For the betterment of the world.
It stands me in the rubble
back to the cliff wall
over the deep wide vista
of crumbling turrets and spires on
hundred’s feet high towers
with the frozenness of a rabbit
caught in the headlights
straining to lift
the suddenly heavy camera
to my eye and shoot
a hundred amazing images
that I could barely take in
until vertigo
sets my eyes robotically
on the narrow path
up the mountain side,
hiding the whole world
and the falling down through space,
behind me.
God i resent it.
A long lean room
bound by an unclad red brick wall
and a smoothly painted plaster board
wall with hanging art and plants
and advertising coffee and food,
was a short step of relief
off the broad street and footpaths.
The summer sun and humidity
climbed with the circuitous
walk through the panhandlers
and the fast movers out of the 125
subway stop to the Markus Garvey park,
up the small hill and back
to the Malcolm X boulevard
towards Central Park.
The crowd thinned to a
few retailers sitting under
apartment buildings.
In Il Caffe Latte pairs of white people
took coffee and brunch.
Two black women ran the kitchen.
A young white man served patrons.
Jazz played quietly thru speakers –
Miles, Coleman and others.
A black man came in, ordered coffee to go.
I wondered if he was busy
or whether I / we left a bad impression.
A white young yuppie type
came in, ordered coffees and
rushed out.
He had ginger hair.
I didn’t care what he thought.
Down the road
outside Harlem Coffee Co,
two young black yuppie types
stretched their legs at the sidewalk
table, drinking lattes at ease.
My USA trip was a real zinger.
Coming on the beginnings of a new relationship with a generous, caring, successful, playful and creative woman, conferences, courses, projects, visiting with my son, and chilling out, was interspersed with lengthy viber or skype conversations that were flirty, jokey, intellectual, dissonant, honest, vulnerable, happy, and teary.
The Landmark Global Transformation conference, my entry event in San Fransisco, rode on the theme of ‘Wonder’. One of my all time favourite topics, wonder would anchor the whole trip and come back, specifically, again during the Alba Emot Course in Asheville, North Carolina, a couple of weeks later.
Although Global Transformations took the ‘Wonder’ theme, it was a wondering about leadership that took my ear. Gladly, presenters I had met a couple of year ago, facilitated a couple of beautiful engaging structural movement communication work. I attended those sessions for my work in dance and it gave me another access to my hearing on leadership. Initially that hearing on leadership was all about what I need to be a leader of my rEvolve project. As my trip comes to a conclusion, that has transformed into rEvolve being the possibility of a leadership training program, ‘Moving into Leadership’.
The idea of moving into leadership is a more clear consolidation of the work I am doing around sustainability and climate change, men’s culture, and dance, into an integrated work, a leadership training program.
From San Fransisco, I flew over to Denver, Colorado, for a few days, to catch up with my friends in Art as Action. Staying at an Air BNB nearby, I was able to ride a hire bike into the city, and even on the light rail to Jefferson County where I could ride to hiking paths. As with my previous experience in that part, life at one mile high can make the legs ache in bike riding unusually earlier than at my home altitude in Australia of half a mile. I learnt how to use Lyft.
It seemed that each time the past two years I’ve seen my friends in Art as Action they have been grieving over the loss of a loved one. Last year the grandfather of the director had passed away. This year one of their music/dance colleagues and his partner were killed in a car accident. I want to make some bigger sense of this coincidence. It only mattered that I could be some community of listening around the grief. Sarah Leversee welcomed me into her Reconnect Class based on Dance for PD and it was wonderful to see the liveliness of that ‘older’ dance class.
It was a special treat to spend a few hours over lunch with Wayne Gilbert, performance poet, retired literature teacher, and recent (having Parkinson’s Disease) dance performer with Art as Action. Wayne is a volunteer poetry teacher to the State prison to the north of Denver. His experience of the attraction of poetry to some hard men, has been profound. At one of his earliest classes, having delivered a poem on Parkinson’s Disease, he was astounded that a hand immediately shot up. The owner said, “Yeh, I get that poem. It’s like how I feel about being in this prison.” I find myself amazed by the nature of the human being around their limiting circumstances, their authentic relationship with those limitations, the access they find to some expansion of those circumstances and they contributions they choose to make, nonetheless. There is some inspiration there, for all of us, and I store that idea away for a way to provide access to that inspiration for everyone.
It was great to spend a week chillin’ at my son’s place in Riverside, California. We had a number of social outings together including a Baha’i meeting. We played an hour of table tennis every night. I got a little heat stroke doing a hike in the desert hills at the back of his place, and the effects of that took quite a few days to remedy, reminding me, among other things, that I’m not as young as I used to be. It was lovely to spend a sedate four hours with my son in the UCR library while he played with an assignment for his masters degree in social work. Sometimes I think I should be in conversation with my son, seeing that we can’t see each other much across the seas, but I profess one of my greatest joys is just to be in proximity.
