3 treads and one rear wheel. There is a series of events that lead to the replacement of the wheel. But riding 10 miles on a flat was one of them. I knew it wasnt a great idea, but I got bored of pushing, I didnt have much light left in the day, and wanted to get to the hotsprings, also it was downhill the last 10 miles.

The milk of human kindness carries on.
I had many people try and help, that American long weekend, and I ended up staying with a group of meat eating, hard drinking, bawdy joking, kind folks from Salem. It was refreshing to spend those rainy days in their company. I just waited out the long weekend, tried patching the tires with what I could in the local small town.
I hadnt drank so much beer or eaten so much meat since I was a teen.
God bless those Americans who pack wagons and trucks full of superfluous crap, its support to those attempting to minimalize weight on a bike trip.
Those days passed slowly but with revelry.
My Portland experiences of the Pedalpalooza were wonderful, What a great city. The people the rides, the weather, the activists, the alternative community. The top west coast alternative city of the day, I would suppose.

Highlights of a world class city -Portland!

World class, at least for me... Meaning the city has so much community activities going on.
Pedalpalooza is a wonderful time to see Portland and get to know something of the cycle-activist community.
The 2 week schedule reads something like Burning Man's wacky calender of events.
The city has done well in promoting cycling, with many bike paths, lanes and bridges. Great to see so European a feature as bike parking in front of all the "hipster" businesses.

There seemed to be so much community gardening going on in the city.
Dozens of houses with character; artsy Trout houses everywhere.

The Zoobomb, downhill, tiny bike, slalom is a long running and fun event with the P-town cyclists.

I really appreciated staying with Couchsurfing. The web based organization has come around to being popular and extensively useful for travelers. Cities like Portland are dominant in having the alternative numbers in hosting.
I was able to stay with so many groovy kind hospitable traveling people willing to take in a nomad like myself.

I was also able to attend some contact improv events in the city, further impressing upon me the interactive lifestyle of Portlandians.


"A day in the life of..."


That day I woke in a couchsurfer's yurt, after yet another late night themed ride. I Was happy to use my host's outdoor hottub. Moved that day to another host's house. Amazing to have such trust levels, I didnt meet the man for 3 days, while staying at his house (he worked long hours at the hospital). It must have seemed funny to come home to see my bike decorated with that many helium ballons, filling his living room to ceiling.
I had a busy day with the days nude ride, a contact improv Jam and later on the 10000 person night nude ride complete with nude restaurants and bars.

Victim of clutter

Getting out on the road took some time. Seemed like I was a victim of my own junk collection. All those bits of personal detritus, like my very own sticky land mines, slowing me down, and holding me back from my purposes.

The chyatchka crap, the clutter in storage.

There is a scene is David Bowie's labyrinth where the protagonist is held back by these "Gomi/junk collection ghouls.

"There was something I was looking for, something important that I need to do..."

"Ah but what about this pretty/petty knick-knack, was it this...mmmm...?

Then, before you know it, I am dazed, in a trance, distracted.

retrospectives

Its been hard to keep up with the momentous moments here in Adventure land.

The moments that lead to this point; before and after...

We had a commercial drive, protect the park, close the street kind of party the other month.

Where I ran into my ex-wife after 8 years of incommunicado.

It was a happy surprise, but she couldnt talk for long, she had some friends waiting. She wouldnt exchange emails, since, after all she doesnt keep in contact with anyone from the old life...

But my realization wasnt this 'same old thing' from ages old. But the fact that, this emotional wound had healed, and I could turn around (on the street) after this kind of snubbing experience and become engaged with another person, a person I would love to spend more time with. There are so many people that I would like to spend more time with.

My emotional health and flexibility improved.

I am free.

Sniffy vs Howler

My friend Howler said that people didnt understand art... He insinuated that it was one reason he considered "checking out"...

He may be right- but I dont think its a reason one should kill them-self over...

