Pathbreaking

http://www.nouvo.ch/144-2

2011-04-01T10:25:00.000+13:00

http://www.nouvo.ch/144-2

300 / Un regard sur le Monde

2011-04-01T10:16:00.001+13:00

Interesting, the dude spent 300 days on the volcanic island of Tofua in Ha'apai. Just him and a camera.

Tofua, however, is not really an "uninhabited island". Tongan farmers often do short-term farming expeditions to volcanic island, which is said to have amazing soil and excellent air quality for growing anything. Most common crop is kava, which is said to take on the particular vibration of Tofua soil.

Ko'olau Loa Sustainable Communities Plan Meeting

2011-03-28T15:42:00.000+13:00

Pacific Thought Symposium

2009-03-07T21:09:00.004+13:00

Notes from the Mau forum - Pacific Thought Symposium held at Waitekere on March 7.

Keynote speaker was His Highness Tui Atua Tupua Tamasese, Head of State of Samoa, he gave a wonderful, eloquent and provocative paper -- basic thoughts triggered in my mind, about his premise that in a samoan cosmogeny (?) citing an oral tradition that sense of smell was the 2nd order of the heavens' creation, and positing that smell central to samoan/oceanian sense apparatus. very Kantian! and challenges the cartesian/scientific "heirarchy" of the sense of eyesight.

I learned that in academic speak, kaupapa would be 'methodology'.

Dr. Mahina talked about noa being the correlative for Maori kore, which is "mistranslated" in ethnographic lore as void or nothingness. When really it is a form of "subtraction" in a way, and "resides in the giving" not in the giver or the receiver. Emphasis of the complementarity of the concepts in Moanan peoples, noa-tapu. Tapu is "a form of equilibrium", negotiated at the interfacing between tapu and noa. Moanan ways of thinking and doing - thought and practice...

Talanoa as a model for education/research (Dr. Mahina): Must ask first WHAT IS TALANOA, rather than describing what does talanoa "do"....

"tala means to 'tell', noa is a state of harmony of equilibrium, neutral, is a PROCESS and an OUTCOME, sorting stories, differentiate fact from fiction and ARRIVE at a common ground to be ennabled to feel the equilibrium that is knowledge"..."rounded, secular, plural, holistic....

A model applied to research...enter into talanoa get in by circling the talanoa, then enter, "once in you're in for the long haul", criss-cross, once you enter its forever, an eternal experience...

-Grammar of rhythm/music: Reductive (subtract, parameter) vs. Discursive (mode that adds on)

As lovely as it feels

2008-12-15T20:47:00.003+13:00

Its great to see two of my neices blogging - Leila has samoansweeties and Lynne has Lynne's Lovely Things....So proud of them!

Been marinating on TOngatapu, niiice.... Fua'amotu has lovely beach...

Being open to finding a cruise spot to post up and churn out chapter 4....Must havesb

beach access within walking distance
access to water supply
peace,
stillness
quiet (solitude)
table
chair

I gratefully acknowledge this important spot(s) to manifest....NOW!
=)
;)

Mangere means lazy winds

2008-11-04T17:47:00.002+13:00

Mangere means "lazy winds" in Maori language. My good friend Chikako and I hiked up Mangere Mountain, which has another name in Maori, but I forgot it. Its a mountain that I pass when I ride the bus from Mangere into Auckland city centre. Its the mountain that when one hikes it, can see old volcano craters. I also saw rabbits, heard birds that sang beautifully, and walked upon the crater ridge to reveal 360 degree views. In my humble opinion this mountain is the most magnificent heartbeat of the Southlands...really! Before I climbed it, I felt compelled to, but didn't want to alone. Thank god for friends we can drag along on our adventures which we do not want to approach alone!

One love,
Lanigirl

Spa Day

2008-10-31T16:27:00.002+13:00

Had a great experience at the Moana ki Nui a Kiwa leisure centre here in Mangere. I surely felt leisurely as Chikako and I joined about twenty elders in a tai chi course taught, and my joints do feel GOOD:

HEre's the principles for Tai Chi (beginners) (from handout):

1. Make your movements slow, even and continuous...control your movements.
2. Move as though there is a gentle resistance. (cultivates your inner force).
3. Be aware of your weight transference. (Centre yourself, control your balance).
4. Body Alignment - keep body in upright position.
5. Loosening the joints...(Try consciously and gently stretch most joints from within, almost like an internal expansion of the joints).
6. Mental Focus. integrate external and internal...

A garden story

2008-10-26T15:03:00.005+13:00

I hold a bouquet of pink roses in my hand. Plucked from a leaning rose bush vine that was weighted down with full bloom roses full of rainwater from this afternoon.
The responsible gardener is my aunty pisila who has a green thumb, like my aunty valu and my dad. Aunty valu's giant hibiscus stunned the eye, large bonnets of color that grew out forth from green foliage, on bushes that lined the chain link fence around the canary yellow house that now houses my cousin kase and her kids. Down the street is aunt manu's house, they have lived there since the 1970s when they first immigrated to utah from hawaii...and before that tonga. And one block beneath that, is Ramona Avenue where grandma 'ofa lives...her and grandpa vai bought the house when they first came to utah. last i was there, the meticulously manicured gardens were said to be the work of my dad's eldest brother, uncle hoko.

Life Writing

2008-10-26T14:11:00.002+13:00

An umbrella term, that usefully doubly eclipses 1. the muddled arguments around the fictive non-concrete, constructed, narrative "I" (self, other, subject) of/in autobiography, and 2. the notion that autobiography is non-fiction...

and, emphasizes the texts themselves which may include diary, journal, travelogue, daybook, letters, poems, essays, testimonios, confessions, etc. etc. which are ALL biography in the literal sense, a WRITING of LIFE...

...and allows focus on the writing body....

Opening of Tongan Parliament

2008-10-24T12:52:00.002+13:00

I went to the opening of parliament, and dragged soni along with me. First we had to get permission from the probation office because the guy was on probation for something. Here are some photo's from the parade, you can see HRH Princess Pilolevu looking magnanimously on the school children, who's uniformity in marching was really amazing. The Tongan people reach a level of conformity that is truly amazing. Usually. Of course there are the deviants. Like soni. Like myself, and many others, but on the whole, the marching, parades, the repetetive nature of the landscape, the eternal rhythms of the islands, waves, seascapes, and the same food stuff, have created Tonga...

words....

Ta'e Lata

2008-10-24T12:16:00.004+13:00

Writing is such an ordeal. I'm currently in Auckland, back living with Aunty Pisila in Mangere. Been working for 5 weeks now on writing chapter 1 and revising 2. Now the term "life writing" has come to define my project. About writing, well, its a magic thing isnt it. It drives me crazy sometimes. I have been writing lots. And feeling unbalanced! Not to worry, just part of the game.I'm getting anxious. I feel displaced. I am, in other words ta'e lata. Ta'e lata means the end of lata - lata means something to do with physical comfort, and sense of rootedness. I feel the greyness of Auckland skies as pressure upon my mind.

