Bunkers, Bricks, and Trails

I feel that I owe this blog big time. I remember feeling upset whenever I go to Jonatha Brooke's site and not find any new journal entries....and now I am riding on guilt over how I have been treating this one...so I want to make ammends.

Today marks the first week of working for my new employer, and it was a busy one. I was in an offsite training for two days this week at Mountain View, and the other three days was getting plugged-in at the office, with projects, and just plain getting to know people. I've had to reorient myself with the Redwood Shores area again, and I have to admit it felt a little weird working in Oracle's backyard.

I was on the Mahjong table all week, too. My friends and I have all caught the bug on this game and we just love it (no, we don't play for money.....not yet anyway). My mom had also recently become really amused at this game lately, too, so I've played with her as well. Playing Mahjong is like playing Poker (which I also like....thanks to the Travel Channel's WPT tournament coverage) as you try play the players and your hand.

Yesterday we went on the bike trail at Lake Chabot. We really didn't know what to expect and had some rather funny surprises....yes, it was harder than we could manage so we had to turn back at some point. But it was fun and with other turns and possible paths, I don't see why we wouldn't come back again someday.

So finally I've reached Sunday and hopefully I'll get to do a lot of housekeeping....including my online ones....like this blog.....peace, ok?

Last Day of Work in the City

This is my last day work in the city.

I loved working in the city....riding BART and reading the San Francisco Chronicle cover to cover, I' discovered so much beyond the sports and business sections :)...read about wine, local news, and even home & garden :)

I will miss working in the city
I will miss the noise
I will miss the walks
I will miss the time that passes ever so differently

goodbye.

First Time at IRL

It sounded like a swarm of a thousand fold...it was my first time to witness a live open wheel racing event. The photo on the left is my brother, Jun, who went with me as my guest (two free tickets from our dear benefactor: Marlboro :) ).

One of the highlights of this race, of course, was to see Danica...and it was great...for all the few minites it was worth (she was involved in an accident in the early laps and had to retire early). A lot of people were heartbroken to see her depart the race...I could look in any direction and see people exclaiming to each other: "...so what do we do now?!..."....a quiet exodus of people followed (not massive, but noticable).

The lady who was sitting next to me immediately left. I can just remember each time Danica's car passed by, she would light up like a Christmas tree and clap her hands in triumph. I guess deep inside me I was clapping my hands, too. I like Danica. I like how she has been able to handle herself with all the attention. I like that she is able to compete. I like that she is the underdog at the moment and I can't wait to see her finally win a race

Departure Limbo

The news is out at the office that I'm leaving. I really wish I could just disappear....but it would be rude to just walk away. People have been calling and the appreciation has been nice.

I hate were I'm sitting....too much foot traffic....too vulnerable to stop overs....."why are you leaving?"...."where are you going?"...."what made you decide to go?"...."i see you have a nice inkjet printer?"..... :)

damn.

Making Tracks

Ah yes, I love the smell of plastic in the evening....well, no smell really. I finally got the chance to put together the Lego train set that my sister got for me during her trip to Legoland in San Diego.

I always dreamed about the train set when I was a kid and now that I can afford to get one, I intend to spoil my inner child :).

This is probably my first ever entry about Lego so I will make the following statements now:

1. Yes, I still love to play with Lego sets.
2. I still have all the Lego sets I've ever owned.
3. I have no immediate plans to stop ;).

Lego bricks are an engineering marvel. I have never had a set (knock on wood) that had a deffective part. Lego sets can equally be considered a manufacturing marvel. I have never, ever had a set with a missing piece.

My ultimate dream is to build a living city. One that has lights, moving vehicles, and effects. I guess that's why I finally bought the train.

Biomechanical

Biomechanical. Such is the term to describe a tattoo that resembles machinery of some sort, or in the case of my search, tattoo based on HR Giger's art. I am aching for a tattoo. I got my first one when I hit 30 and I had planned to get one each year. But finding true meaning for each tattoo can't be placed on a schedule. If it is to have meaning, the thought and emotion behind it should find you....and I feel that I am getting close.

I discovered Micah Parker's tattoo art and I'm considering coming to her studio in Utah someday to get my old tattoo reworked and add a new one as well.

WTF: where are our priorities?

On the way to work, I read this article in the San Francisco Chronicle about prison inmates raising money to help keep the Salinas Free Library open. It was heartwarming to hear prison inmates express their belief that libraries are important, and that it can easily be associated with education; most of them stating that they would have never been in prison if they had more opportunities for education; and that the prison library actually has helped them find more meaning in life, whether it be education to prepare them for life in the outside, or knowledge to help others who still have a chance. The article is here if you want to read it.

I just can't understand why schools and libraries are closing down. If the country can afford to rebuild war-torn countries, why can't it save our schools and libraries? Don't you think that when prison inmates start talking about the importance of spending more on libraries than prisons, that it's time to pause and reflect on this matter?

I had a really long walk from the terminal to the office. It was a sad way to start the day.

You Never Know

I bumped into an old classmate....well more like seminar attendee....at the train station today. I really didn't see him and if it were not for him calling me out twice, I probably would have never looked his way. It only took me a few seconds to remember who he was....though I have to admit I am juggling between a two to three names in my mind. I said hello and was very enthusiastic to see how he was doing and what he had been doing outside of "class".

