Roba Remains

The Alma Sonnets

2011-12-04T18:37:00.000-08:00

Alma 5:38
Behold, I say unto you, that the shepherd doth call you; yea, and in his own name he doth call you, which is the name of Christ; and if ye will not hearken unto the voice of the good shepherd, by which ye are called, behold, ye are not the sheep of the good shepherd.

The shepherd calls his bleating lambs to keep
Within the well-spring of His voice to hear
A whispering that wakes the lambs from sleep
And in the hollows of their hearts will sear
His name, his name that echos like a drum
Reverberating kind benevolence
Ears once stopped once stupefied once dumb
Must shed the mufflers of insolence
And sear upon the ear’s own sounding board
The holy name Christ the shepherd good
And train the ear to grasp His voice and score
These whisperings stored up as heavenly food
Then deep within they hear the Shepherds call
Or else be left to wander, wither, fall.

Alma 5:15

Do ye exercise faith in the redemption of him who created you? Do you look forward with an eye of faith, and view this mortal body raised in immortality, and this corruption in incorruption, to stand before God to be judged according to the deeds which have been done in the mortal body?

Can you with honesty recount this day
In which your itching flesh did steal about
The carnal streets of life in which you play?
And in that frenzied dancing find but doubt
In He who made thy form to slither through
These littered streets of opportunity
To shed these weighty scales and doubt eschew
To trust in His redemption coming free?
Can you then with scale-less eye more clear
Perceive the deeper meaning of the itch?
Feel it soothed abetted in a smear
Of the Creator’s healing balmy pitch?
Can this same eye now see that frenzied dance
When hammer falls like you beneath His glance?

Alma 5:52
And again I say unto you, the Spirit saith: Behold, the is laid at the root of the tree; therefore every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be down and cast into the fire, yea, a fire which cannot be consumed, even an unquenchable fire. Behold, and remember, the Holy One hath spoken it.

Mark it that a voice from heaven warns
The ax the tree the image to inflame
The fruitless mind the fruitless life to shame
Reveal the barren soul but food for worms
Now see the flame with fangs bared out to feast
Now see that wooded though not fruited tree
An everlasting scorched sterility
Made house for seed again in flames that cease
Not even in the end. When time roles out
His parched and leathery tongue like carpet bags
Long stayed long baked beneath the long day’s sun
Not setting though the day is done. A sprout
May spring from heated charcoal then these fags
Mark the heavenly voice that says ‘it’s done’!

Alma 5:26
And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, if ye have experienced a of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the of redeeming love, I would ask, ye feel so now?

There was a song that once upon a day
Sang out a lovely tune upon your heart
A heart that felt vibrations pulse and sway
Resounding in its caverns every part
Beating out that chamber’s sour dis-chord
Beating in a kinder harmony
Setting free the chambers gated hoard
Of humming, purring, sweet felicity
That then within the violin did ring
That then within the piper’s pipe did tweet
That then within an angels’ chorus sing
Within these beating chamber walls so sweet
Has that sweet song now faded to a din?
A droning pandemonium within?

Memory Project cont.

2011-08-25T23:38:00.000-07:00

(Early March, 2011)

Memory as Honesty

What would if mean
If you told her you loved her
But could not recall it?

Can a lifetime of color
Be washed to dull-edgeless gray
In one bad day?

What demon shadow is this
That follows me always
But when I am alone?

I confess I have been untrue.
A heart decided knows
What it has said.

___

Memory as Motion

Mostly I remember the sweat
Of distaste
Of displeasure
Of dispute

Only I am robbed by the stuppor
Of inaction
Of indecision
Of hesitation

Truly I am trouble by the vacancy
Of momentum
Of connection
Of comprehension

Surely I am more than these:
Sweat
Stuppor
Vacancy

___

Memory from the deeper past

The harbor was green and singing then
Untouched
By an iron-clad foot.

It's waters teemed with life
Unfettered
By fear of discovery.

I ran about like a lunatic then
Moonstruck
Mindless of my place

In the order of things
Unfettered
By the bonds of awareness

The harbor and I sang together then
Calling out
The almost unseen dawn

Drawing out the darkness of the woods
Unfettered
By the obscurity and ignorance of night

Memory Continued

2011-07-27T19:40:00.000-07:00

June 24

Memory after forgetting

I forgot it was his birthday
For the first time
But remember many in-between.

There were simpler times
When a warm cup of joe
And four lines of poetry
On a frosty moonlit night
Were enough to fill us.

Now of necessity
We pursue money
Mountain tops
Stability.

And those simple times
Are cached like Rhodes Gold
A golden luster
To seek and find
In a different time.

----

I once forgot how to sleep
So busy counting sheep
Coming one by one
Like a rhythmic beating drum
Braying and Baaaeing
Coded messages relaying
Through the window--a sun beam
And then--I slip in to a dream

Memory Project cont.

