Notes From Me

Friday, February 03, 2006

Aye, Sashiburi!

Upon contemplation, the combination of "Chotto mas" works much better than "Chotto plus." I am nearly finished with my first book. Living on 85 cents a day for a month, outside of rent and bills, requires only minimal ingenuity, even when fake food is ruled out.

I have a ticket (there was a sale) to return for ten days to Paris to visit Karim et Youcef in March. So I went to a temp agency two days ago and took a slew of tests. I was surprised that my typing speed/accuracy is 63 wpm with an average of 1 mistake per minute. After the two hours of testing I walked home in the heavy drizzle via Chinatown and then up over a few 45-degree angle hills to avoid bus fare. It was gorgeous. I made tonkatsu donburi later.

January ? 2006--my very first rap show, at Studio Z, Folsom and 11th. It was great! Equipto and Mike Marshall headlined. But almost better were the two guys outside, who hadn't gone in, who were making up raps on the spot. Rhyming, intelligent, imaginative, deep.

Rob Brezny used to have a thing against Leos. Every week he would write in his astrology column something like, everything could be cool, except that your a Leo. But now he's pretty chill. This week he said:

You may not realize how significant a role that architecture plays in shaping your moods, ideas, and decisions. I'm here to remind you that it does. The quality of the indoor space you regularly inhabit deeply influences what goes on inside your mind and body. In 2006, it will be important for you to become more aware of this fact, and to be aggressive about putting yourself into environments that bring out the best in you. As a gift to yourself, spend some time inside the most uplifting building you know.

Today, I got a phone call from the Temp People who said, "go to 155 Sansome St. ASAP. Reception work." Oi. Okay. So I did, and when I arrived, the building welcomed me like an old friend from New York. Someone's description:

...art moderne is nimble--and 155 Sansome's interior invites you to soak in heady splendor. The walls are black marble with deep white veins, the ceiling looks like faceted gold, and the elevator doors are bronze. There are sophisticated touches here, such as the way the long, tall lobby conludes with two shallow flights of stairs that lead to a column-framed door that's locked. But detached contemplation isn't the point. Enjoy. (Note: A trip to the 10th floor offers a chance to see a Diego Rivera mural along the stairway between the entrance and dining room of City Club, itself a fabulous place.)

The rooftop above my own, one-room sunny abode gifts me with a view of the Golden Gate, the bay, the ocean, and the mountains. Sunset is maybe best. For now, I gotta say thank you to Randy, only he will know why, and words from Bukowski the Motivator (he published more than 50 books in all):

...cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. the less I needed the better I felt.
...I no longer found glamour in topping somebody in conversation.
...(dont get me wrong, there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism that overlooks all basic problems just for the sake of itself- this is a shield and a sickness.)
...and finally I discovered real feelings of others, unheralded, like lately, like this morning, as I was leaving, for the track, i saw my wife in bed, just the shape of her head there (not forgetting centuries of the living and the dead and the dying, the pyramids, Mozart dead but his music still there in the room, weeds growing, the earth turning, the toteboard waiting for me)
I saw the shape of my wife's head, she so still, I ached for her life, just being there under the covers. I kissed her on the forehead, got down the stairway, got outside, got into my marvelous car, fixed the seatbelt, backed out the drive. feeling warm to the fingertips, down to my foot on the gas pedal, I entered the world once more, drove down the hill past the houses full and empty of people, I saw the mailman, honked, he waved back at me.

posted by lux at 3:37 PM
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