This wild one is really from Frence.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Daily diet
Lily's visit is not completed without this home make dumpling project. Yes, everything from scratch, just like most people from the north.
Suject for studying
Chinese painting teacher tells me to go study the lotus. It just happened that I found this pond with hundrads of them, and each one can tell you a different story.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
See who's visiting?
Lily and John came to visit with the little one. I haven't seen Kiyoshi for 3 months and he has become a 20 lbs 4 months old big boy.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
亦真亦偽
It's really Miyazaki tradition, in Jones's writing, Howl never really fly with Sophie.
There is really no war, other than the one between Howl and the Witch.
Of course I like Miyazaki's way better. And you're not supposed to truly understand it.
Howl was under this spell.
Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me were all past years are,
Or who cleft the Devil's foot.
Teach me to hear the mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find,
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind
Monday, June 11, 2007
New tenant
If you look at the mechanic carefully, the cat's arm supposed to wave when the windmill runs. There was a butterfly in front of the cat, for it to catch. Of course, it never do. As many summers pasted, butterfly die and the cat stopped waving. Little green guy moved in. What a story!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
寂寞故園
Bill's parents used to live here for the last thirty something years.
Still remember the day we put up the purple martin bird house.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Thursday, June 7, 2007
A childhood dream
An old friend and his pals are working on a dream, which is shared by a few like myself. Seems like the dream is going to come true this fall. Check it out if you're not quite happy with the exsiting educational system in HK and the lack of alternative.
http://www.gaiaschool.org/
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Reasons
"Why I blog"
Modified from Terry Tempest Williams's "Why I write"
I blog to make peace with the things I cannot control. I blog to create fabric in a world that often appears black and while. I blog to discover. I blog to uncover. I blog to meet my ghosts. I blog to begin a dialogue. I blog to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I blog to honor beauty. I blog to correspond with my friends. I blog as a daily act of improvisation. I blog because it creates my composure.I blog against power and for democracy. I blog myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I blog in a solitude born out of community. I blog to the questions the shatter my sleep. I blog to the answers the keep me complacent. I blog to remember. I blog to forget. I blog to the music the opens my heart. I blog to quell the pain. I blog to migrating brids with the hubris of language. I blog as a form of translation. I blog with the patience of melancholy in winter. I blog because it allows me to confront which I do not know. I blog as an act of faith. I blog as an act of slowness. I blog to record what I love in the face of loss. I blog because it makes me less fearful of death. I blog as an exercise in pure joy. I blog as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt. I blog out of my anger and into my passion. I blog from the stillness of night anticipating - always anticipating. I blog to listen. I blog out of silence. I blog to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around. I blog because of the humor of our condition as humans. I blog because I believe in words. I blog because I do not believe in words. I blog because it is a dance with paradox. I blog because you can play on the keyboard like a child left alone in sand. I blog because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I blog because it is the way I take long walks. I blog to wilderness . I blog because I believe it can create a path in darkness. I blog because as a child I spoke a different language. I blog with a knife carving each word through the generosity of trees. I blog as ritual. I blog because I am not employable. I blog out of my inconsistencies. I blog because then I do not have to speak. I blog as a witnesssto what I imagine. I blog by grace and grit. I blog out of indigestion. I blog when I am starving. I blog when I am full. I blog on the other side of procrastination. I blog for the children we never had. I blog for the love of ideas. I blog for the surprise of a sentence. I blog with the belief of alchemists. I blog knowing I will always fail. I blog knowing words always fall short. I blog knowing I can be killed by my own works, stabbed by syntax, crucified by both understanding and misunderstanding. I blog out of ignorance. I blog by accident. I blog past the embarrassment of exposure. I keep blogging and suddenly, I am overcome by the sheer indulgence, the madness, the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. I trust nothing especially my self and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, of madly erase each line --- then I realize, it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass. I blog because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient. I blog as if I am whispering in the ear of the one I love.
Modified from Terry Tempest Williams's "Why I write"
I blog to make peace with the things I cannot control. I blog to create fabric in a world that often appears black and while. I blog to discover. I blog to uncover. I blog to meet my ghosts. I blog to begin a dialogue. I blog to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I blog to honor beauty. I blog to correspond with my friends. I blog as a daily act of improvisation. I blog because it creates my composure.I blog against power and for democracy. I blog myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I blog in a solitude born out of community. I blog to the questions the shatter my sleep. I blog to the answers the keep me complacent. I blog to remember. I blog to forget. I blog to the music the opens my heart. I blog to quell the pain. I blog to migrating brids with the hubris of language. I blog as a form of translation. I blog with the patience of melancholy in winter. I blog because it allows me to confront which I do not know. I blog as an act of faith. I blog as an act of slowness. I blog to record what I love in the face of loss. I blog because it makes me less fearful of death. I blog as an exercise in pure joy. I blog as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt. I blog out of my anger and into my passion. I blog from the stillness of night anticipating - always anticipating. I blog to listen. I blog out of silence. I blog to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around. I blog because of the humor of our condition as humans. I blog because I believe in words. I blog because I do not believe in words. I blog because it is a dance with paradox. I blog because you can play on the keyboard like a child left alone in sand. I blog because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I blog because it is the way I take long walks. I blog to wilderness . I blog because I believe it can create a path in darkness. I blog because as a child I spoke a different language. I blog with a knife carving each word through the generosity of trees. I blog as ritual. I blog because I am not employable. I blog out of my inconsistencies. I blog because then I do not have to speak. I blog as a witnesssto what I imagine. I blog by grace and grit. I blog out of indigestion. I blog when I am starving. I blog when I am full. I blog on the other side of procrastination. I blog for the children we never had. I blog for the love of ideas. I blog for the surprise of a sentence. I blog with the belief of alchemists. I blog knowing I will always fail. I blog knowing words always fall short. I blog knowing I can be killed by my own works, stabbed by syntax, crucified by both understanding and misunderstanding. I blog out of ignorance. I blog by accident. I blog past the embarrassment of exposure. I keep blogging and suddenly, I am overcome by the sheer indulgence, the madness, the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. I trust nothing especially my self and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, of madly erase each line --- then I realize, it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass. I blog because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient. I blog as if I am whispering in the ear of the one I love.
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