2011-07-13T20:41:00.001-07:00

July 8

Memory as remembrance

The Book says
"Remember, Remember"
Because the author knows
That the reader soon forgets

Busy seeking countless pleasures
And relief from daily pressures
It is not easy to remember
The pain I'm longing to forget.

And yet
I find when my mind
Will relax and remind
Time--

Wherein the words
Of an oft read page
An oft spoken word
From a wisend sage
And the whisperings
Of the dead in their graves

Restore me
To Remembrance

________

Genetic Memory

When Grandpa finished his speech
He was red as a beet
Proud of the light
He had shed on his crowd
And yet on his brow
Hung a little gray cloud
Of self-doubt.

I know this man! I thought
For I saw in the speech
And the response of the crowd
And the doubt on the brow
Like a little grey cloud
But an echo
Of long ago
And presently--me.

Memory

2011-06-01T19:30:00.000-07:00

Memory as smell

I woke again today
For the first time
And caught a wiff
Of burning cedar wood
And remembered
All I had ever wanted
And thought it funny
That I should ever forget
Something so simple
_________

Memory as possession

You can't take it with you
That black Sierra Designs pull-over
The A5 on the trail to Gannett
2 wallets in 2 months--gone!
Thursday night's laughter
You can't take it with you
Unless...
You secure what is worth keeping
You remember the pain of forgetting
And the joy of a good thing relived
All things remembered are eternally possessed
Unless...
_________

Memory as joy and ritual

I remember her
Charged with my provocation
Fangs bared
Head wagging
Beneath the aggravated ruse
The shared joy
Of a lazy evening ritual
_________

Memory as appreciation

Is the fruit of appreciation
Long ripened
Freely shared
Abundantly consumed
A fixation on the silver lining
Of all things

Bothwell Bleak- Midwinter series

2010-02-06T23:16:00.000-08:00

Late January Sunset in Bothwell, Utah, west of Tremonton. The Bleak Mid-winter provides occasion to trudge through the unbroken snow for some shots.

MA in East Asian Literatures and Languages / Korean for Career Professionals / PPT Presentations...

2009-10-26T20:35:00.000-07:00

My diploma arrived in the mail today. So its official. I'm a Master of something--at least on paper. I feel like I've a long way to go with Korean yet, but then again, I've come a long way. Anyway, the best part is I can demand that people refer to me as Master Wiscombe now. wow, that has a nice ring to it.

Matters of the heart

2009-07-05T00:43:00.000-07:00

My Heart is a Bell Curve

My heart is a bell curve
Deep at its center
And Built for collecting

But it spins on its hinge
Lays waste to its content
And drips before filling again

My Heart is a Butterfly

My heart is a butterfly
Pearched on a snap-dragon
Ready to fly or be eaten

It flys when it can
And rests went it can’t
An flutters when smitten

Society!! Society!!!

2009-03-19T07:32:00.000-07:00

Alright. This is a bit lame but I'm feeling double guilt. One for neglecting my blog. And two for neglecting my promise (recently inspired by a friend) to go on a partial digital fast. This is just a copy paste email. But its one of the better email's I've written recently so I'm publishing it.

I was walking and in Korea there are like 500 people in visiible-motion at any given second. And most of them are in groups of four or five or ten. Some of the groups have minds of their own--some are oblivious. Like a giant comet from space--noisy, firey (having just eaten kimchi) and full of yes, I admit brilliant light. Ok I'm stretching this analogy a bit. Anywho when they decide to move in a group like that you just have to get out of the way. Sometimes they'll conglomerate right at the narrow entrance you have to pass through to be to work on time. 20 of them at the entrance of the subway--like giant clogged artery. And you are just a skinny blood cell trying to squeeze through the mayhem without inhaling too much second hand smoke. Half way down the stares the tsunami hits. 1 minute and 30 seconds ago, 200 feet down a morning train arrived and 800 people poured out of its train carts and have now made their way to the last staircase which you just happen to be going down. It's 800 to 1 here. Yeah, its like swimming against the current in a really big river. Ah! If only I had come 1 minute 30 seconds sooner. You might take an elbow or knee here and there but more than that just the rush of people makes your head spin. But you make it.

about a minute after you get down to the platform a train arrives--except this one is city bound and no one in its sardine packed carts gets off. You turn your back to the mob as the doors slide open and wriggle yourself into the heap butt first. The doors close and almost clip your nose. If only I was an Asian! The old woman behind you has her hand on your butt now but there is nothing either of you can do about it because there is no where to go. So you just turn on your i-pod and try to forget about it. You fall asleep standing up with grannys hand on your bum and dream of a bus in alaska--and you can smell the fresh air off the stream below. All is quiet. You run down to the steam for a quick dip and just as you're taking the plunge the doors to the subway open and without even moving your legs you're carried forward on a wave of people moving toward an escalator. If you don't run with the crowd you'll be trampled first and then wait in a five minute line to ride up. So you run, dodging grandmas and business men and breifcases. And you're thanking God you're still under 30 and can beat the crowd. You get to the top of the stares and turn around and look at the mass of people down below. You point your finger at them and yell take that Society!! Society!! Society!!!!!!!!