The next phase of my travel was to spend a few days with Sue Blythe on the Sustainable Farm, Hampton, Gainesville, Florida, around her Future Flash Climate Change Project. Sue’s work has expanded to engage commitments from some fabulous environmental players in Florida, including the manager of the ‘Sustainable Floridians’ volunteer training program out of Florida University, Lanny the Earthman, Actor Jan Booher, and Dave Room San Fransisco based creator of Pacha’s Pyjamas. As I write this I’ve just finished a Skype conversation with Dave Room, opening the way for his work to find expression for children environmental education in Australia.
From Gainesvile to Asheville to the Alba Emot course with Laura Bond. What a fantastic 9 days, learning and training in primary emotional expression, Feldenkrais movement, and exploring related experiments in life story, text, voice and dance with an extraordinary teaching team. So much to bring back to my dance and theatre work but also into the possibility of leadership training.
And so, this week another chill out and exercise at my son’s place in California. It’s a hot summer week in the desert, 113 F early in the week. Time to meditate, play with movement training (God I need it), and have dozens of small conversations with him around his life. He became an American citizen while I’ve been here. Looks like another feather in his global citizen’s cap.
Two nights ago I woke in sadness. My time here is slipping away. Today, I’m prepared for a great weekend with my son, at the beach, in LA. It is time to go home.
We heard our name called out
from the boarding desk.
Standing around, talking,
we nearly missed our flight out of Cairns.
In Brisbane we caught our flight
in a timely fashion,
not a moment to spare.
15 hours and 5 movies later,
we queued in a customs snake.
Behind us by a few,
a girl with a puppy dog tic
brought the officers to alert,
running to inspect
for illegal importation of a dog.
Her sister had to explain loudly.
We hoped she wasn’t too embarrassed.
Finally, joyfully, we saw
Nathan and Danielle
had risen early, early, on a
cold, rainy day LA,
bringing to my mind the song
“It never rains in Southern California”
forgetting that the following line of the song is
“but it pours..”
That night we slept deeply
in exhaustion
waking with Danielle’s loud telephone voice.
M’God, it’s 10:30
No plans.
Danielle went to a class at St Benardino University
We went with her.
To a fabulous little art museum
showing exciting colourful, evocative works,
a Buddha plasticine sculpture activity,
then prowled the campus.
As evening fell
Soroor and Danielle organised
a visit to Nathan’s work
to meet a cheerful team of
Evelyn, Gustavo, Kristine, Patty, Ron.
Dinner at the Olive Garden.
Tues Day 3 Soroor ran to catch a bus
while I hobbled on knees
that seemed to have died on the flight over.
We took the bus to the other end of Riverside
to Galleria on Tyler.
Soroor noticed “You’re a minority on this bus”,
in a smug, I’m feeling quite comfortable, voice.
And Tigga went “Sigh, I hadn’t noticed”
At Galleria we over-ate for one.
Our bus trip back was planned meticulously.
Spending time looking around the Mission Inn,
then coffee,
and missed the bus.
Soroor borrowed a phone.
We caught the next one.
Dressed up and experienced
a nocturnal freeway drive
to the Baha’i Feast in Corona
Wednes Day four Nathan takes work for the Thanksgiving weekend
Took a drive
California State orange orchard / Lake Marshall / Chipalettos
Dropping in on Nathan’s boss, Linda
Soroor is relaxed and secure,
everyone loves her baby.
Another freeway ride
to Murrietta
Jazzae played Basketball
we cheered.
She shot, she scored.
we cheered.
We went on to
Tash and Afshin’s
for Thanksgiving.
Thurs Day five I got up a dawn
as the Arneson family rose
to prepare Thanksgiving repast.
The turkey took a basting.
I stepped in as Tash’ stunt arm.
Drank coffee, distracted the children
looking for Thanksgiving songs with the IPad,
peered at Tash’ nicnacks
more guests arrived,
we ate and talked,
sang a Slim Dusty song,
and late, drove the freeway back to east riverside.
Fri Day six slowly offered the possibility of
a trip to a wholesaler.
I took a hike on the hill nearby,
surprised at the sponginess of the grass and soil,
and the steepness and openness of the slope,
reminding me I am scared of falling from heights.
I hiked down.
We got back on the freeway
to Corona to study
a Baha’i course, RuhiBk8, with a local group
Satur Day seven saw a tour
of the UCR botanical Garden
that has cacti, rocks, and a view of the suburb.