I'm meant to turn in two chapters next week. So far so good, but just a wee bit overwhelmed at the entire project.

Portraits

2008-10-23T14:23:00.005+13:00

I'm writing some portraits on Lolo and Soni. Here's some flicks, the top one I took of my husband Salesi in our apartment known as Sailoame in 2008. Charlie took the next two, of Soni Ngaue and Soni and his brother Ngaue, taken in Fanga in 2008. I took the bottom one of Lolo Mataele, in front of some Fanga shops.

Happy Fourth of July

2008-07-05T14:29:00.003+13:00

Happy fourth of july, as you may know, "Independence Day".... i have always known the 4th of July, 1776 as the birthday of the united states of america, when a document known as The Declaration of Independence was adopted by the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, thus creating along with other symbols and texts, a written covenant, a "national imaginary". Here is an excerpt from this beautiful piece of writing:

"When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. "

I texted my dear friend Rachel in Northern California, she and her family had just been at a parade to celebrate the holiday. My brother Maui was watering maize in Salt Lake City. I am with the Homesteaders in Hau'ula, getting ready to eat lots of good me'a kai, am watching a Steven Seagal movie marathon on cable and just chilling before I leave TONIGHT to Aotearoa... and then on Monday July 7th arriving in Tongatapu...Can't wait!!!

The Steven Seagal movie is about a couple guys escaping from prison, and its long, and melodramatic, and what I'd expect on Spike TV! A whole station dedicated to B movies and B advertisements of "things you don't need" says Kat!

Where I long to be....Just "be"! Home is where the heart is...and other thoughts! My brain is on fire, and my legs getting numb...itching to go, and still stuff to pack...what stuff, that rules the senses. My stomach is still recovering slowly from the bottle of wine I drank yesterday to make a think twice decision: once while sober, once while not, and see which one rules!! Unless one gets the same answer twice, its not a think twice decision...Well I read that in one of these therapy books that lines 2 whole rows of Mom's bookshelf, and I believe it was called "The Road Less Traveled part II"...by that one guy...

So the journey continues. I am so excited right now, and butterflies in my stomach...must go eat..

I rifled through a boxes of family history documents here at Malu Malu 'o Paini, finding letters, which will frame up my autobiography....and that's pretty much what I did on my summer month in Hau'ula....besides hiking, swimming and not a whole lot else!

Notes From "A Case of Unusual Autobiographical Remembering", by Elizabeth S. Parker, Larry Cahill & James L. McGaugh, NEUROCASE (2006) 12, 35-49

2008-06-30T13:07:00.000+13:00

....Beginning to think about writers and memory for my chapter on autobiography.....

Abstract:
This report describes AJ, a woman whose remembering dominates her life. Her memory is “nonstop, uncontrollable, and automatic.” AJ
spends an excessive amount of time recalling her personal past with considerable accuracy and reliability. If given a date, she can tell you
what she was doing and what day of the week it fell on. She differs from other cases of superior memory who use practiced mnemonics to
remember vast amounts of personally irrelevant information. We propose the name hyperthymestic syndrome, from the Greek word
thymesis meaning remembering, and that AJ is the first reported case.

My notes:

So, just what is "unusual autobiographical remembering"?

At age twelve, this woman "became aware that she was able to vividly recall the details of the year before and exact dates"

"In contrast to the vast literature on impaired memory and
the amnesic syndrome, relatively little is known about
forms of superior memory. Previously reported cases of
superior memory seem to have in common the ability to
perform memory feats with meaningless information such
as learning long displays of words or digits and repeating
them back. None were reported to have superior autobio-
graphical memory or to be bothered by constant remember-
ing of personal experiences." (36)

-Diaries-
"From the age of 10 to the age of 34, AJ kept diaries, nearly
every day. Her diaries were various forms of scheduling cal-
endars with small entry areas, some just one inch by one inch.
Some years, her entries were completely filled with writing
so micrographic that even AJ read them to us with great diffi-
culty. Other years, her entries were less detailed, and more
readable, with 6–7 brief entries per day. She said that she was
“obsessed with writing things down” because things would
stay in her mind if she didn’t write them down in her diary. It
made her feel better to have things written down. She said she
rarely went back to review them. These diaries provided a
resource for our verification of her recollections. " (38)

"She says she can recall her
brother’s birth when she was three years, nine months old.
According to AJ she had always had a richly detailed mem-
ory for episodes but there was a change in her memory when
at age eight her family moved from the east coast to the west.
She reports she had loved their life in the east and did not
want to move. She says she was “traumatized by the move”
and that after the move she started to “organize her memo-
ries,” making lists of friends from back east, looking at pic-
tures of her house and thinking about the past “a lot.” She
states that after the move, her memories became “clearer.”
"She says her personal memories are vivid, like a running
movie and full of emotion." (39)

"One way to conceptualize this phenomenon is to see AJ as
someone who spends a great deal of time remembering her
past and who cannot help but be stimulated by retrieval cues.
Normally people do not dwell on their past but they are ori-
ented to the present, the here and now. Yet AJ is bound by
recollections of her past. As we have described, recollection
of one event from her past links to another and another, with
one memory cueing the retrieval of another in a seemingly
“unstoppable” manner. According to one theory, it takes a
special neurocognitive state to enable present stimuli to be
interpreted as such cues. Such a state is called episodic
retrieval mode and refers to the orientation of the subject as
she focuses on past happenings (Tulving 1983, 1999). " (46)

"She is dominated by her constant, uncontrollable remembering,
finds her remembering both soothing and burdensome, thinks
about the past “all the time,” lives as if she has in her mind “a
running movie that never stops”..." (46)

"Give her an opportunity to recall one event and there is a spreading activation of rec-
ollection from one island of memory to the next. Her retrieval
mode is open, and her recollections are vast and specific.
There has been research on brain regions involved with epi-
sodic retrieval mode, but not on superabundant autobiograph-
ical memory as it has not been identified before." (46)

link to article: http://today.uci.edu/pdf/AJ_2006.pdf

stuff 2 contemplate

2008-06-11T09:47:00.000+13:00

Searching for Vaka

Destination Hawai'i

2008-06-11T09:35:00.001+13:00

I'm on my way to the homeland Hawai'i, I leave 2mw on vakapuna. Right now I am in Aotearoa, where the air is chilled and the skies grey as usual. The short stay had me in good moods, as I walked along Queen Street with my ipod pounding tunes into my ears. My meeting with my supervisor went great, and the exhaustion in my skin is starting to dissipate as I near the Homestead, the Pele Farm, and 'ohana bloodlines. I left Tonga on Monday night, apprehensive and sad at departing from the man I love, Salesi Kauvaka...For the past nine months he has been the best friend I have, and I have been the apple of his eye, which is a twinkle of a star, and a ray of hope. Love honors me with his presence in my life. He is real life and spirit with mana that makes me feel alive, mana that combines in me and nourishes me in body, mind and soul. I share his breath that weaves into a reality known from before! In other words, I love this man and pray that his life flies and swims in the deep blue. In other words, no words can truly convey the love 'ofa that I feel. Which is why I am sad at leaving on my lonely vaka. But this canoe Goddess has found her vaka side by side with a God who carries the mana necessary for the journey...