(*reference: call of the wild)

If You Love--Dance! 사람하면 춤을 추어라

2009-02-01T01:39:00.000-08:00

This was a riot of a production. It is full of all the same zest that is so common to the b-boyishness of Korean television and popular music but with a little more class. It the first (and likely last) time I've seen conception portrayed through dance. I took a while to figure out what was going on and ended with quite an aha! moment! It was also the first dancical I've ever been to = same as musical but less singing and more dance. To those of you living in Korea who follow this blog, it would make a great Valentines date. A real visual aphrodisiac. (don't worry its clean!)

Sung Wi

2009-01-31T06:17:00.000-08:00

幛: 정성 성, to give ones all
腧: 뜻 의, meaning or intention

Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell (+8.5)

2009-01-30T07:36:00.001-08:00

This proved to be infinitely interesting reading. Its sociology at its roots but the interface of the stories--and their application to the world we know, a world surprising more full of epidemics that I had ever considered, makes this very palatable sociology. The book is full of descriptions of the kind of people I know. They are the market and social mavens--the 20% that do 80% of the work--thanks to their charisma and their genius. Market mavens--those wonderful busy bodies like my sister that clip coupons and search four stores to track down the cheapest price are the primary regulators of consumer good pricing. Without them, artificial inflation would be rampant. (insight #1).

Next. The social connectors. My late mission President Carlson is one of these. A conversation at lunch with him would be something like this: Do you remember Jimmy's daughter Pam, Bro. Anderson? She used to date a man that came into our sales office frequently. His name was Charles. Charles sold by wooing. He'd always walk into the office with a crocodile smile and tell Janie at the desk how beautiful her hair was....names names names. People centered people connect us to 90% of the people we know! (insight #2)

Last. The golden number 150. A friend told me about this years ago--probably about the time this book his the market. We were talking about how our ward in Ogden was too big. With 250 students one always felt lost in the crowd. The secret number of successful social institutions is 150. Beyond that the benefits of social responsibility that grow naturally out of intimacy are lost. If you want to build a massive thriving business--keep it to groups less than 150. (insight #3)

What is hopeful though--and this is what I like best about the book--is that it doesn't end with simply analysis. Along the way is shows how average Joe's Jim's and Steve's can change the world as they know it. Like the good book says--a great vessel is guided my a small helm. This book gives practical insights on how by 'small and simple things are great things brought to pass."

Year Summary-- Best of Music, 2008

2008-12-30T18:19:00.000-08:00

January--Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, Somewhere Over the Rainbow
February--Ekolu, Ekolu Music. Warren G., I want it all. America, Ventura Highway
March--Ekolu, Honestly. Puressence, Don't Forget to Remember (and others)
April--Katch-a-fire. Love Letter, Skankin (and others)
May--MIKA, Big Girl, Grace Kelly (and others), Bob Marley, Wait in Vain
June--(Park Pop) Morgan Heritage, Raid Roots Dance. Neil Diamond, Coming to America
July--Cold Play, Viva la Vida. Travis, Re-offender.
August--Tracy Chapman, Fast Car. Jeff Buckley, Hallelujah.
September--님은 먼것에, 늦기전에
October--The Avett Brothers, Paranoia in B Major. Van Morisson, Stranded.
November--Alicia Keys, If I ain't got you. Estelle, American Boy.
December--리자, 인연. Paolo Nutini, New Shoes, Rewind. Marc Cohn, Walking in Memphis

Christmas Project 2008

2008-12-27T03:33:00.000-08:00

Seven years ago when a friend and I were proselytizing in the neighborhood just behind Korea's Blue House when bumped into a wiry old guy named Kim Ilyong. We spent about 10 minutes talking with him in the street and later visited him at his house which wasn't far from there. We learned he was an artist. His office was littered with scraps of ink-stained chart paper. The walls were just as cluttered--with his finished products--dozens of carefully drawn emblems, poems, songs, and Korean national declarations no doubt. I never anticipated that I'd ever go back to his place but this Christmas proved the occasion. Mr. Kim spent about 6hrs on a Sunday afternoon etching out these wall scrolls for the family. He let me dab the ink.

