…Isshin den-shin!!!…

…ume kinou ya chirinu!!!…

Winter plum-blossoms
fell last night…
…and scattered all over the stones

– – – Buson

…river in flood and blossoms…

…Guy Debord / La Société du Spectacle(25)…

39

  • This process of degradation and loss of  quality is itself,  as a process,  subject to degradation and loss of quality: and the advent of  ‘le spectacle‘  signifies that the process  has crossed the threshold of its own abundance.  So far this is true only locally – only in some places –  but it is also true, already, on the global scale:  which is the reference point of the consumer society.  A reference point which its movement –  in practice  –  to assemble the entire planet as a global marketplace has amply confirmed.

* – * – *

And here we are – faster than anyone could have expected:  large corporations are becoming unreliable and utterly inconsistent at delivering the very thing they proclaim to sell…  and they are finding the only way they can grow is by inventing ways to trap their existing customers… …and we have now become completely accustomed to a state where almost all the language that surrounds us – written and heard – is a lie.

So people want it to be like it was before.  But they don’t remember what it was… They have no emotional memory… no relationship with physical reality… and so they substitute an image, a false kind of appearance because they don’t know the vibration of anything anymore.

So it becomes a world of appearances, only.

And whereas monetary value, under consumer capitalism, was – you could say – a wish based on a distant memory of real, experienced value… the value of appearances, in the Information Age, starts out as that, but soon adds excitement – using all the tricks that movie and theater people know.

That’s why people get all excited about a Kardashian picture. It’s… they don’t understand the alchemy of life any more so they’re starving for experience and so they substitute appearances.  But the actual physical stuff is degraded. It, too, requires a center.  So you have to buy organic now to get the taste… …of what our grandparents called, simply, “food”.

So you have to get artisanal cheese – something that has become a special thing – when it used to be the normal thing, but now the basic virtue of things: the virtue of a Way – of being the best cheese-maker… it’s really down to just a small group of people.  And also it’s down to a small group of people who want it. Most people have never even tasted it.  There are generations who have not eaten it:  they’ve only ever eaten cheese product.

You look at a cowboy recipe, and you realize that the basic grain, the basic flour must have tasted better a hundred years ago. Because it’s just three ingredients.

Everything’s switched from its value as food to its value as a commodity.  Human life, now a commodity.  Everything’s a commodity. You know, the whole thing is like: some bean-counter looks at children at school and does a cost-benefit analysis on their lives without even knowing them. And the result is they become products, not people. And they know they’re products. They know how they’re going to be treated. They treat everyone else like products.

And the thing is…  now it’s the Information Age:  we can all see this! It’s absolutely clear…

And pretty soon it’s hollow, it’s empty, so it becomes a thing without mitama.  No soul.

But those who still have souls long for things that make your soul grow.

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…Samu-hara/Samadhi…

‘Far Apple’ – (1) The Magic Window

– – – by J.R. Rivero Kinsey

“Oh my god” I say, without meaning to. I drag the two photos side by side to compare. One is a copy of the photo my mother gave me – labeled ‘bio.dad’ on my computer. The other is the college graduation photo I’ve just found. Both were probably taken within a year of each other, and both are of the same man – or at least I think they are. Doubt still clings to me as I examine the identical eyes, lips, and chin of both photos. Did that really just happen? Did I actually just find my father? After 43 years of mystery, my brain is struggling with this massive shift.

I call downstairs to Kimbal but the house is silent. He must be in his office with a client so I send him an urgent text. My mind is whirling and I’m walking in circles by the time he comes up the stairs. I need him to confirm I’m not crazy – that this really is him. He hunches over, and peers into the soft blue glow of the computer screen, but my excitement turns to annoyance as soon as he begins speaking. He’s decided to be helpful by blathering on and on about military style facial identification, oblivious to my irritation. So you see here… look at the ear, and the way it curves around, blah blah blah…

“Are you kidding me??!! I don’t need to be wowed by your expertise right now!!! Just tell me it looks like him before I lose my fucking mind!!!”