IZ - Somewhere Over the Rainbow / What a Wonderful World

2008-04-20T21:27:00.001+13:00

the best of us

Bruddah Iz~White Sandy Beach

2008-04-20T21:16:00.001+13:00

The most beautiful soul song by Braddah Iz...evokes eternity

Close To Heaven

2008-04-20T20:53:00.001+13:00

some cuzzo's we r so talented!

Tongan Royal Family in Nuku'alofa---UPDATED---

2008-04-20T20:36:00.001+13:00

stuff for ethnographic analysis haha

Tongan Crips

2008-04-20T20:28:00.001+13:00

steady crippin in the USA

fahi a loto nuku'alofa

2008-04-20T20:24:00.001+13:00

Local artists response to 16/11

Been too long

2008-04-20T01:40:00.000+13:00

Life is blissful and so is the Pacific,
so I chose this skin cuz I have a passion for
te moana and the islands.

I miss Hawai'i and the states very much cuz all of my fambam and memories are there and that's where I grew up . I'm currently spending most of my time living in Tonga except for the occasional trip to Auckland to handle the business of working on degree in Pacific Studies at the University of Auckland. I'm really happy I'm in love with the man I'll spend the rest of eternity with, he's the bomb and I know God made him for me. He has strengthened my faith, and knowing that the Highest blesses me with exactly what I need when I need it gives me joy and the power to get through any challenge. I'm grateful for every blessing and give it up to Jah for guiding my path in the right direction, meeting the right souls at the right time.

Cuz my email wouldn't work

2008-02-05T12:48:00.000+13:00

Dear Kat

Sorry for the delay in response, email retarded and slower than molasses in january.

My take on your assessment and handling thus far of Mana's sojourn in your house is that you are doing the right. So continue on with my support blessing and gratitude. Its clear you know just how to handle it.

I empathize with your ire at having a 25 year old behave like an eleven year old. No doubt Pepe is more mature than Mana in many respects? I had a friend (Lolo) crashing at my pad-- remember the 40 year old with mental issues in a wheelchair? Well my well of energy ran dry and I had to kick him out. He is making progress. I think Mana will regret his behavior that is leading him to getting the boot, but Kat the boot shouldn't be spared. Based on all you've conveyed--the repeated dismissal on his part of certain groundrules (no vika, curfew, court compliance) coupled with his irresponsible drinking and driving, is valid grounds for the BOOT! Kick him, he is a sweetheart, but not worth the energy, he still carrying that tweaker energy that doesn't give a shit about anything, sucks sucks sucks. And you need to care and comfort yourself specially the bumpy start of 2008.

How fucked up that false vika's little boy home alone. That is inexcusable and your vocal input to her parents and court would be a clear and invaluable contribution to her kid's welfare....she manipulative has obviously wormed way out of all responsibility or discipline. She needs her tubes tied, mention that to Mana, and I'm telling you that if she has any kids to him that I will adopt them because she is unfit mother. But by the sounds of it they are a dead end pair and will likely both fail their court ordered programs and end up back in Jail.

I received all your three prior emails, and I think you underestimate your ability to meditate. We all do it innately as babies and kids. We just learn to think and over think. Shutting it off IS possible. WIth that being said, I have managed to meditate for the odd 5 minutes here and there, but it is like a well and I enjoy it. Also when you write I can feel you are engaged in a contemplative meditation -- meditation is just that same flow, but minus the setting down of thought....thoughts flow, they are observed but the practical response is to observe and let pass, not react, and its that non-reactive practice that defines meditation. I know my mind is a monkey, but each 5 minutes of observing it lightens my spirit's identification with that monkey going mad. =)

I miss you and hey if I am in Hawaii and you want to go to any retreat- meditation or otherwise (yoga?) I will watch the kids and house and dogs. By the way the bloody saga of dogs the other night sounded horrific. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww.

Hot today again, humid and am going to take a swim at the ocean pool. Headed to Auckland on Thursday for my meeting next monday with supervisors. Work sounds demanding in your corner. I'm awed by your energy, and see you as one skilled Mama. Give him the boot. I'm sort of ashamed for him, to continue that behavior its a disrespect to you, and I'm sorry that he didn't step up to the plate like a real man. I blame false Vika and her inability/ignorance of embracing Real Life (in her case her motherhood) and hence Real Womanhood. Mana will never reach his true manhood with a false Vika. They both are selling their birthrights for a mess of pottage. And you can tell him I said that (reference the Biblical story of Jacob and Esau. The farm is still waiting, and it breaks my heart. =(

But you inspire me - I know you are a true woman. True men are hard to find, but certainly you have run into some, though maybe nurture their inner boy brat, I wonder because I do that. Teach Mana to be a man. I hope he dumps false vika.

Love
lani

Fanga

2008-02-04T20:37:00.000+13:00

I'm at another internet spot in Fanga, this one less crowded, only three youngsters pounding away at Bebo, but I guess the scarcity makes the boy behind the counter think its cool to bump the blaring rap that i don't appreciate - Am I getting old?? I just closed a Bebo page of a youngster who hadn't cleared it before he logged off, part of his introduction: "I'm a crip for life"....Hometown: Fanga.... Had lots of comments from other kids here in Tonga...

I asked Lolo who has been crashing in my front room to vacate the premises, he was too needy, but I suppose I would be too if I were in a wheelchair...it became apparent to me what he meant when I first heard him say "Being out here in Tonga will damage your mind...." My take is that he was unreasonable in continuing to use the excuse that his Aunty's rocky driveway prevented him from wheeling to his spot...I let him crash but he was getting too comfortable, and in my humble opinion not spending enough 'away' hours...after all I do 'work' from home, 'work' meaning meditating and thinking, in alternating (and confusing) phases...Isn't it enough to be cool enough to let him kick it without letting him dominate my household space??

At any rate, walking down here to the internet, he found a new posting spot in front of the Solomone Alipate store, only at the house next door...not very far, and I fear my niceness, or kindness to be taken for weakness. Felt both bad and good about being selfish in my eviction, but relieved if only I didn't see him posting at the storefront of the house next door.