More creative work

2008-12-04T08:38:00.000-08:00

Dreality

To Dream is above all divine
Reality is too full of
Skunk spray
Weary baggy eyes
Cigarrette smoke
Weary ugly lies

Yet Reality will draw a line
Dreams are but fools of
Pungeance
Marrowed bones
Satience
Wind chime tones

On Rice and Opposition

2008-11-30T06:44:00.000-08:00

On Opposition

Like pressure cooked rice
I don’t like the intrusive steam
But if that’s what it takes to be edible
(or to realize some dream)
(or do something incredible)
I’ll suffer it thrice

making time for the finer things

2008-11-23T04:35:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since I've put the pen to the page. So this is long past due. I've been feeling a dearth of creativeness since I changed fields from English lit studies to geopolitics. But there is a lot to say about that conflicting world as well. More to come.

Near and Far

Far from the heart of all I have known
Far from its dry blue skies
Its familiar nights
Its rested mornings

Near to the heart that I have not known
Nor could know
At ease in familiarity
Easy in the rest of home

Tracktion

I ain’t getting no tracktion—
In all my action—
Who’s got the action plan man?
Can you pin the day to a post it?
Check off all ‘to do’s’ and boast it?
Can you both eat your turkey and roast it?
And still find time
To relax and recline?
If you can
That’s a real good plan
Man! Look at that Alpha man!
Tracktion

How’s he getting all that traction?
In every action?
How does he do it?
And he still stays so fluid?
Bouncing off street-side stumbling blocks
Picking up girls like wall street stocks
And shooting nines with campus jocks
And still finds a way
To save the day?
If you can
That’s a real good plan
Stan! The original Daoist Man!
Tracktion

Get yourself some—Tracktion

Putting on winters mufflers

2008-09-29T02:18:00.000-07:00

Winter is breathing down our necks here now. The locals say fall in Korea has been getting shorter. That's too bad because it's the best season here. The winds have started to pick up, the sky is clear blue, and the air is fresh and crisp. The local grasshoppers have been sneaking in our bathroom to stay warm at night. It's nice to have that small piece of nature close. With the oncoming cold I've instinctively started growing out my hair. I've got a nicer set of mufflers this year than I've had for years.

New pad in Anam-dong Seoul

2008-08-13T01:23:00.001-07:00

Living spaces in Korea are as hilly and small as I remember.

quote for the day

2008-08-05T07:41:00.000-07:00

"Work is love made visible" Kahlil Gibran

for Wondu, stepping back to Arsi

2008-07-27T01:55:00.000-07:00

Wondu...if you are looking at these, you've successfully followed the link. Now click on 'post a comment' and tell me what you think. Naguma! ('goodbye' right?)

In the Heart of Seoul

2008-07-24T01:19:00.000-07:00

I wrote a peom about this city a while ago. Now than I'm back it comes to mind again.

In Korea again
Back in the must of that sultry city
Back in the whiff of its kimchi-filled gutters
Fermenting the more
Back to the winter winds of Siberia
Brushing down city-street funnels
With no where else to go
Biting a long European nose
Two wickets in the middle of so much noise
Hello sir, are you in peace?
Busy
Hello sir, have you ever seen this book?
Go somewhere else
Are you in peace?
Ahh, Veywe goo Koereea.
Fighting the cold out of our knuckles
With morning study
With desire to fill up the time
Between breakfast and dwenjjang with love
Shall we try some hymns?
Then the story comes out.
We move to France for a moment
Where the brother used to sing hymns
Where the people’s hearts seemed colder
Than a Siberian winter
There they would find a missing link
In the warmth of those sacred notes.
The notes, on key and off, resonated
Resonated like a revolution waiting to break
Resonance is the magic of the moment
At a five-way interchange in downtown Seoul
Two wickets with a quiet, abiding resonance
In the middle of so much noise.

remnants and rembrants of europe

2008-07-24T00:38:00.000-07:00

yeah, its taken me a while to get this post up but for what its worth these are the top six photo's of the trip per country--one for each. europe certainly had its virtues--its own jewels and gem and it certainly shines more than Seoul in the summer but that's probably just a bad comparison altogether.

