A quick walk around the SO's neighborhood netted me some information about VINO a wine shop. The catch of the day is a bordeaux from France. It cost me $13. Apparently, 2000 bordeaux's are supposedly good because all the grapes were ripened to the fullest extent.

2000 Chateau Peyraud Bordeaux - France

Right next door was a cheese shop so I also ended up buying some bread and two cheeses, Vintage White Cheddar Cabot and Brinata Il Forteto. I just popped the cork and it was a mess. Damn, that was a pretty bad cork. I also had bought a new corker and it did not do a great job. Hmm, it's either the cork or the corker. Which one sucked? I basically had to keep shoving the corker into the cork. And then, the cork split into two. Cork seems to be a tad bit too dry. I am now airing the wine for a while. 30 minutes supposedly. I have to massage my hands because of the pain that corker gave me. Maybe I will invest in THE RABBIT, a $60 value at Amazon.com. Supposedly, it is so easy, even I can do it.

Winepoetics and the Wily Filipino have been commenting on the dinner between Bush and Macapagal-Arroyo. In short, there were comments about crushing the terrorism. Since I need to leave soon, I have to point out some obvious things. First, the Philippines can not crush those terrorists who don't really have armored carrier personnel like the Philippine Army? Second, what does a 1st world country need in helping stamp out Philippine terrorists whose likely weapon is a bolo and sharpened stick? Third, has anyone proven that terrorists in the Philippines have a money trail to some rich Arab terror supporter like Libya?

I ask because a lot of Pin@ys in the Philippines have suggested that the Philippine military is the one who bombs the areas. WHY? Well, for a Muslim to bomb the center of town on the Muslim's holiest day just does not make sense. Think about it, if you are a Christian terrorist, would you bomb on Christmas?

I would not be having these thoughts if it did not come to pass that the former cronies of President Marcos admitted that they set up the circumstances surrounding the declaration of martial law. If it happened once, it can happen again. Why would I suddenly trust the military when they were reared under the leadership of Marcos? Corrupt is as corrupt does.

I'm not so pissed that Tex-Bush and GMA tasted fine wine. Knowing their palette, they probably preferred beer and Kool-Aid. This brings me to my secret. Does anyone else here think that GMA is EXTREMELY SEXY??? Wow, I was floored by how cute she was. Hmmm, is she married?

And so it brings me to the topic of Bill and Hillary. How can Bill not be true to Hillary? She is cute. And no, I'm not being sarcastic. I really think that Hillary is cute. Hell, she managed to get Bill elected to the Presidency right? Anyways, here's to Hillary! I support her for president! I figure everyone who hates Hillary just is envious of her beauty and her brains.

REtong

Men are gay. Women are lesbians.

I have always been attracted to women who had that page cut look. You know, the ones who looked and most likely are lesbians. I suppose it was just that I thought that they looked cute with the short hair. This somehow brings me to Carrie Ann Moss of Matrix Reloaded. As a scholar of images, I have to analyze why it is that she attracts my eye. I was examining her photo and noticed the mainly masculine features of her face: strong chin, sallow complexion, generally square face. She's not very feminine at all. I'm betting that a lot of make-up have to be added to make her sexually attractive.

Hmm, do you think that men would still find her sexy after realizing that they are attracted to her because of the mainly masculine features? There is a story running around that Jamie Lee Curtis is really androgynous, that she is actually is a feminized XY male. Now, after hearing that, I could not fancy her as being sexy in the movie in which she stars with Arnold Schwarznegger (forgot the title). The abject masculinity in her body made me think twice.

I prefer to see myself as having a balance of the male and female energy. I have noticed that most people who do not have this balance of energy are "off" in some way. If one is too masculine, then one relentlessly attacks and does not think. If one is too feminine, one is too nurturing and is taken abused. The right balance allows one to adjust to the vicissitudes of life.

IMHO, this is one reason why the majority of male dancers are gay. They are the ones in the male kingdom who are capable of athletic prowess and yet are creative from the female energy. From time to time, there are males who are not gay but who have a balance of the female energy who become great dancers. And this applies to female dancers as well. They need the strength (masculine) in order to perform all the movements.

Which brings me to the two greatest Philippine folk dancers I ever saw. The first is Johanna P. who was the first freshman to ever dance the singkil in UC Berkeley ever. Think of that. The singkil is the most elaborate and most coveted dance in a Pilipino cultural night performance. Johanna was judged to be the best out of those who tried out even though she was only a freshman. Johanna went on to dance the three major dances for PCN: the Igorot dance, the Jota Manilena, and the tinikling. In each dance, she was absolutely breath-taking. A magical moment that lives on in my memory.