Been trying (and try being the operative verb) to post blogs that will make sense, be good, and reflective...guess I'm seeing it as a chore, but underneath maybe I just hate committing my experience into words....I realize that may be a "problem" to find a solution to, as eventually (God willing) will have to sort through much of my experience the past 6 months to put some words down into a thesis. I guess this is the question or one of the questions of my thesis, something about the written word, ethnography and all that jazz. Just wish I didn't have to sound like a dear diary in this raw form, and wondering how to make it literary, with all that finesse, how to "frame" up it all, "crop", etc...."portraits" I'm thinking will be good....And then the sequencing, will be important too.

Right now I just feel deflated from writing, although I know it good for me and necessary for my health as an over-thinking type of person.

Charlie somewhat impressed I can understand his eubonics... =) Didn't he know I just listen hella well to the feeling behind any sound... Even accustoming my ears to Tongan, yet missing so much vocabulary I can feel it...you know?

Hot and humid. I don't know why the weather report necessary, only mentioning it because I spent the afternoon napping only to wake to soaked pillowcase. Big Lani came by to pick up the DVD Walter left for the commercial before his next big fight end of February. I wonder if he won the fight in Apia last weekend?

2008

2008-01-30T21:20:00.000+13:00

Happy New Year!

Well I remain here in Tonga, spent the holidays falling in love (again but I swear its real real real) and also kicking back in observation phase of my research. Been keeping activity to a minimum, taking my "posting angle" quite seriously. Perched on my front porch of Sailoame in Fanga, watching the dusty cars of Nuku'alofa drive, roll, bump and putter by--an array of cars from colorful painted ones bearing phrases like "Can't make a ho a housewife" (my personal favorite), to two brand new Hummers one black one blue, rumor has it one purchased with drug monies from a well-off drug dealer in Hawaii. Well, must say I have been following two court cases, both weed possession and so have attended church (once), clubs (twice), but seriously posting at Fanga has been occupation #1. I turned 29 two days ago, marked by little fanfare and a box of ice cream, one present was from Charlie who got my name tatted on his shoulder, made me melt just like the Rocky Road ice cream that was my other birthday treat. However the number 29 just doesn't feel as nice as did 28, a nice rounded even number...although if my intuitions are correct, 29 will be smoother than 28...last year was truly a rocky road, and right now I feel like I'm sailing on smooth water...Perhaps I'm just acclimated to the conditions of the journey, this PhD ride, my vaka, the sea. Fanga sits on the lagoon, and the waters of the lagoon are quiet, while the dusty Taufa'ahau road that Sailoame sits on is noisy except on Sunday mornings when Church going activities slow down the entire Kingdom, though not entirely. I must say I am not proud that I have not been blogging more regularly, just that seriously the posting angle really has been my M.O., that and the fact that this internet cafe, despite having two fans mounted and rotating on the East and West walls, is always over-hot and over-crowded with teens tapping away staring zombielike at page after page of Bebo nonsense. Tonight is not exception, with fifteen computers full and I swear every screen visible to me from my vantage point is on Bebo. I fear for this phenomenon, something not right about the slavery of the computer, the interface of the internet....Although, hypocritically I love using it and check my emails every few days. Now that a visit to Auckland with Eve and Melani is scheduled, I am gaining momentem. I asked Soni the other night could I write his life history, had asked before, but been slow to approach it, he will be one of the primarily ones I write about and I know it will be a knock out piece, eighteen years behind bars in Cali and now deported at 47, not to mention the deportation he endured and transcended in the early eighties after a youth in Cali at YA. At any rate, he says he has so many stories...and he a born storyteller (all one does in lockup is talk non stop, not to mention in Tonga in general the oral tradition strong)...So he is a volunteer, a willing key and boy am I grateful.

Windy Today

2007-12-10T12:41:00.000+13:00

Windy today (think there's a cyclone in Fiji) and an earthquake last night, felt good. Friday had a housewarming, fun but two mugs and a bowl went with the boys in the taxi on the way to Billfish, ugh, now I'm really down to one plate and 3 plastic forks. Somehow domesticity elludes me. Lolo brought a kitten he found on Saturday, beautiful marking, golden brown leopard spots and tiger stripes, must be 2 or 3 weeks old only. Maybe 4. I don't know.

Thank god I had Masami bring an Mp3 player, the walking and bus riding and sitting at the internet cafe is much more reasonable -- err -- palatable with my own tunes bumping secretly in my ears.

I thought I'd update and say I was in Samoa for 2 weeks in November, a little R&R, I attended the Miss South Pacific, which MISS TONGA won, woohoo. I'm interviewing her this month to post up on Mahe'i's website: Check it out at www.kakalaotonga.com, and got to track down Walter Pupu'a, boxer extraordinaire, to interview him as well. Anyways, got those to line up this month. Eh, before I forget I met a dude who works at the US Embassy in Apia, notified me that only 6 deportees sent back from US to Apia. He said their office is notified of all transiting Tongan deportees on the LA-APIA-TBU flight, the same flight I was on this last time, and the same flight Salesi took too, the same flight most Tongan deportees take..

Now in Tonga

2007-10-26T15:59:00.000+13:00

Well I arrived in Nuku'alofa on the 25th of september. Took me about three weeks of backpacking and lodging at guest houses to secure my own rental, a one bedroom flat part of a large house on the main road in Fanga. The house is called "sailoame" and in the two weeks I've lived there have had two breakins...one by a friend who is now on my black list (there's a story behind this) and the other by some local Fanga boys, who brought back the laptop minus the stickers on the front (my decor) because they knew that Sini was also staying at that spot, and because of Sini's dealings with local communities, they will stay away. It also helped that for the past week a friend who also is a professional security guard has also been posting at my spot and alas, today is friday so the weekend no doubt I will post all day all night and see what pops up. I spent the last three days attending the Tourism Week workshops with Sini who I'm assisting with research and development of a water-based tour operator business. The Weslyans are running a program for return migrants "Reconnection Program" been attending that past two weeks. And just basic stuff here and there. Hmmm, reason for my lack of blogging, well the internet is hella slow here, but today at the workshop at the brand new convention centre, the internet is FREE and quick in the "delegates room"....Last week was the South Pacific Forum. This building is soooooo not eco-friendly. Tonga is a trip.