I’m only screaming on the inside. In reality, I form a more polite request and get the confirmation I need. He hugs me sweetly, but is strangely non-chalante – it’s one of his quirks. I know he’s happy for me, but he rarely shows excitement about anything. It’s maddening – especially at Christmas. But this is the same man who bought the DNA test in the first place, because he knew it was what I needed to heal and grow. He’s known all along what a big deal it would be, even when I didn’t.

He has to return to his work and I’m left alone, freaking out more with each passing minute. Still pacing around the room, I text my oldest daughter and tell her I’ve found her grandfather. Of course she wonders what the hell I’m on about. She already has a grandfather on her Dad’s side and knows exactly where he is. Her response is just as unsatisfying as Kimbal’s. As I try to clear the confusion with frantic fingers jabbing the telephone, my middle child calls from a friend’s house where she’s spent the night. I breathlessly answer and tell her the news. The most excitable of my three children, she explodes with teenage glee as she relays the information to her friend. Both their voices ring in gratifying enthusiasm on the other end of the line.

I need to tell my siblings (or half siblings, as other people would call them). But most of all, I need to tell to my brother. He was given up for adoption before I was born and I didn’t meet him until I was 19. He’s the only one who will understand what this means to me. I open the chat box, type in the news, then haunt Facebook impatiently until my brother’s response appears. He’s skeptical. “How can you be sure?”, he asks. I attach the two photos and click ENTER. This response is immediate. “OMG. You found him”.

I tell him my father is a musician just like me, and that I look like my grandmother. He reminisces about when we met for the first time, and the chat box trail grows long with our excited back and forth. Of course he wants to know if I’m going to contact my father – it’s what everyone is asking. “No, I’m not ready for that”, I say. But the truth is, I’m dying to know him.

My youngest daughter wakes and I tell her the news. My two younger children lost their father when they were little, and I watch her reaction closely as we look through my father’s Facebook page together. She’s now seeing all the photos I’ve already pored over. She clicks on a video, and for 47 seconds we’re transported through this little magic window. We see him play with his dogs, laugh with his wife, and hear how he speaks. We are spellbound. He doesn’t know his daughter and grand-daughter are watching him. He doesn’t even know we exist. My daughter looks up at me, eyes wide and face lit with awe – still trying to process all this. “Oh my god mom…” she says. “That’s your DAD!”

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Rebeca is performing at The District Coffee House…

…at 7:30 pm, Friday April 21…

…and with Mahavia, performing flamenco, at the Sapphire Room, 7:30, Saturday April 29, TICKETS HERE!!!

…also, Rebeca-san is teaching ‘cante‘ (Flamenco singing):  group classes on Tuesdays, 6:15… private classes by arrangement… accompanied by Mahavia guitarist, Derren Crosby Davidavich…  …contact Rebeca-san on (208) 713-0235, or at RRLeatherwing@outlook.com …

..and Rebeca-san’s latest CD: ‘VOGT’  by PALANKEEN…vogtCDnOPENCOVER

…the digital download is available here,  and the  CD’s are available on the same link.  You can buy them here in Boise at Doyle’s on Broadway,  and at the Record Exchange.

Peter has two shows playing with his sound design: ‘Oslo’…

playing in the Vivian Beaumont Theater at the Lincoln Center,  New York,  March 23 – June 18…

 

…and The Clean House, at Boise Contemporary Theater, April 19 through May 6…

Lynn is teaching a workshop…

Wire to Whinny

Friday-Sunday, September 8-10 (with Open Studio on Sept. 11)

In this three-day workshop students learn the basics of equine anatomy, how to best utilize references, form an armature, and then apply clay to create a sculpture….

A change of optic:

Aikido is a gem of many facets – sometimes it seems that every one of O’Sensei’s students remembered a different teacher, and of course, many, many different styles have been preserved and developed – but here is one facet that clicked into focus for me recently:

what if O’Sensei spent his time away from Iwama and Tokyo coherently pursuing what he felt to be his “mission in life”?…

what if he spent his time away from Iwama and Tokyo creating and nurturing a network of dojos run by Omoto-Kyo, ex-Omoto-Kyo and Ko-Shinto believers ( hand-picked deshi,  some of them raised, almost, as members of his family) – – – and ex-Kamikaze pilots, too (!) – often with his own name on the sign –  in places – and close to shrines…

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