In Jota Manilena 1997, everything was so right even the lighting that I saw the history of the Philippines in a dance. Johanna also choreographed that one with another person who I forget. I have a photo that I will post one of these days that encapsulates the dance and the feeling in that dance. I could see in her movements the pain and suffering and the rebirth of the Philippines. How does it feel to transcend dance to become a living historical account of a country?

In the Igorot dance, Johanna P was as great as any dancer I ever saw. It was very difficult to photograph simply because I could not peel my eyes off of her. The rawness of the emotion and the balancing of the pots was just surreal considering she was a junior at the time and not a professional dancer. There are still performances out there that pale when compared to J's.

Here's to you Johanna. I hope you are dancing somewhere out there in Boston.

REtong

damn, i have to learn how to code. i wonder if it is worth it to just pay for the upgraded blog. i'm having difficulty adding a darned counter. for some reason, the template disappears when i mess with it.

buffy the vampire slayer has ended. talk about dying loves. spike gives himself up for humanity. or is it for buffy?

I just visited the HermitQ's adobe abode (haha! if it only it were!) and was reminded about another epiphany. The fascination I currently have over poetry and avant-garde or even modern poetry is all the rule-breaking. Stanzas are being cleaved into two; rhythms are subsumed into nonsense; chaos for chaos' sake is scrambled into an omelette. But WHY?

I believe it is to see the world anew. To release the poet or the poems that are stewing, crying to be freed from the soul. Initially, poetry was a creative process free from inhibition. With the advent of academia, it became a box to be measured with respect to its greatness and beauty. (Insert Robin Williams' "Master, my master" scene from "Dead Poets Society" for full effect) So, to see flowers reborn, to hear birds sing anew, and to live life robustly the rules must be abandoned. The narrative must become something else.

This applies to my current work in photography. For the last six or seven years, I have been trying to capture the Filipino soul by photographing Philippine folk dancing. I have reached a moment of pause in which I believe that journey is over. Now, I must find a new passion which will allow me to explore Filipin@ identity. In order to do it, I believe I must create chaos from order. Sense from chaos. Beauty from nonsense.

have you ever tried to hold desire in the palm? it is nearly impossible to contain for it trickles through your fingers like melting ice in a navel. the harder the desire the greater the flow of melted lemon from the column of flesh. let go of desire and the palm remains wet from the dew in the breath of a dream. desire remains ingratiated into the skin whatever you do.

Dinner tonight is milkfish marinated in garlic, unagi, abraw and rice. The milkfish is bought at a farmer's market. The unagi comes frozen from your favorite Ranch 99 store. The abraw is the remains of the meal prepared at HermitQueen's. I was bemoanin the lack of food at SO's place, but this is quite a decent meal. Oh, I almsot forgot, there is lechon take-home from a previous party. I have to figure out how to stop freezer burn from affecting material placed in the freezer. This is not going to be easy. A review of the bangus later.

Today, I found some already opened wine bottles in the refrigerator of the significant other (SO). Amidst liquefied mangoes, fungus-ridden cheesecake, there was a dessert wine and a white wine.

2002 Villa Maria Riesling Private Bin - New Zealand

2000 Robert Mondavi Winery Moscato d'Oro - Napa, USA

The bottles were opened during the Easter festivities. Unfortunately, that was quite a while ago. But I'm in a mood for slumming so I delved my tastebuds into the wine. The Riesling has been oxidized a bit. There is not too much to taste. Amazingly enough, the moscato survived almost a month's worth of purgatory.

The SO will be back on Sunday and I am wondering what I should end up cooking. The so has been in the islands and probably has tasted all the fresh fish and vegetable one can get. So, maybe I should go to the luxurious and cook some hamburgers or should I dare and challenge the gods and cook vege-burgers???

added a counter

spent a whole evening trying to add links. no success.

Saturday the goal is to go wine shopping/slumming. The target is Trader Joe's and the obsession is to see Two Buck Chuck. Worse comes to worse, we will look at wine in a cask (box). I am interested in seeing how wines in Australia, Chile and other places compare to wines in California. Let's face it, the microclimates are the same even though the seasons are different with respect to the calendar. Well, of course, I have never compared actual land geography of the areas so maybe I am mistaken about microclimates. I figure though that the primarily important components are sun duration, soil condition, humidity, and migrant labor.