conclusions and things we (aubri and i) learned: one month is not enough. (never is when you travel). the eurail pass is only worth it if you cheat the system by not reserving a seat. (perhaps they account for this when the attach the price). Couch surfing is the best way to travel--we met really amazing people and stayed for free in their homes. (but keep it a secret please--if CS keeps growing the way it has been the site is going to crash and then their will be a lot of homeless travelers.) the Notre Dame offers free wifi. Italian food is good everywhere you just get more of it in germany (same is true of the ice-gellato). Not even rome is pleasant when the temp is 106˚. Paris is pretty to look at, much more so than London but neither have the zip nor zest of Amsterdam. Florence and Rome fall into a different category. King Louis was brilliant (Aubri disagrees on this one). If you were to take all of the thousands of flat-screen tv's, beamers, living room tile and ceiling plaster, the cheap reprints and amenities etc. of middle class living and put all those people in grass huts and put then to work in stone, glass, and gardening--well then our generation could have something really amazing and lasting to leave for our children--a 21st century Verseillies. Instead it all goes to the landfill. The Ufiitzi in Florence probably speaks great depth to the art history major but for me the Rijiks and Van Gogh museums in Amsterdam were the best. Rembrant's clarity and contrast convey a real depth of talent but nothing slapped me in the face with the emotional tug like Van Gogh's 'potatoe eaters' and 'crows'. Michelangelo's Pieta was breathtaking. Its a shame they have to keep it behind the plastic wall. If you are a Mormon you should know about Zolichfen even if you've never heard of Bern or Geneva. Toblerone sells a 10kilo chocholate bar. The coolest single place was stonehenge--tragically so. Its got fences and ropes a busy freeway running past and they want $16 for to just walk up to the rope. From the free dirt road 100 yards off the stones are much smaller but its quite, tourist free and out there across the rolling wheatgrass feilds, when the sun sets and shines on the stones the soul of the place comes alive. We were told they let crazy enthusiasts in on the summer and winter solstice for sunrise--and then you can actually touch the rocks. Perhaps we'll have to go back.

software

2008-04-09T01:47:00.000-07:00

i'm just rolling out of bed at 12:30. can't afford this. not any more. the light on the banyon tree outside is already high and dull. the morning winds have died to a lull. why do they trim that grass so much. i'll just have to ignore it. there are bigger fish to fry today and class starts in an hour. the longest class of the week. 합반. 난 왜이래...기운이 왜없을까...부분적으로...well that's a good sign. I'm thinking in korean more. miles to go before I sleep though. and i just got up. maybe those smoothies aren't helping. she said not to drink cold stuff. makes sense really. all the cold soaking up all the heat in the pit of the stomach. some pepperment oil should help. and that toe. more filing and more tea-tree oil. can't expect things so bad to get well in a day or after just one application. it took years to get that way. i've got to be willing to wait it out--see it out to the end. that's that kind of fasting Isaiah ment in 58. breaking from food was layer one. though i need to do that too. haven't done that in a while. well theres only room for so much. what was all that about josh and i moving that fridge around. dreams. all night moving a fridge. no wonder i'm still exhausted. and didn't in end with the fridge in the same place it started. yikes. only up to minutes and already its throbbing. enough thinking. be don't think. give those wires a break. hot water. that's what i need. and some bob marley too. i don't want to wait in vain. knock knock knock. 'and I still can knock some more'. yeah i need to knock more. 6 more months gone and i haven't knocked on any doors. cute enough girls here. byron's right. 'in time' doesn't mean 'in eternity'. and the Lord won't move a parked car. oh old joe. he was right. and he's in fifth gear now with marilyn. alright. enough of the should dos. got to stop shoulding myself. class in just less than an hour. hot water and then get to it.

the miracle of gl

2008-04-04T03:30:00.000-07:00

It occured to me yesterday during and acupucture appointement that the words we use to describe what we feel are surprisingly limited. After twenty minutes of free-flowing gi it wasn't peace or tranquility or sublimity. It was like something in a song. Like I was feeling tamberine. Maybe borrowing from the world of music could help us hit home a little closer to what we feel. Some days are too full of trumpet. Some moments to heavy on the bass.

Easter Poem

2008-04-02T02:03:00.000-07:00

On Easter

Sad face faceted to a wall she sings
Of bitter-sweet memories the things she brings
The things she brings so long and tall
Faceted with her to that self-same wall

The wall within has unseen cracks
That yielded to a thousand backs
Upon the day of spring will glide
To glorious heaven in glorious chariot ride

The chariots wheels are bright on fire
With faith that’s bought with hands in mire
The spinning flame will catch the gaze of all
Who are faceted with doubts upon the wall

The wall will break in one mighty blow
When the trumpets blare their hope to sow
And crumble down to dust in wondrous heap
Setting free the limbs of those that sleep

When those that sleep with watery eyes
Fall to their knees to see the skies
Will sing in round eternal voice
And vengeance from the grave rejoice

The things she brings within in her stay
And will not falter, fracture, fray
The wall without hence broken up
Can-not, will-not fill her cup

The body light now moving free
Marrowed, boned, skinned entity
Without she moves in visual grace
Within she hides an haggard face

Face faceted to a callous wall
Face feeling, failing in bitter gall
Bellows out a melody
That puts without within—mercy!

And then a second time the wall
Will fracture, tumble, crash and fall
Bright chariot wheels will flash the sky
And by the rounds reflect her eye.