He didn't say much and I found myself leading all the conversations. If I didn't say anything, there would be dead silence. So I tried to keep it going, but by the fourth station I was mentally exhausted and out of ideas so I just shut it down, and true to form, there was dead silence.

This did make me think about this situation. I remember that back in our seminar, I sat next to him, and though we did have a few laughs and shared stories, I always felt that this guy didn't like me and I just had to stop being friendly and just leave him alone, which is what I did. So it does surprise me that he actually called my attention at the station. Hell, he could have just completely ignored me (and I would have never known it), but he went out of his way to come over and say that I looked familiar and that he probably knew who I was...and so I probably stand corrected.

I should have turned things around the first time. I'm a loner myself and I'm not fond of socializing myself, and even though I think leaving him alone may have been the right thing to do, feeling negatively about was the wrong mindset.

I hope that the next time I see him I will feel better about it.

Drill Bit or Capuccino?

It started out as your typical quiet Friday morning here at work. Then this load grinding sound....was someone grinding coffee beans?....I wish...it's a drill....someone must be having their cube "ergonomically adjusted".

Smells a Kinda Like Teen Spirit

San Francisco 11:55am

While waiting for my friends, I sat on one of the granite steps around the water fountain at Rincon Center. There was a guy playing the Kimball grand piano. His hands were rather high or elevated as he played. I'm guessing he has some classical piano background, but not necessarily a strict classical piano repertoire...as he was playing tunes from Nirvana and Oasis :).

Morning Glory

It was the second day after the long weekend (4th of July Holiday). Everyone was expecting the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) strike to begin today. The deadline for negotiotiations was midnight July 5th. For some reason, I woke up around 3am, so I turned on the TV, flipped through the local stations, and finally found a "ticker tape" message on channel 2, stating that an agreement had been reached and the strike was averted. TV off. Adjust alarm clock. Back to Sleep.

I guess I was only half-awake because I could have sworn I switched the TV off. Still I could faintly hear news reporters talking....maybe it was all in my head. I opened one eye and saw that the TV was indeed on. But I was half-asleep so I couldn't move (or maybe I didn't want to) so I just left it on.

It's been a horrible couple of weeks. I haven't been able to get any more than 4 or 5 hours of straight sleep a day. I always end up waking up at 2 or 3am. More often than not, I'm on my way to sleep between 11:30pm - 1:30am...that's between Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien's shows. Jay's great but over the years I've come to like Conan more and It'd be nice to see him earlier so I can doze off when it gets to the next show. I may get my wish since Conan is replacing Jay when he retires. I wonder who will cover Conan's spot?

Anyway....

Back on the Road

Orlando, FL - I'm back on the road again...so to speak, or back in business travel, I guess. The last time I hit the road this way was back in my Oracle days. My most active time was between 1997 and 1999, when I was still working for Oracle's Support division (back then it was called Oracle Worldwide Support). Back then I was, on average, on the road about two weeks of each month. The first year it was really exciting being on a different place all the time. By the second year though I have to admit it began to take its toll and I burned out a bit. By the time I transferred to Oracle Education (later Oracle University) my travel was greatly reduced to attending conferences. It did make me sad to see my status go down the ranks in United Airlines' Mileage program, going from Premier Executive to Premier to Mileage Plus (standard). Oh well.

In my brief stint at PeopleSoft as a contractor I knew my chances of such travel was nil. Schwab, however, gave a little bit of promise. Unfortunately, I came at a bad time and there were budgetary constraints. Luckily my boss was very persistent and championed my request to attend the ASTD conference in Orlando...no, it's not a disease...ASTD stands for the American Society for Training and Development.

(Margarita photo)
(Hotel photo)

A Nurse to Watch Over Me

May of 2005 marks my first year at Charles Schwab. To celebrate the event, Linda (my boss), introduced me to the woman who would represent what attracts me to the opposite sex. In previous conversations, Linda may have picked up on what seems to be a pattern in the women that catch my fancy. The list would probably include the following characters: Kate Moss, Fiona Apple, PJ Harvey, Mathilda (Natalie Portman's character in Leon), and Wednesday (Christina Ricci's character in The Addams Family).

And so she presents me with my muse....

Nurse Hypochondrianna


Medulla Oblongata

Midnight Run

And so it came to pass. I joined the many who stood in line for one of the midnight shows for Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. The movie is indeed better than the previous two prequels, but I have to admit that it is not the best of all the episodes as some have come to believe.

Bleed Me Dry

She is still in hiding, but....