After lunch at Picante located in Alameda, the targets were acquired at Trader Joe's. The following were obtained for less than $7.

2000 Charles Shaw Cabernet Sauvignon California ($1.99)

2001 Charles Shaw California Merlot California ($1.99)

2000 Forest Ville Caberneet Sauvignon California ($3.99)

2002 San Andres Cabernet Merlot Lontue Valley ? Chile ($2.99)

2001 Barton & Gustier Cabernet Sauvignon vin de Pays D'oc ? France ($3.99)

2002 [ yellow tail ] shiraz ? Southeastern Australia ($4.99)

1997 Monasterio de Tentudia Tempranillo ? Spain ($4.99)

The taste test was under way with Charles Shaw Cab already open when disaster struck. My 21" Apple monitor created a buzzing noise and then the monitor went off. I could not turn it on again. Just today, I searched for a place that would repair it. Unfortunately, I learned later on that when cathode ray tube monitor are repaired, they have a tendency to explode. Thus, most monitors are not repaired. They are just thrown and recycled.

The Charles Shaw Cab, otherwise known as "Two Buck Chuck" has a mixed reputation among people. I wanted to find out the real story. Compared to the Five Rivers Ranch, the $2 wine is not comparable; it has this bitter aftertaste. Although, you tend to get used to it after a while.

REtong

Could it already be two weeks since the visit to HermitQueen's Napa domicile? And here, I am still recounting the tales of wine. One of the places we visited was Beaulieu Vineyard (BV). The tasting room is in downtown St. Helena with lush green trees covering the façade of the buildings. When we went to BV, the skies were gray and a light rain was beginning. It was as if the gods of wine and bounty wanted us to visit and taste some wine.

Ever since seeing the reserve tasting room in the Mondavi estate, we have decided to skip the cheap stuff and go straight to the stuff we desired but could not afford. The reserve tasting room for Beaulieu was elegant and bright. Each flight (I guess this means each set of wine to be tasted) was $25. The list was as follows:

2000 Carneros Reserve Chadonnay ($28)
2000 Carneros Reserve Pinot Noir($35)
1991 Georges de Latour Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon ($99)
1999 Tapestry Reserve ($45)
1999 Georges de Latour private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon (100)

The '91 and '99 Cabernet were very, very good. We ended up buying the '91 cabernet because it was smoother. The taste was refined, soft and subtle. The '99 on the other hand was full of taste, which was endearing to my tastebuds, but too much for other people's.

On the other hand and in hindsight, if you don't remember anything about wine at all, remember that in 1999, Napa had a great harvest. This year is going to be a classic. So perhaps, we should have brought the 1999 George de Latour. But with a budget, you don't always get what you want. I would have preferred to buy both bottles just to see how they would taste after ten years.

The following are the descriptions written by Beaulieu Vineyard:

2000 Carneros Reservve Chardonnay. Brilliant yellow-green gold color. This vintage reveals at an early age a complex bouquet of toasted nuts, vanilla and apple pear, with a hint of dairy cream. The flavors are quite full-bodied and very fruit forward. With rich pear and honey fruit, solid acidity strengthened by a rich viscous texture and a lovely complete finish with fruit and oak strongly integrated. Lush yet vibrant, this vintage has great balance and intentsity. This vintage is aged in 80% French oak and 20% American oak for 9 months. It should age well for 2-3 years and would make a fine accompaniment to roasted chicken or a grilled seabass with a lemon beurre blanc.

2000 Carneros Reserve Pinot Noir. Medium dark-ruby color. Rich, dark cherry and black pepper aromas, with hints of spicy-vanilla oak, smoke and anise demonstrate excellent varietal character. Medium full-bodied, this vintage also shows bright acidity married to ripe tannins and rich cherry/plum and cocoa flavors. The velvety texture, supporting fine tannins, is truly expressive of the best Carneros Pinot Noirs. This vintage is aged in 85% French oak, 10% American oak and 5% Russian oak for 9 months. This wine should age well for up to a decade and will make a fine accompaniment to classic roast meat dishes, grilled duck breast, grilled salmon and savory cheeses like Fontina and aged Gouda.

1991 Georges de Latour Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon. The 1991 Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon has a beautiful dark ruby color. The aromas of black currant, cherry and toasty oak are especially complex and intense in this vintage. With similar flavors and tremendous depth and richness, this wine will age for several more years with optimum cellaring conditions. The 1991 vintage has an addition of 5% Merlot and was aged in 50% American Oak and 50% French Oak for 20 months.

