Sunday, June 19, 2016

When The Life You Knew Passes You By

One of the things about photography that I like is that it helps me see things. It helps me to remember and maybe one day prove to somebody that this is different. It is not like we thought it was.

It is the small things.

 Like seven dollars for a jar of beets.

I like beets. I like to eat them. I like to drink beet juice.
I would not like to pay seven dollar a jar for picked or non-picked beets.

That is just me. I can afford too. I have the money in my wallet.

But when did this become the norm for downtown Los Angeles?

Since gentrification. I don't see gentrification as good or bad. It is the normal change of how human see resources.

When people with money and no place to go turn their attention to poor or broke folks neighborhoods that is when trouble starts to brew.

What is bad is how humans behave when gentrification arrives. First order of business, jack up the rents and push existing businesses out.

And no matter how many times the existing neighborhood folks asked for assistance in dealing with crime and problem all of the sudden there is a police presence. The undesirables are pushed out and away.

This can include many of the same folks that spent 10+ years trying to get attention.

When people with money and no place to go start to root in poor or broke folks neighborhoods they discover stuff.

Or not. 

People and places and things are disappearing.

I'm taking notes but I'm not sure who to report back to; you see I have been told that I am no longer relevant and hurry up and die.

As always, I chose to be a contrarian.

Friday, May 13, 2016

There Is the Dance and Risk of Loss

Yeah, the dance. Not talking about the Rumpshaker or the Electric Slide.

This is a video created by two people (not the dancers in the video) about what they got out of a song by the band Alabama Shakes.

They were inspired by the song and created a video. Apparently there was a contest by the band that fans could participate by creating an official video.

This didn't win.

Hold on.

What do you do when you create something good, with good intent?

That could be considered to violate copyright?

You hold your breath and hope for the best. I don't know how long this video will be up.

Can you have an official and permitted unofficial version of a work?

We are about to find out.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Books as Conduits of Thought

It has been a awhile since my last post. I might get kicked out the the blogging union if there was such as thing. Wait, I think somebody tried to start one years ago but I haven't heard anything about it so maybe it isn't a thing.

I type at people I know that are on FB but I miss this. There doesn't seem to be time for thought or reflection. It is all "tell me now, feel it now, now, now, now"

Sometimes you need to shut up.

Shut up. Not in the pejorative meaning.

Shut your soul up and contemplate the universe.
Shut up with a book and be transported to another place.
Shut up and establish yourself within yourself so you don't have to run to someone else for affirmation.

Books and old, smelly wonderful books stores can help you do that; if you let them. We might have run out of time. Old smelly bookstores are going away or have gone.

This is a closing book store in New York. It is a video from the New Yorker Magazine.

Places like this nurtured me. Raised me up and helped me to survive.

What do we have now but sound bite literacy. And now we get sound bite hatred as political actions and racism, sexism and all kinds of phobias as a violent reaction to change.

Change is coming; for good or for evil. Evil is doing well and it is profitable. Good might have to stop wondering how evil is making bank and work on actually doing something away from the keyboard.

Ha, ha, ha....ha.

Maybe I should go find a book and cry on the pages.

Friday, March 11, 2016

I am I little woodzy - I was a good girl tody

Update: You know how people say you shouldn't drink and drive?  The same could be said for blogging after being drugged to have your tooth extracted.

I'm going to clean up spelling and stuff but I was so out of my head when I typed this that I don't remember doing it. 


I just got back from the dentist. He listen to me. I told him my situation with other dentists.

He said he could treat me. I had to believe him, I had no choice.

My mind and mouth are still funny. I took 3x my medication than I should.
It was the only way.

Plus, I got the Novocain so it was a two for one special.

The dentist was cute. That always helps.
My mind is numb and I am really tired. So are my lips and cheeks.

I am the living incarnation of I have no-mouth and I must scream.

It is raining hard

My lips are numb.

I'm going to bed now.

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

Fair Trial and Waffles

This is an episode from Four Star Theater from 1955. The producer and star is Dick Powell.