Twice He was crossed to heal her face
Without, within, twice healed by grace.

Buddha's Joy revisited

2008-02-21T01:13:00.000-08:00

I think I may have found one of the reasons for last summers out-raged californians. We have Mitt Romney to blame. http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1638065,00.html. This was just a week and a bit before our incident. And yeah, we were sporting Utah plates.

The Homing Turtle

2007-12-16T00:49:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to figure this one out. Another mystery to unravel. Last summer while Dad was passing through Missouri he picked up a turtle that was, as the time trying to cross the freeway. He'd already seen a few that had been hit and didn't want this one to suffer the same fate. So he put it in the little mini fridge in the hatch of the truck and brought it home to Utah with him. The grandkids in particular were thrilled. We weren't sure how well the turtle would do in Utah's climate or if he'd find food but we trusted it to its own instincts and let it go in our back yard.

The turtle was gone within a day and for a couple weeks we forgot about it. Then, one day one of our neighbors came knocking. "I just saw this trying to cross the road and just about hit it. Is this your turtle by chance?" Mom said it was and asked how our neighbor knew. She said she just 'figured'. We were happy to have the turtle back but still had no place to contain him. Dad at one point suggested that we drill a small hole in the shell and keep him on a leash--something he'd seen a family do down south. But we all agreed we should just let it go again in the back yard. The little guy still looked healthy and thats all we could really hope for him. Twiced discovered in the road, once returned.

We wouldn't have thought a thing about this slightly peculiar return except that the very same thing happen five more times within the next six weeks. Each time someone in our neighborhood brought the turtle back saying, 'we found it trying to cross the road and thought it might be yours.' Yeah, it started to creep us out just a bit. I had noticed the first time I saw the turtle that it had quite outstanding red eyes. After six weeks of this lost and found process the poor little buggers eyes just seemed to be screeming 'let me go!' The last guy to return the turtle was not even a local. He was just passing through on a visit and saw the turtle crossing the road. Ours wasn't even the closest house but that's where he came. We I asked him why he said, "I just thought this might be the place."

After several failed attempts to think up a sensible conspiracy theory I've concluded that sometimes weird things just happen. Its been four months since anyone has seen the turtle and we are hoping he's faring well in Utah's winter. Maybe we'll see him again next summer.

Semester in Hawaii

2007-12-14T22:27:00.000-08:00

I've finished the first semester of what has been a very difficult Korean studies program so for. The final presentation was yesterday. I spoke for 35 minutes about Koreas most esteemed and most controversial President--a guy named Pak Jung Hee. I never would have guessed two years ago when I was pouring over Shakespeare and Browning that I could take such an interest in a person that is so obscure to the western world and all that I know and am familiar with. But it has been good. I feel good about the fruits of the semester and have few days now before returning to the land of ice and snow to soak in the sun on the beaches. My roomate and I took a beating today in the 10 ft waves at Maka Pu'u on the east shore. It's thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

For the first time in the season I'm actually thinking about Christmas. Funny, yet understandable, I'm really looking forward to the snow and cold weather. It's not Christmas without it. I hear Bing Crosby singing on the radio here and look out and see only blue skys and palm trees and have to laugh.

The Spiral Jetty

2007-08-08T20:19:00.000-07:00

Some friends and I took, what for me, was a second trip to the sprial jetty the sunday before last. It occured to me that Robert Smithson's idea is working, so far as the jetty goes. I guess he has some eight or nine of what he called, 'earthworks' spread out in different places from Rome to Manhattan to Texas. The idea of getting people to come to unusual places in nature, i think, is a good one. Because, I would normally probably stop at the golden spike monument if I even got that far. The jetty is not an easy visit. From Korin it takes about 30 minutes to get to golden spike and from there it is 23 miles of dirt road to the north rim of the salk lake where the jetty is located.

Both times I've been there, I haven't been alone. by that I mean our group hasn't been exclusive. Other people were there to check it out. The jetty itself is impressive but not nearly so as the north rim of the lake. Out their where the saltwater meets the basalt rock from the ridges behind, you feel like you're on the moon or better than the moon. I don't know that ethereal or extraterrestrial describes it either. It's almost--holy. Gazing across the lake it's difficult to tell where earth ends and heaven begins. It's liminal space at its best.

ps. All those in favor of straitening the jetty please leave your comments in the affirmative here.

Buddha's Joy

2007-07-08T22:27:00.000-07:00

My sister, brother and I were returning from a 4th of July trip to Afton Wyoming this weekend when we encountered some rather rude Californians. We were moving along nicely in our 81' beater truck when they started flashing their lights and waving a cell phone at us hysterically. We pulled over to find out what the issue was and the lady in the passenger seat sprung out and threatened to call the **#*$$*% police if we didn't put the **#*$(#( dog in the cab. Her husband was echoing her every word from the driver's seat of their white SUV.