Soroor and Danielle cooked dinner
for her family and later enjoyed
the Riverside Christmas Lights display.
Sun Day eight a longer excursion to
Newport beach and a Kebab & Persian shop.
Staying awake to attend a commemoration,
the Ascension Abdu’l-Baha’
in San Marino.
Mon Day nine we caught the bus
on time to Las Vegas.
Booking in to the 26th floor of the Luxor,
a pyramid of rooms,
with quarter wall corridors,
looking down into the foyer,
reminding me
that I am very scared of falling from heights.
Soroor leans over the balcony to get a good view.
Prowling the lights,
hungrily we stopped at a grill
where the food was quite boring and the sport TV very loud.
Walking on we came across
our first delight
the Bellagio fountains.
Diving in and out every hotel we came,
we learnt that dodging show spruikers
was part of the Las Vegas game.
Tues Day ten began with brunch in Denney’s
– yippee –
And then we walked the strip
for hours,
deciding that Caesar’s Palace is número uno
and back to the hotel next to our hotel
the Mandalay to see
“The Lion King”
– so grand, so fantastically enjoyable –
Sweet Crepes became a late dinner.
Wednes day eleven straight to Denney’s for breakfast
Walked more of the strip
Costumed buskers – Kandy Floss, Transformers, Elvis, Mickey, Garfield, Willy Wonker,
Club spruikers, Moving billboards selling girls
Treasur Island, Wynns, Palazzo, Venetian
it goes on.
We hit a large buffet for lundinner
Then to the
Phantom of the Opera
at the Venetian.
As if to set the mood, the evening turned very cold and windy.
It was mindboggling.
The chandeliers flew around the ceiling,
and fell.
Reminding Soroor in a scream
that she is scared of things falling on her.
Thurs Day twelve we slpt in to check out
Breakfast at MacDonald’s inside the Luxor.
Bus back to cold, cold,
Fremont st, the original casino area of LA
Bus back to Riverside
The traffic inbound to Las Vegas,
a sight to behold.
At Barstow in the desert,
we got out of the bus for a break.
We missed the Bus.
It left without us.
Taking our bags, iPad, and camera.
“There are no more greyhounds ’till tomorrow”, says the greyhound ticketer,
who sent a message to riverside bus depot
that Danielle would meet it and get our bags.
We caught an American Lion to Colton
Danielle and Nathan did the circuit
picking bags, then us up
and fed us Curry.
Fri Day thirteen we went shopping
Sorted photos,
Watched wedding video of Kelsey and Nathan
Went back to study Ruhi Bk 8
At Burritos at Albertos
-a must for all food adventurers-
Satur Day fourteen got up slowly
Bags all packed
Took the freeway to Hollywood
walked head down,
dodging spruikers in costumes,
checking out the stars on the footpath
and the handprints
at Sid’s Chinese Theatre.
Lunched on the roof
Soroor searched for souvenirs
Sun already going down
Found our way to the Getty Museum
amazingly sitting on a rock overlooking LA
Millions of dollars of art
reminding me I am scared of falling from heights.
Soroor fell down
on a marbled floor.
Plenty of time to catch our flight for a midnight departure,
Burritos near Venice beach
then to the airport by 9:45
“Wait by the phone,” we joke with Danielle and Nathan “in case we miss the plane”.
“Check in is quiet”, noticed Soroor to the lone check in guy.
“Because the flight is about to close”, he chastises.
“What!” we exclaimed, “for a midnight flight?”
“It leaves at 10:45, maam”, he replies boredly.
We keep it straight.
Later, we giggle a lot.
Couldn’t wait to tell Danielle.
Three movies and a some deep sleep to Brisbane,
we had breakfast with Kels, Sep, Reubs.
The prices are outrageous.
We have a ‘free’ day from the organised pilgrimage. My wife has a nephew who is an agronomist doing volunteer work on the gardens. He is a talented lad who speaks French (country tongue), Parsi (mother tongue), English(cousin tongue), and Spanish (holiday tongue). He is also very cheerful. We decided to meet him and go for a walking tour of Akka. It surprised me that it really only took a couple of hours strolling and sightseeing to get around the old walled city. Many of the places we knew from Baha’i history but I was intrigued to see a ‘crusader’s tunnel’ – an escape tunnel from near the mediterranean sea wall to the inner town.
We had late lunch at a very crowded restaurant which we had gotten to through the Akka market. The market was so crowded that it was like being squeezed along for about 15 minutes.
As evening fell, we took a taxi over to Bahji to pray in the Shrine of Baha’u’llah. Many of the pilgrims took the opportunity to be there as well as there were late buses organised to get us back to Haifa.
Owen's Meanderings 