Smith College & Narratives of Success

2007-09-19T12:41:00.000+13:00

I am an alumna of Smith College. I attended the all-women's liberal arts college in the small New England town of Northampton, Massachusetts for my first year of college, before transferring with no regrets to the University of Utah. However, because Smith is a really well-endowed school, they send all their alumnae a quarterly magazine, four times a year, just so alums can stay in touch with the college---Smith was one of those 7 sister colleges, partnered back in the day with Yale. So alums stay connected because the brand name of Smith. One of the ways they do this is to contribute to the trust funds the college has. I know many of their alumnae contribute because one of my student jobs (aside from catering, stocking the kitchen, and cleaning bathrooms) was to ask alumnae for donations in the annual phone-a-thon (barf, I'd done telemarketing before in high school, and it was not fun). This was all new to me---this East Coast Syndicate shit, I was not one of the East Coast syndicate boarding school bitches, as I call them, no offense). I remember calling many alums and them plopping down two or three grand on their visas like they were giving away candy. One was a speechwriter for the President.
Anyways, the latest Summer 2007 Smith Alumnae Quarterly had an article that piqued my interest, from the current President of Smith , Carol Christ. The article, "Life Stories: Smith is poised to help young women rewrite their own narratives of success", and it made me think back to the crossroads in my life where I decided Smith was not meeting my needs. Carol Christ writes, "..it is every young woman's story to write, and women's colleges are well positioned to foster the conversations and reflections to help her write it.", this leads into her launching "Women' Narratives of Success", which through workshops "encourages students to think deeply and systematically about their multiple life goals." Right now, I've taken out some old school boxes, one which oholds my University of Utah Bachelor of Science degree. It states I have been conferred this degree "with all its Rights, Honors and Responsibilities". However, I don't remember being told what these rights, honors and responsibilities were. And now I'm enrolled in a PhD program, where the words epistemology, and all those attendant and corresponding lines of thought, just gets hazy. It brings to mind that great old standard "Imagination": imagination is funny, makes a cloudy day sunny, makes the bee think of honey, just like i think of you, imagination is crazy, your whole perspective gets hazy, starts you asking a daisy, what to do? what to do?" Imagination....what if I had gotten my degree from Smith instead of the UofU? Would I have other "rights" to success? Would my knowledge garnered and gathered and given at/from Smith be more pertinently entangled in my own 'narrative of success'.
The other day at Goodwill, I bought a t-shirt with a quote attributed to Albert Einstein "Imagination is more important than Knowledge". What I did not tune into at Smith was that imagined world of rights, success, and privilege. I remember being really pissed off that there was a support group for "Low-Income Students", and the only student organization I was drawn to (but too insecure to join) was a black sorority AKA, because they wore pink and green and learned to stomp, not to mention socialize with some fine black and latino boyz from across the nation....
I've decided my narrative of success would be very different if I had been conferred the rights, honors, and responsibilities of a Bachelor's degree from Smith. My narrative of success went off-grid. And adventurously I set forth to tackle a dream and a calling, which has more to do with imagination and the people of the sea...than with east coast syndicates....and can you imagine I regret nothing, but savor every crossroads which brought me closer to the place I stand today, here in Hau'ula Hawai'i....poised to lift off towards another adventure in Tongatapu....My narrative of success,,,,,,this is truly something to contemplate, and I'm grateful for the Smith College Alumnae Quarterly for keeping these kinds of meditations on my mind.

Leads

2007-09-19T12:02:00.000+13:00

Crime Fiction: Dashielle Hammet, Elmore Leonard, Raymond Chandler, Walter Mosley (Easy Rawlins)
Bandits, by Hobsbawm
American Artisans, ?
Road to Mobocracy, by Paul A. Gilje
Rioting in America, by Paul A. Gilje
Guerilla Filmmaking, by Van Peebles
DVD-Zatoichi, Asphalt Jungle, G-Men
Dead Ends---(organic chemistry) "Dead End Kids"
"The Storyteller", Benjamin in Illuminations, Harry Zohn, ed. p. 159; Fables of Desire, p. 59.
THUGS: Confessions of a Thug (Meadows Taylor, 1839). The Wandering Jew (19th century) Eugene Sue. Thug, or a Million Murders, James Sleeman (1920). 1950s academics studying Thugs: Hiralal Gupta, Stewart Gordon, Christopher Bayley, Radhika Singha. New generation "revisionists": Parama Roy

"Peace to thee, friend" said the thug.

The Pele Farm, Hau'ula, Oahu Hawai'i

2007-09-06T21:32:00.000+13:00

Here are some flicks I promised, visuals for the farm. Size: just shy of 5 acres, situated at the base of the Ma'akua Gulch Ridge. Cleared to the top of the boundary in August 2007. What a release of energy! hau'ula flows different now, just a bit...things is loosened, and we are grateful that Maui was able to usher that phase in. We mourne the fact that he is being held at O.C.C.C. and pray that he returns home (foki ki api) as soon as is humanly or angelically possible.

The Artist and Society: BioPolitics of the Condemned Body

2007-09-06T09:41:00.000+13:00

"Katchafire" Concert Review: Kahuku High School, Home of the Red Raiders, Oahu, Fundraiser for Big Boyz Football League (?), Labor Day (9/4/07)

This was the last concert on Katchafire's U.S. Tour, which commenced on July 25th. Note Maori ending, and two or three hana ho songs. Conversation with Samoan cop, noted that the football field was not the venue (my suggestion/question) because of crowd control issues.
Photos by Lea Lani Kinikini.

2 guitars,
1 bongo drum set
drum set
sax
keyboards (2)
vocals-all

Recommendations: Visual Slide Show on projector to emphasize Fundraiser, Band, etc.

'Aina as teacher

2007-09-02T14:48:00.000+13:00

I've been totally occupied by farming, and have tied in some research about educational community farming....its going to be very interesting to write now that i've experienced the past couple months.

First of all, my greatest teacher thus far has been the 'aina....I used my savings of $1400 to hire a bulldozer to open up the remaining three acres that stretch up to the mauka, and never realized how sanitized my life had become. And in case I haven't ever mentioned this before, I'm talking about our family farm here in Hau'ula. Pictures to follow. And currently I'm brewing ideas for community development---how participatory methods speak to community development processes. The Pele Farm in Hau'ula is one of my case studies in this applied research.

I'm gearing up to transition again, this time to Tonga, for a four month stint, to complete my participatory film projects. I've just purchased an imac on ebay which is being UPS'd out here, its got all the film making and music making software, so my open house idea for music and art making LIVES. This will be very coooooool, for I've been meeting artists nonstop and the prospect of bringing music and inner vision to the outer world and work, will be fruitfull.