Buddha, our pet dog of six years was up on top of all the camping stuff with his nose to the wind. From inside the cab we were taking pictures of him because he looked pretty comical with his ears flapping in the wind. In some ways, it was Buddha at his best. He was taking in the sights, sounds and smells with a lively curiosity. He was happy surfing the rain clean air of Star Valley. Enter crazy animal rights activists.

We were incredulous at first. We couldn't understand why they were so upset. We assured them that the dog would be fine and kept driving. Much to their chagrin. I can only imagine what conversation they had with the local police but at some point they must have realized that they weren't getting any help. So they decided to follow us and for the next 150 miles they repeatedly passed us and then fell behind as the woman in the passenger seat took pictures. We smiled and waved--being both amused and annoyed by such eccentric behavior. I can only imagine how useless those pictures will be to her when she files her complaint with the ESPCA.

So, Mr. and Mrs. Supersensitive to Dog Rights, if you ever read this, please remember that in most cases people should get at least as much respect as animals. And rest assured that Buddha is safely and happily home.

Life Escalated

2007-06-18T21:11:00.000-07:00

I have found my new favorite place in Utah. Zions aside, the vistas of the small piece of the Grand Starcase of Escalante that I saw more than reminded me of why Utah will always be home. I loved the duluges, rich earth, and acacia of the rift valley in Ethiopia. Between Seoul and DC I learned to appreciate the city scape. And the high rugged mountains of the Uintah's and the Wind River range are grand beyond measure. But I've never seen a landscape that seemed so teeming with life as I saw in Escalante.

It had its share of annoyances. Nat bites heal slower than meskitoes and the nats were everywhere. I also had a few scary encounters with rattlesnakes and changed my mind about sleeping out under that stars. But even the annoyances were part of what made the land so entriguing. During the three mile hike towards Neon, every step off the trail was like a miniture pit-fall that reveled a network of burrows where the desert wild-life found refuge from the sun. In the canyons we encountered frogs and crows, catterpillers and stinkbugs, and dancing daddy-long-leg spiders without number. There in the damp cool shadows the spiders gather by the hundreds and bounce on the rock rythmically, as though they are gathering life force from the rock.

The green moss the hugs the canyon walls in selective places is apparently where the canyon 'Neon' gets its name. The colors are electric like the spiders. It's as though they are plugged in to something. The pictures won't show as much as the living landscape but I've posted a few anyway.

It was a first rate trip. Hope to return again soon.

More muse

2007-06-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

June 17, 2007
I Am

I am bright and dangerous
As an open hearth
I am the flower the smiles
At day dawns blaze
I am flaming crimson dot
Rooted in a pot
I am a local craze
With no sense of miles
I am, inside, the earth
Yet, I can’t remember birth

Am I

Am I the rippling wave
In the eternal sea?
Am I the drop
That fills the cup?
Am I the feather
That weathers all weather?
Am I the space
In every up?
Am I eternal Me
In the liquid sea?

June 17, 2007
Will I

Will I fall in love some day
With some damsel far away?
Will I set a nation free
Receive a staff and split the sea?
Will I walk all continents
Find in those climes new sentiments?
Will I take some clay in hand
Center it and make a man?
Will I frown and make a storm
When those clouds are mine to form?
Will I know what is to be
In stretching eternity?

I Will

I will accost the dark unknown
Till life snaps back and time is blown
I will build a shelter here
To weather every chaffing tear
I will learn some human art
And with it build in human hearts
I will come and love the land
That offers up itself to man
I will receive my given star
And loose some band, untie some bar
I will fall for love someday
That love forever in me stay.

Some recent creations

2007-06-13T11:01:00.000-07:00

The Word (2007, 06, 08)

When the word
Springs from its ink on the page
And lights my mind with its cadence
I bend to it
And like the low hanging branches
Of a willow
I weep to be so free from stillness
And silence
And thank the Wind and Word
That made me move

Willard Landscape
May, 2007

Life lives in the lemmings of the shoreline.
They kick up the wind
Letting it lick their feathers
Getting nothing but kicks in its rush

Me too
I am made anew
In the breath of this saline air
Care slides as my soul rides
In green, in wet, in sunburst flare.

On the Art of Jesting
June 8, 2007

If the jesting makes the jester
And the jester makes the jest
What without the fester
Of the jesting jester
Who then would make the rest?

And what of a resting jester
Who never makes a jest
Then without jesting
The resting jester
Is nothing but a pest.