Confession: I am a closeted poet. As a child, I loved words. I could not wait to read. In fact, I learned to read because my yaya could not satisfy my desires. I was already suffering as a child what remains to be a lifelong affliction and disappointment with respect to desire, lust and more lust. I lusted for stories, confessions, and poems. What almost killed my lust for art was the educational system. If you ever wanted to kill the love for the Tagalog language, just place your child in the school systems in the Philippines. By the siliconized phallus stuck in the academicians posterior, they will be able to extinguish the lust for knowledge in one year flat. Just ask anyone about their experience in learning Tagalog. If you do not get horror stories, that person is lying.

I fancied myself the next Balagtas. The esteemed poet who wrote in Tagalog. I wanted to write stories in Tagalog. I wanted fame and the Palanca award. But as I look back, I wanted all those things for the wrong reasons. I just wanted fame. I did not want to write a seminal work that touches what it means to be Pin@y. I wanted awards without recognizing what the award is supposed to be. I wanted fortune when in reality, artists who do not know how to sell their work are almost always poor and waiting for handouts to create their art. Thank God, my lust for money overwhelmed my lust for words. But as you voyeuristically know now, I am having an affair with literature right behind my partner money.

dalangin ko ay tuwina mong maalala
ang kahapong nagdaan, kahapong halimuyak
ng paraisong sumakailan,
maisip mong bigla ang halimuyak ng kamay
ang laswa ng hitang nagtago sa tela.

pinangako sa diyos na ikaw lang ang mamahalin
subalit puso ay nalungkot, puso ay humimlay
langoy laban sa gusto, naging karaniwang pagdiriwang.
isang tuba na tinungga upang masiyahan
dahil paminsan-minsan lungkot ay karaniwan.

pangako sa diyos napabayaan,
lumangoy man paayaw; nalunod rin sa tukso,
nawalan ng kamalayan; nawalan ng husga
nagbakasakali, nagbakasarili.

dalangin ng matanda, na ang dalagitang naaalala
mutya ng karimlan, mutya ng katotohanan
nabubuhay na masaya, walang naaalala
kundi ang makatawang paraiso ng
nakaraang paghalik, nakaraang pagyakap.
REtong 18mayo2003

Para sa mga umalis ng Pilipinas na umiwan ng katotohanan.
REtongPanitikan

Tribute: Maganda magazine celebrated its 15th issue this past weekend. I saw the start of this magazine in 1989 in the UC Berkeley campus. I had doubts about its merit and about its direction. I had doubts about its ability to endure and flourish. I had doubts that there were enough writers, artists, dedication and perseverance to make it last 4 years. Its nice to know that I am wrong on all counts.

Secretly, passionately, I have envied the people who work at Maganda. They are so full of optimism, of hope, of vision, of devil-may-care attitude. I wish I was like them in so many ways. I long for the ability to create and then publish my own work. I long for the courage to face a nasty budget problem and to solve that lack of funds. I long for a challenge when I can barely pay my apartment.

We don't care that the world does not think we can do it. We will do it.

So, you don't have faith that we can do this? Well we do!

I don't know if the current members realize just how much of an opportunity they have in their hands. I don't know if they understand that the problems and the challenges that they faced created their character. Sometimes, you don't have the time to pay attention to what is happening inside of you when you are under pressure. Sometimes, you don't see it till 15 to 20 years down the line.

The topic this year is WAR. What vision! What creativity to tackle a subject so comprehensive and stultifying. You gotta give them a pat on the back for the hutzpah of just showing up and pulling it off. I wish I were 21 years old and had that much courage in my life. Then, I would not have to rely on my beauty, my long silken hair, my curvaceous body, my luscious lips and my brilliant intellect in my day to day existence. I could simply create the world anew each time I felt like it. Heres to Maganda! Here's to another fifteen years.

REtongHumahanga

HermitQueen was gracious enough to include me in her blog. So if you are one of her fans reading this, welcome. By the way, I am trying to jump into ricebowljournals.com?s Top 200 so if you can kindly click on the link from my webpage, I would surely appreciate it. HEY! I am currently number 141!!! I knew that content was going to champion over cute looks and come hither photos. Oh wait, I am using a come hither photo aren?t I? Oh well, if you can?t beat them, you might as well join them.