Media, Priests and Mad Men

2007-08-24T20:18:00.000+13:00

I just watched the new cable tv show on AMC, called "Mad Men". Its set in an advertising agency in New York in the 1960s. Its a good show--really well-written and acted with a clear tone of authenticity, from the perfect wardrobe to the camera eyeing between nice long takes of interesting conversation, that like building blocks is coded into plots...the social customs really standout, like the cigarette smoking, the females in the workplace what the 90s begin to call sexual harrassment. Anyways, the episode today had one of the ad execs have a conversation with a hippie-beatnik type, and this hippie-beatnik accuses the ad exec of being basically a high priest (media is a vessle, an oracle) of the new capitalist religion of mass consumerism...somewhere I've read and copied down the phrase "it wasn't the oracle, it was the priest behind the oracle"---(that must be from a movie).

Hau'ula

2007-08-07T18:58:00.000+13:00

snapshots of hau'ula

The ridge of pine trees that casts a long shadow over Hau'ula sets it apart from the other villages on the Northshore. Right before the Mormontown of Lai'e, Hau'ula is what some would call a castaway, or throwaway community. In a close reading of the politics of the Northshore, the capitalistic enterprise of La'ie (which includes BYU-Hawai'i and the Polynesian Cultural Center) dominates the three sister villages which line this end of the Ko'olau mountain range: Hau'ula, La'ie and Kahuku. La'ie is a space in the Mormon collective imagination, one of particular meaning-making for LDS people in the Pacific, but also for Euro-American LDS from the continental US.

White kids from the continent come to school here at BYU-H to get an education. Some come to surf, and enjoy the land of music and flowers, like my mother in 1962.

Life stories can begin in a number of time-space crossings. I guess you could say mine began at the star-crossed meeting of two lovers who both enrolled at the Church College of Hawai'i (now BYU-H). La'ie and the campus of BYU-H holds memories for my parents, who met and courted between the meticulously manicured lawns and soft beach breezes of girls Hale 3 and boys Hale 5. For me, La'ie is a place where the speed limit drops to 25 from 35, where only McDonalds and Chevron are open on Sundays, and where no alcoholic beverages are sold.

I'm certainly not a local by any means, not by a long shot. I'm one who passes through. But I do feel rooted in some way to Hau'ula, where the pine trees on Ma'akua Gulch Ridge always cast a striking silhouette against an often sea-grey clouded sky.

The weather differs in marked ways between Hau'ula and La'ie. The Ma'akua Gulch is like a suction cup that calls clouds from the sea up its narrow cleavage, and often these clouds carry wetness that falls as they prepare to journey up the Mountains which are a green majestic core at the center of O'ahu. While Hau'ula is marked by this sea-grey cloudiness and precipitation, a mile down the road, as one approaches La'ie, right before one gets to the PCC, the sun bursts forth and shines more days than in Hau'ula. Those LDS builders who foresaw the tourist boon that has become Hawai'i really picked the spot.

Place and Time Collide in Tonga July 07

2007-08-02T21:30:00.001+13:00

I am about four weeks into my 'fieldwork', and its like that scholar whats-her-name said, its more like "homework". I attended the TRA conference in Tonga, July 11-14.

From memory, I think that poet Kalo Mila summed it up the feelings of the TRA academic thought waves which pulsed in Nuku'alofa, she said it in a poem she composed just for the event, and read on the closing day. She is really a wonderful poet! I spoke with her briefly because I had heard of a poem she wrote about the flames of 16/11, and she directed me to her blog site at Huia Publishers, where I found the poem...which will be great to discuss when I open my chapter about Eyewitness Accountings of 16/11...that chapter will be about the eye-witness verification for narrative knowledge aka "storytelling".

2007-07-19T16:02:00.000+13:00

a spade in black and red
a line of thought
deep rooted to the sky
tou'a and Filipe Tohi
a spade in black and red
as he flicks the line of thought
earth it breaths
that clings to the root
up into my sky
Something I heard today:
john jones
the dead man's chest
has john jones heart
our rectangle, national flags form the shape of a coffin

Streets

2007-07-19T15:52:00.000+13:00

Films to consider for media nights:

Scarface (1932)
Angels with Dirty Faces (1938)
Godfather (1972)
Black Caesar (1974)
Scarface (1983)
Goodfellas (1990)
Menace II Society (1993)

Rain, Laughter, Storytellers

2007-07-09T14:24:00.000+13:00

The rain began pouring an hour into my emailing session. Its steadily pitter-pattering, and I'm contemplating whether to wait it out, or not. I sit here in town, not so contentedly, but with an urge to write. The thing is to write without anything to say, seems futile. Okay, so I'll describe a common practice here in Tonga. Not sure what its called, I'll find out and get back to you. But this is soooo common, its rainbathing....so it happens when it rains and pours, then you go outside with a bar of soap and just take a big ass rainbath, clothes and all....I mean like people (mainly youth) are walking around the streets of Nuku'alofa with suds coming off their heads and lather on their limbs with broad smiles of abandon spread like mad across their faces ...enjoying every minute of it. Laughter upon laughter, as if its accessible from an undending supply. The laughter isn't contagious to me --- but I'm curious, at how this deeply welled kata is sourced --- even in my wildest fancies, I don't laugh like this, I just couldn't laugh like this, just wouldn't know where to start...perhaps its the reserved nature of my Danish ancestry---the strongest line in my maternal pedagree---that keeps me from this explosive way of expressing humor, joy, and ultimately, what seems like transcendence of the individual ego...even my Tongan women relatives are more on the quiet contemplative side of the fence...some aunties are gossipers, but my father says its from the 'Uiha side, because the "Fahefa side never gossip like that", he says...my auntie here (dad's younger sister) is joyful, and her children gather round her like planets around a sun...her laughter is loud, her eyes beam like pillars of light when she talks and laughs...and although I have no idea what is so funny (boy do I feel outa place, again), I am simply amazed at the conjuration (is that a word?) of pure laughter... at the power... much like how I marvel at men who fight, men who kill... a couple dudes from the states smashed these two other dudes from the states friday night at Billfish...crack! crack! and the two unfortunates lay on a heap against the back wall, a lump on the floor. It was really hilarious, but so silly you know? Later it gave us something to talk about, and even a little laugh...
I diagnose myself as missing this laughing gene, while inheriting too many contemplative, thoughtful genes. I wish I were a navigator...these genes seem well-suited to long journeys on the sea...Laughing and violence rock the boat...meditating, contemplating, thinking things through bring us to safe harbor, and propel us on a stable line between disconnected stars...we are the storytellers.