The Ghosts of Sand Hollow

2007-06-04T17:14:00.001-07:00

When the wind starts licking up the loose red sand in the Hollow, more than ancient relics start to speak. The Ghosts of the Piiute show their auburn visage before the sun and behind the sand. I worked for just 12 days on the dig with BYU's OPA (office of public archeology). Just long enough to know that I wouldn't make a very good archeologist. I was good with the shovel and the sand screen and I enjoyed learning the technical names of ancient indian tools like mataties and bi-faces. We found hundreds of fragments of Anasazi pottery and made pedestools of the stones that some how, tell the story of where these people lived and how. I even came home with some of the expendible lithics and pieces of pottery for my personal collection.

The OPA is taking a 5% sample of the land before it is permanently burried under green turf. Sand Hollow will be one of St. George's largest and ritziest golf courses by the end of the summer. Developer's don't like the idea of having to fund projects like the one OPA is doing now but I can appreciate the law that requires them to fund it. Archeologists have it kind of tough. Not very many people are too interested in funding a dig. It's bad business. There is no monetary return on lithics. Ebay? Maybe. But most serious scientists would say that's a bad joke.

Every few days, the forman of the development project would pay us a visit on his fancy hummer made dune-buggy. He always had a perplexed look on his face--like what in the h are these idots hoping to find. We showed him some of the more impressive stuff and his look was smirky at best. I wonder at his reaction if we had told him that we stummbled upon a find of finds--a large chest full of ancient golden Piiute golf balls. But, I could understand his frustration too. Based on my salary, the number of co-workers, and the six months time estimated to finish the project I figured it would cost the developers $250,000 out of pocket. Then again that's a pitance to what they'll make in the next five years even. The setting is grand and will attract golfers for years.

Du the Du

2007-04-23T20:52:00.000-07:00

My sister, a couple of brothers and myself all crossed the finish line at the annual Buffalo Duathlon on April 15. We did the "sprint" which was a 5k run and a 20k bike ride. It was more challenging than I expected. The event was held at Antelope Island. It was my first visit. I saw no antelopes and no evidence of the famed buffalo heards that make a home on the island. And it definitely was not because I was moving too fast. One of the quasi good things they did was right the age of every participant on the back side of their calf. So you could see the age of all the penta, hexa, and septi -geriatricts passing you on the way. I knew I should have drunk more Red Bull. We hope to make it an annual family affair.

Death of a Dinsdale

2007-03-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

Grandma's brother's funeral was Monday of this week. It was only the second I have ever attended. Pat was the second of grandm's two brother's to die. She and her baby sister 'Babe' are the surviving members of the original family. Grandma passed the funeral with marked courage though she was obviously troubled by concern for Pat's 'eternal reward'. Pat was a smoker, drinker, and spoke with the harshness characteristic of a Montana farmer. In Grandma's book, that's grounds for eternal punishment.

Cleer Creek Cemetary is the resting place of most of our Dinsdale relatives and their family. There are maybe 50 head-stones total in the plot that is about a two acre square. It sits on a bluff outside of Red-Lodge about 10 miles. To the south and the west the Bear-Tooth mountains rise abruptly and magestically out of a plain of golden rolling hills. The setting is ideal as a resting place for the dead.

February Climb

2007-02-21T22:31:00.000-08:00

I met up with Dave Clawson, an old climbing buddy today for some climbing at Ogden's schoolroom. School--room is right. After months of winter lethargy I got burned out on the 5.8 approach. The views of Ogden City and Antelope island, as always, were marvelous.

About two years ago this time we were at roughly the same place with another friend. A party of three. But the temperature was in the mid-30's and the rock super cold. It was cold enough to inspire this poem, which I wrote that night when we were done. Happily it was in the mid 50's today.

Climbing in December

A distant billow of white
Hugs tight the rim of a distant shallow shore
A mass of condensation condecending
In the gathering cold of night.

The rock sucks up a deep orange glow
The last blow from that too far southern sun
All day, the light is cold, the shadows colder
Making our blood to slow

The rock is too deep to give
Any give except gravity's weight upon it's shoulder
A fist sized chunk, latent then falling
Into a boulder-field siv.

Blood runs easy in the open air
Bright-red flair oosing from a purple knuckle
A numbing prick and a gathering prickling
Pleading the heart its warmth to share

The December ascent--an erksome delight
At the onslought of night, I cannot but question
The worth of the climb and the climbing
And then...the distant billow of white.

Day One

2007-02-20T17:38:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday which means today is 'fat Tuesday.' I celebrated by running three miles. I made it throught the whole day without seeing a single string of beads. Then again, I'm living in Tremonton. My politically correct calender doesn't even acknowledge the holiday and I had to double check on wikipedia to ensure that it is indeed the day we 'fill our canteens' before the fast.

My first entry on this blog. "Robas Decent" is no longer available on eponym.com so I thought resurrecting the blog with a new name--one accurate to the intent--would be good.