The Sniffy the rat exhibit might have been the apex of Rick Gibsons art career.
I wonder if he felt some deep glow with the recognition that an angry mob chasing you down the street can give... (finally! people are noticing my art). Well you can lead a mob to art, but you cant make them think.
http://archives.cbc.ca/arts_entertainment/visual_arts/topics/300-1604/

I think he was trying to understand mankind...
Studied psychology before going to Art school....

http://www.odlt.org/interviews/rick_gibson_interview.pdf
www.rickgibson.net

http://millionmonkeystyping.blogspot.com/2010/01/sniffy-rat.html

As a long ago Polish man once said... "Art is not a mirror... Its a Hammer!"

Nudism that human thing...

In my early career as a nudist I first started attending swims indoors, in public pools, during winter.

And I thought I knew something, in my basic understanding.
Since I had gone to a nude swim or 2.
The age grade, the demographic of the east side swim that I attended, set itself as predominately seniors.
So I thought to myself, "ah, nudism, right, its that seniors thing".
Seniors=nudism.
Its in the nature of human understanding to form patterns, to make "guesses" and to assume.

Then later as I attended more nude events in different areas, sometimes it was predominately hippies in hotsprings. Then I thought, "right, right, nudism-that hippie thing. Or later at Burning Man, that burner thing. Or when the majority seemed to be Gay men; Oh' Nudism, that gay thing.

Perhaps now, seeing babies, I'll say "nudism- that human thing..."

love

A young couple is led to imagine that a relationship is a box full of goodies... and that they can sit down and eat out of this box all their lives, and it will never be empty.

But it is empty. There will never be anything in it unless the partners put it in there.

And if they do not want it to be empty, they must put in a lot more than they are in the habit of taking out. But the young romantic who imagined it ought to be full of goodies, institutes a law suit against God and against his partner as soon as he discovers the game. He feels swindled.

Yet he imagines the next box he buys will be full, even though the last one was empty.

W &B Beecher

I knew couples who had been married almost forever — tending each other’s illnesses, dealing with money troubles or the daughter’s suicide or the grandson’s drug addiction. And I was beginning to suspect that it made no difference whether they’d married the right person. You’re just with who you’re with. You’ve signed on with her, put in half a century with her, grown to know her as well as you know yourself, and she’s become the right person, or the only person. I wish someone had told me that earlier; I’d have hung on then.

Anne Tyle

There is no limit to our capacity to love. We can never be satisfied by loving just one person here and another there. Our need is to love completely, universally, without any reservations — in other words, to become love itself. It can take our breath away to glimpse the vastness of such love.

Eknath Easwaran

ochlophobia

Like a scene out of kids in the Hall, a larger than life comedy scene.

Well I was walking down the street in Vancouver, and was confronted with my fear of groups, yet again.

Enochlophobia- Fear of crowds.

Ochlophobia- Fear of crowds or mobs

Approaching me on this warm, calm summer night was a screeching, florid, chichi, flamboyant gang of young flaming gay men.

Seeing the narrow sidwalk and the prevocative mood they seemed to be in, I just had to cross the street to the other side. It didnt seem worth it

to be stuck in the middle of all that, not even for a second...

Not to seem bigotted, I simply didnt want all that energy in my solitary headspace.

It was hardly a block on, when yet another gang approached, damn! And here is where the small absurdity of life show;

A gang of mustachioed, leather tassled, cowboy hat, folk singer musicians, hopped up on Dwight Yokum and Garth Brooks. Seeing the size of the sidewalk

I was overcome with anxiety, not to want to seem bigotted, I simply couldnt bear to be surrounded by that gang, not even for a second.

So you see, its possible to feel the menace of street gangs in "Charming" Vancouver. It could be gangs of late night nerdy, Asian teen, World of Warcraft players,

out for a smoke and noodle break. Or a gang of east side, lesbian, single mothers complete with babystrollers, you know those strollers take over the sidwalk...

And that they can get pretty crazy when riled up...

So there you see it, I share my pain and we are all suffering.