Detour Middlemore Hospital

2007-07-01T09:45:00.000+13:00

I took the wrong bus on Friday. This slightly threw me off because I didn't have time to stop off at the cheap copy shop (5 cents) to run off some articles from all my gangster film books from the library.
I ended up taking the bus to Middlemore Hospital. I got off. I went inside and got a chai latte. The two girls at the coffee shop were cheerful and pleasant, but the service was incrediby slow. I browsed one of the gift shops owned by an Indian lady. I purchased a thank you gift for my fam bam here, a grey wooden placard with a blessing written on it. I waited while my chai was done, then I went out to wait for the bus going in the opposite direction.
Three school girls chattered away, and I noticed their different styles of talking: one was loud and even broke into song occasionally to dominate the floor. One was supportive, and offered laughter to punctuate the loud one's comments and stories. The third was silent and listened.
Soon, a man, maybe in his sixties came and sat down by me, he was in a robe and slippers, wearing glasses, holding a plastic to-go container of cut melons. It looked sanitized and dead (the fruit). In his other hand he had a pack of loose tobacco.
Without looking up at me, he says, "Its an awful place." Of course I know what he means: walking through the hallway with my chai latte, I smelt sickness, stagnant illness, and slow death brewing below....I could not smell the life.
He went on to conversate, he was hungry to share his story. I learnt he was an engineer, and before that he worked on ships and owned his own "trawler" sailing the seas. He told me he had patented this invention thingy that somehow made electricity from methane in sewers and that he made a lot of money selling the patents to companies that needed carbon credits. I wonder if he's crazy. (Crazy people are attracted to me, I don't know why). He tells me he's got some kind of vascular cancer, that its "springing leaks all over the place". He's found out just two months ago, and since then he has been coming in for days at a time for cancer treatments. A man in a blue sports coupe whizzes by the bus stop, where me, the school girls, the sick man sit waiting for Godot. The sick man says, "That's my doctor, in that blue car." And then, as an aside, "He lets me smoke..."
"....You don't know how lucky you are," he says and I shrink knowing that my morning was spent in my mind worrying about my damn photocopying and in irritation at my getting on the wrong bus.
"Do you have any children?" I ask.
"A son, he's in Australia, I haven't seen him in years. I've been trying to get ahold of him." His son is 22. His wife passed away a few years back.
An hour of waiting for the bus (Auckland buses are slow, unreliable I've noticed), my bus comes, I get up to leave. I can tell he still wants to talk. With a longing in my heart for peace of mind for this ex-engineer with cancer, I say, "Take care, it was nice talking to you."
The next day, I stop at the Mangere Presbyterian Church cemetary on my jog. The gravestones date from the turn of the century, many of them are immigrants from Scotland. I breath deeply. I let my thoughts slip away as I try to feel every bit of life that courses through me. You don't know how lucky you are, he said as he puffed a rolled cigarette...
The smell of death lingers with me.
I do know how lucky I am. I just don't always feel it...."Let me feel life," I pray to the crumbling gravestones.

Walking Papers

2007-06-28T17:09:00.000+13:00

Coincidence. As per usual, come Thursday and I have the strong urge to visit the Moana-ki-Nui recreation center, where $2 gets you admission into a chlorinated hot water spa. As per usual, I take some reading material, so that 1) I can avoid talking to fellow spa-goers & 2) actually finish must reads (more for #1 as of late, pushed by #2). I was reading Sometimes Rhythm, Sometimes Blues: Young African-Americans on Love, Relationships, Sex and the Search for Mr. Right, edited by Taigi Smith. All of a sudden a dozen Samoan men (mostly young with a few older ones) make big waves as they wade into the spa, I keep my cool, however it was short-lived....the temperature of the water immediately rose miraculously. I don't know if it was the amount of people in the spa, their testosterone, my estrogen, or just the faulty jet streams and piping, but whew, was I hot. However, too ma (embarrassed) to leave in a bikini in front of a dozen gazing admirers (at least I hope they would admire), I sat in the spa for a full hour, waiting for them to leave first...which they did, all the while I ignored furtive glances, and even comments made by the bolder (more obnoxious) youngbloods, who said in Samoan something about me studying. Yes, I was studying, studying a book full of short essays written by a range of Black men and women about one thing: the rhythm and blues we call "love"...
...On my walk home from the Moana-ki-Nui spa, I pick up four pieces of white paper, stapled together. It is the walking papers ("release licence") from the Dept of Corrections of NZ, for "offender subject to short-term sentence who is released from prison or home detention on court-imposed conditions". The offendors name: William James Parata, #139222. Date of release: 15 Dec 2004. Prison: Mt. Eden Mens, "Where you have been serving a sentance of imprisonment, which started on 24 Nov 2004, for the offence(s) of: Default in payment of fine, driving in a dangerous manner, drove under influence drink/drugs-3rd/Sub, other assaults with weapon."
I've got my walking papers. I leave on Monday for Tonga..."fieldwork", which in my case, is "Homework"...I will be taking a journey to find my homes.
I see finding the walking papers of William James Parata another coincidence, a sign that I am on a path, that is not 'right' nor 'wrong'. I'm on a path that, simply stated, is authentically mine. And no one has ever walked this path before. Somewhere recently (I think in the book "Participatory Methods") someone wrote that there is a saying that says "A path is made by walking. Paths don't exist until someone makes the first steps." Or something to that effect. My passion for prison abolition remains. Who is William James Parata? Is he still on the streets? Or did he become another recidivist offender? His crimes were fairly minor...and he served only three weeks of a six month sentence. However, I 'm thinking if this guy was in the states, and was a non-citizen, and committed the same crimes, he would probably be deported to his native country. "Assaults with weapon" sounds to me like an "Aggravated Felony" ala IRA-IIRA 1996.
How did WJ Parata's walking papers get here, to the Bader Dr. sidewalk nearly three years after they were first distributed? And the paper is still white, looks like its been indoors for ages. I can still see the bends in the paper, as if it had been folded in an envelope. Up at the top in blue ink is handwritten "copy" (looks like a girl's writing). I deduce that this must be WJ's actual copy. Where are you WJ? I hope you are free, and having a good, loving life.

"Education of the Chieftan" by Pablo Neruda

2007-06-28T13:27:00.000+13:00

Se hizo crystal de transparencia dura.
Estudio para viento huracanado.
Se combatio hasta apagar la sangre.
Solo entonces fue digno de su pueblo.

He became glass of transparent hardness.
He studied to be a hurricane wind.
He fought himself until his blood was extinguished.
Only then was he worthy of his people.

Angela Davis at Auckland U

2007-06-26T00:36:00.000+13:00

Tonight I heard Angela Davis, activist/black panther/intellectual, speak at the Maidmont Theatre at the Univ. of Auckland. I got there late cuz i was so hungry i had to stop at Wendy's for a kid's meal. The seats were full, and the lobby was overflowing, probably 80-100 people in the lobby, looking at a small screen. Luckily they had rigged up speakers, so we could hear her.

She discoursed about the US prison apparatus, racial structures...she said "racism is more powerful today than in the civil rights era", because the institutionalization is hidden...being a matter of imperceptibility/visibility...and that the post 1960s changes in the US---de-industrialization---gave cause to the rise in the "prison industrial complex". The "socialist world has disintegrated".