This episode is about a lynching that happens in a small town. It is about how the town people acknowledge that the event happened and wants to forget.

It is about a reporter that had seen a lynching before and came to do battle.

For the record, it was a white person that got strung up. Television in the 1955 was willing to take on the topic but not integration.

Besides, there was still real world lynching going on the 1950s and well, no need to upset the sponsors anymore than necessary.

I'm more impressed with the storytelling of a complicated subject that gets effectively compressed into 29 minutes. I'm not shocked that there was an effort to make those people that lynched a human being "sympathetic" no matter how many times it was stated that it was a horrible, wicked thing that the townspeople shared as a mob.

Just like some of the horrible, wicked things that are passing for political discourse now days. Guns included. I can't get out of my mind the Biloxi Waffle House waitress being shot in the head because she asked a customer to put out his cigarette.

I can't get out of my mind the shoot up at Planned Parenthood that killed people by a Pro-Life person.

I can't get out of mind the support for his actions by so-called faith based people.

I can only hope that Saint Pete has got that trapped door lubed up for the posers come forth.

If you can't be safe chomping down at the Waffle House...damn.

I might turn into a Dick Powell junkie because he sang, danced, was a great hard nose detective on radio and I'm just finding out about his television work. I don't want to take refuge in the past but I might swing by for a visit when contemporary times get a little rough.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Misconceptions and Fear Equal Confusion

I love mass transit. It is a laboratory. It is a rolling mental health waiting room. It is the best of us and the worst of us locked in communion.

This is my testimony.

I was gazing out the window, looking at the mountains behind man-made buildings and wondering for the #1875 time what have they witness, what came and disappeared.

I noticed a group of people waking down the street. Two by two. Focused.

There was a sign but I couldn't read it. Then a whole bunch more people started walking down the street. They appeared to be almost all white people.

"That's strange."

I thought to myself. I kept trying to look for a sign or a reason for this to be happening. Was it right-wingers or Tea Party people?

I didn't see any sheets or confederate flags tatted on anybody's body.

They weren't loud, or talkative. They just walked.

Still, I got a little twitchy. Recent events have made everybody a bit more nervous.

The gentleman in the seat behind me was beginning to freak out.

"What all them white folks walking down the street for? It is a protest or parade or something?
You know they don't walk if they don't have to; must be something bad going on!"

And then his imagination leaped like a rocket; pulling up all the recent pain and hurts. He went from zero to 60 in two minutes, getting louder and more agitated.

I'm still looking for a sign. A poster. Anything to restore the silence quo.

This is my fault. I should have had my glasses fixed. I got to where I needed to be and got off the bus.

I crossed the street.
I stood on the corner.
From a small distance, I watched them go by.

It was a walk for suicide prevention. Many had tee-shirts with the phase Out of the Darkness.

Oh. Yes. People been off worlding themselves at an accelerated rate.

And then I kept looking. Where the black folks? The Asians and Latinos?

Might have been in another part of the line.

I don't know.  I was having a moment of intersectionality* between mental health, race, fear, depression, the unknown and burning desire for some Blue Moon bread.

Some days are just so dang confusing.

 *Intersectionality (or intersectional theory) is the study of overlapping or intersecting social identities and related systems of oppression, domination or discrimination.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Bryan Stevenson at Zeitgeist 2015

I am leery about talking about problems without attempting to have space for ideas and solutions.

I am weary of people finding excuses for damning other people to hell without having a slice of compassion or the ability to lean to the left or right to see another point of view.

And if you have been in hell how much grace will you receive for being less than perfect as you try to find your way out?

This is a talk by Bryan Stevenson. Among many things,he is the author of Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. He was invited to speak at Google Zeitgeist.

This gentleman is a master speaker so he will draw you into the concepts he is trying to convey.

It is just under 27 minutes in length.You will not hear any of the presidential candidates go deep into solutions. They can't. They don't have any. And if they did the other side would be the obstruction force.

We, on the other hand, can come up with solutions. It can be flip positive.