What you did to me made me
See myself something different
Though I try to talk sense to myself
But I just won't listen
Won't you go away
Turned yourself in
You're no good at confession
Before the image that you burned me in
Tries to teach you a lesson
What you did to me made me see myself somethin' awful
A voice once stentorian is now again weak and muffled
It took me such a long time to get back up the first time you did it
I spent all I had to get it back, and now it seems I've been outbidded
My peace and quiet was stolen from me
When I was looking with calm affection
You were searching out my imperfections
What wasted unconditional love
On somebody
Who doesn't believe in the stuff
You came up on me like a hipnik jerk
When I was just about settled
And when it counts you recoil
With the cryptic word and leave a love belittled
Oh what a cold and a common old way to go
I was feeding on the need for you to know me
Devastated off the rage you found below me
What wasted unconditional love
On somebody
Who doesn't believe in this life
Oh well

"Oh Well"
by Fiona Apple
(from her unreleased album, "Extraordinary Machine")

Forks in the Road

When I peek through the viewfinder of an old camera, it makes me wonder at the wealth of experience around it: the countless places it's been, people who've held or stood in front of it, images it has created over the years. Of course, the camera may have only been used once and then tucked away (or worse, left to the elements), only to find new life in the hands of that juggernaut flea market called ebay. But still, it holds its own. Whether it was used five or five hundred times, each camera has its own potential. And like an old warbird, it's just waiting for an old mechanic or pilot with an idea of resurgence.

Should I dare begin assigning personalities to cameras? Why not? Each camera is unique. With so many different shutters and lenses manufactured over so many years, coupled with the effect of aging on metal and glass, no one lens or shutter attached to a camera body can truly be identical to another.

At this point I should stop for a while and say that I am aware of the age old wisdom that it is the seeing eye, the photographer, that makes the image, and that the camera is just a tool. I totally agree. What I am perhaps trying to explore is the effect of the tool on the seeing eye. Do you think it matters? I guess that's more of a personal experience (or not). Does it matter to Beatrix Kiddo that she's holding a Hattori Hanzo sword? Does Li Mu Bai care less about the Sword of Destiny when he can easily defend himself with a stick of bamboo?

I will say that for me, it does. Not all cameras are the same and you hold each one based on the contour of its body, position of the shutter release, and viewfinder angle. My first cameras were standard SLR bodies. It wasn't until I started collecting vintage cameras that it suddenly dawned on me that there are so many ways of "seeing the world". When I look down on the viewfinder of a Rolleiflex, I am persuaded to look at things from a lower angle (and in a square frame). The tendency was to look up, and that opened a new dimension for my seeing eye. Church towers reach further in the sky, the ground exposes so much texture, and people just simply look different when you shift from looking straight at them to staring up at them. This made me appreciate the waist-level finder I had for my Nikon F. It also hit a switch in me that's started this obsession for finding other paths down the road of capturing the image. About a month or two ago I was so excited at having acquired a right-angle finder for my FM2. It's nothing more than a periscope-like attachment for the viewfinder. But personally I found another way to look through the viewfinder, another path for the seeing eye.

When I look through the finder of an old Kodak Six-16, I'm merely looking at a box frame with no glass or parallax correction, but a lot of things are going on in my mind. I am taking a shot where the negative has a panoramic angle, a supremely larger size (than 35mm), and is at the mercy of an old Kodon shutter and Anastigmat lens.

Should I venture beyond metal and glass? Why not? I'm constantly looking for old roads...old paths...emulsion transfers, toners, autoprocessors. There are so many roads. Will they lead me anywhere? Somewhere? Someday?

Does all this stray from being in full control of your tools so that you are able to compose the image that you want to see? Perhaps. After all, this is an essay about straying to so many different paths. Do you believe in fate? If you do, then maybe you have a feeling about all this...and if you don't, then this is all bullshit for you. I'm sorry I wasted your time if you've reached this far into my entry.

I should end by saying that this was probably an exercise in finding words for intuition. I feel a little bit more than I think, and that is probably why I will always have this unknown in my process. And as I forever try to interpret it, I will continue to trust its influence.

and so i go on...

Tatooine

Tatooine rests in the distant Outer Rim, beyond the reaches of Republic and Imperial law. Even the Trade Federation lacked a presence on the desert planet. Poor, with very little industry to boast, Tatooine is a mixture of hard-working locals attempting to extract a living from the unforgiving environment and transients visiting the world for illegal ventures. Tatooine is controlled by the Hutts, and their shady operations bring many spacers, bounty hunters, thieves and other malcontents to the planet's few port cities.

Tatooine has a seemingly endless desert environment cooked by the intense energy of twin yellow suns. Rocky mesas, canyons and arroyos break up the monotony of kilometers of shifting dunes. The days are hot and the nights are frigid. The air is dry and the soil is parched. Yet life persists on Tatooine, in varied, hardy forms. Indigenous sentient life includes the scavenging Jawas and the fearsome Tusken Raiders. Creatures found roaming the desert include banthas, rontos, dewbacks, scurriers, womp rats, krayt dragons and eopies.

Sporadic colonization attempts have resulted in scattered communities separated by vast gulfs of wilderness. On the edge of the Dune Sea is Mos Eisley, arguably Tatooine's busiest port during the time of the Empire. Not too far away are Mos Espa, Anchorhead, and Bestine township.

If not involved in Hutt business, most colonists on the planet eke out a meager existence as moisture farmers. Small homesteads employ devices called moisture vaporators to tug what little water vapor is suspended in Tatooine's air. This moisture is then used to irrigate underground crops or is sold directly to interested parties.

(from starwars.com)