She pointed to the need for NZ and US to share their prison histories, as next to the US, NZ has the 2nd highest incarceration rate.

She discussed "felony disenfranchisement" (ie. in Florida, 1/3 of black males couldn't vote because they had been divested of the right to vote, therefore the election that George W. "won" would have had different results if this tradition of felony disenfranchisement wasn't the case).

She talked about the state as a violent perpetrator.

She was very clear about her demand for the abolishment of imprisonment as the dominant form of discipline in our world. She asked us to think about what this might mean. She emphasized forgiveness, compassion, restoration, justice, and pointed to indigenous models like the Maori's have, for restorative justice.

She recommended a drug use report from the Justice Policy Institute in Oct. 2005, which gave statistics of white and black youth drug use.

decarceration
incarceration
need for: education, hosuing, health care, community compassion for decarceration agendas.

Pidgin: "Tita"

2007-06-24T20:16:00.000+13:00

A tita is hawaiian pidgin meaning strong woman, tough woman, a local, she is the female counterpart to a "moke", and their genealogy is anti-colonial resistors of colonization. According to an article by Susan M. Schultz, "Local Vocals: Hawai's Pigin Literature, Performance and Postcoloniality" in the book Close Listening Poetry and the Performed Word by Charles Bernstein, tita refers to a "large woman with a loud voice, who is brash and often funny...Tita's gain their authority through their voices..."(Oxford University Press 1998:345).

Mokes, titas....Hawaiian resistance
Thugs

What to do

2007-06-24T19:45:00.000+13:00

Childhood

2007-06-23T19:59:00.000+13:00

Childhood is full of poetry, the faith in the word, understanding using our hearts. Childhood stories reflect this state of our being --- who we are at our core. I want so much to share this! And our witnesses to our childhoods, our siblings, how special these relationships are. Even years and years of staying out of touch doesn't change the fact that those are the people who witnessed who I am, their love created me, and I am grateful for that reflection. Our siblings-- our soulmates --- mirrors of ourselves, our DNA is the same 100%, we share the same blood, and it could be said that as spiritual partners, born of the same blood and born of the same spirit, we share the same path. These relationships are not like our marraiges are --- chosen partners who chose to at a particular moment in time, say "I do promise" I do, I do, I do, I do choose to walk step in step with you, our paths, from two merge and become one. How special these relationships are.

Who make up the stories of our childhood? Who are the main characters? The people who inhabit those tales, whose breath created the yarn which we pull out to weave for those we have chosen to replace them?

2007-06-23T17:15:00.000+13:00

Its a saturday and I am recovering from a hangover. These are details that belong in a diary not a blog. (Note to self). I'm new to this blogging thing. Sure, some people probably overuse the diary aspect of blogging, using it to spill their innermost guts and crap into electronic space. Me, I'm using this as a practical tool that I can use everyday, to sharpen my writing skills. In particular, I'd like to get more of a sense how my thinking in "I" sentences comes out on paper. I'm starting research for my PhD, fieldwork, and I am using autobiography method to write up my results. Obviously I want to get the right balance of voice. Blogging will help me during my fieldwork also, so I have to go to the computer and blogg, it will be like my fieldwork diary. It is good because I need to be reminded the public nature of my thesis writing --- that although it is autobiographical, that it is also a public document meant to be shared. Already my mind is tired today. That's because I got drunk last night, and the mind tends to shut down when it gets drunk...I have read about chakras, the energy points on the body, and it seems to me that its the lower three chakras that especially are affected by alcohol. Let's say other of mankind's older drugs (not the new synthetic ones) like marijauna or magic mushrooms, those are very much in the third eye chakra. Coffee, I think coffee feels like a throat and crown chakra. What the hell do I know? All I know is that I got in a fight last night while drunk. I smashed a glass cup and held it up to this guys chest, as I had taken his phone holding it for ransom because he tried to say that he didn't steal my ten dollars. I know he stole my ten dollars. And while it seems like an over reaction to break a glass and hold it to his chest, it was the principle of the matter. I laughed while I held the bottle in one hand and his cell phone in the other out of his reach while saying "Give me my ten dollars back and I'll give you your phone back!" This went on for about five minutes or longer. My friends I came with made him reach into his godamn pockets and he fished out 7.50, but the thing was that I had given him 10 dollars for a 2 dollar game of pool...but the pool table didn't even take dollars, it was a change only table, so I'm wondering where the hell did my paper money go??? That was the irrational thing about it. HE started the irrationality...I just followed madly up on it. I think the clubgoers outside thought it was funny. One guy was like "WOW" I guess NZ has never seen how titas fight. I was with some proper-raised Tongan girls. Tongan girls in the states are more wild. Everything in the States is more wild. me and NZ have nothin in common. I don't drink well and I don't sit and watch rugby well. That excludes me from about 98% of social activity in this country.

Breaking IN

2007-06-22T01:01:00.000+13:00

My name is Lea Lani. I was born in 1979, had an awesome childhood in the 80s, hit those rough and tumble teenage years in the straight crazy 90s, and since the millenium have been tumbling through my roaring twenties. Whew, I read in my astrology book that Saturn is returning to my natal chart right now...apparently that means a burning inferno and crumbling of ALL that was not working...I know that when the universe points me in a direction, that I better listen.

Lea: Goddess of canoe building one of her kinolau (body form) is Elepai`o-A little forest bird that guides to the proper tree for cutting down. Warns of tree being bad by landing on the tree and pecking on it, showing the wood is damaged or bugs in the tree.

Lani: Heaven, Sky

My name is my blessing. Naming is important, sounds create the universe entire. I read today that some people (1 in 200) see colors when they hear a sound. How trippy is that! If that were me (and it was the time I ate some LSD) I would do nothing but make sounds come out of my mouth and other people's. I would sit back and watch while the colors mixed.

"Now say it slowly!"

"Quicker, like a chop chop!"

Well, if I was a synesthete (for that's what they are called by the Scientists) I probably would be used to it...born with it, so it doesn't seem special. That's the thing about perception...its so subjective, how would we even figure out if we were a synesthete? And are there various levels of this mixing, blending, overlapping, or otherwise scrambling of the conventionally conceived (5) partitions between the sense apparatus? Gawd if only I could remember that LSD trip I took back the night before President George Dubba declared war on Iraq after 9/11. It felt like I was in a fishbowl that morning, and listening on the radio to the national anouncement. This was in Salt Lake, and if memory serves (which sometimes it doesn't) it was also the morning of the Sunday service for the LDS General Conference. Anyways, sugarcube, and wow, the afghan that covered me sitting on the couch was moving...not the afghan, but the colors that were running through it...and I perceived that all the colors in the room were liquidating like that, moving, moving, in all different ways, but to one rhythm you know?