Have you noticed however that the top 20 was all women? Not just that, they were all women with cute photos. I have this fear that the only ones reading ricebowljournals are males looking for a woman to go out with. Hmm, what do you think? I certainly click on the cute females, but then again, people tell me that I a lesbian. But who can resist their soft, luscious bodies? Their wonderful soft skin that feel like silk? Who can resist those shiny, lipstick covered lips? Is it me or is it getting hot in here? Hoowee! I better open up that window.

Are there any sweethearts out there who would be willing to lend me a 21 inch Apple flat screen? Perhaps you have an extra one lying around. I would surely appreciate it if you could lend it to me for a few years. It?s so hard having to go to an internet café and posting from there. There?s rude guys who keep coming up and bothering my beauty. No, I am not yet done with the machine!

Unfortunately, the 21 inch CRT monitor to my Mac died unceremoniously. I have to see if the repair shop will be able to extend its new life. So, my blogging and your voyeur experience into the culinary delight that is my life will have to be placed on hold for some evenings at least.

There was an ethnic potluck last Friday at work. The organizers suggested that one should bring food that celebrates one?s culture. A majority of the people wanted me to cook some lumpia. They did not wish to hear my excuse that it was difficult to do without a deep fat fryer. They did not want to hear that my whole place would smell like a restaurant or a fast food joint. I wanted to tell them that I simply did not have them high enough on my list for me to cook for them or for me to go to the trouble of cooking for them. Why do I say that? In the end, they will take the easy way out. They will not take the time nor the care to prepare a delectable meal. They will not appreciate the culinary delight of another culture. They will not care that I slaved over the hot oil with my perspiration dripping onto the food. Oh wait, that sounds so unsanitary.

Am I correct in my assessments? Probably. I was lucky enough to go with Son a Vietnamese immigrant who decided to get something at FoodMart in Hayward. When we reached that place, we found crispy pata! Now for those who don?t know it, you can take the lower leg of a pig and deep fat fry it. Mmmmmm. Delicious! I bought that crispy pata thinking that finally, they will get to taste the Filipino delicacy. I fancied that they would be open minded enough to try a piece of it. It just so figures that 50% tried it and liked it. The other 50% just did not care for it. So why should I cook for them again?

The crispy pata was a little old in that the skin was no longer crispy. But hey, you can ask them when they make it so that you can be there. Not only that, they also sold chicharong bulaklak or fried chittlings. Mmmmmm. That is just plain delicious. I did not buy the chicharon because I did not want to suffer a heart attack. I think in the next party, I will have to bring some of that so I can review it. The meat in the crispy pata was well done though a bit dry. I give it 1 out of 5 oxtails because of the dryness and the not so crispy skin. But as an entrée into the potluck, it was a 4 out of 5 oxtails. It was something unusual and some people enjoyed eating it. By the way, they cut the middle of the feet with a big-ass knife and it was delicious with the cartilage. Too bad that the cartilage was too little.

I walked around the poetry room of City Lights looking for some books to buy. I was hoping to buy some books by the poets reading from their work on 15 may 2003, but I did not see any of their books for sale. Instead, I saw Ginsberg and Kerouac in the section devoted to the beat generation. I saw Keats and Dante Alligheiri in the general poetry section. But every time I read the words of the poems, they just did not strike a resonance that insinuated itself into my soul. With much persistence however, I found one book that did: Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West edited by Daniel Ladinsky.

The poems of Rabia of Basra (717-801). How odd that by adding the dates of a life, I think that I can better understand the life of Rabia. Rabia was an influential female Islamic saint in the Sufi tradition. In earlier life, she was bought into a brothel because of her beauty. At the age of 50, she gained her freedom through the auspices of a rich patron. She lived her life in meditation and prayer and visitors seeked her for guidance into their life. Miracles are attributed to her.


THE SKY GAVE ME ITS HEART

The sky gave me its heart
because it knew mine was not large enough to care
for the earth the way
it did.

Why is it we think of God so much?
why is there so much talk
about love?

When an animal is wounded
no one has to tell it, "You need to heal"; so naturally it will nurse
itself the best it can.

My eye kept telling me, "Something is missing from
all I see." So it went in search of the cure.

The cure for me was His Beauty, the remedy?
for me was to
love.

By the way, if you ever wonder why I use question marks, I type up my little trysts in Word and then copy and paste. For some reason, blogger translates some symbols into question marks.

REtongHubad

The recount of my trip to San Francsico was actually incomplete. The moment up to going and staying at SF was actually full of indecisions. It was a Thursday evening, a workout evening so that I could retain the figure that drives women wild, a beautiful temperate night where a light jacket is the only thing you needed, a night in which the HermitQueen was going to read at City Lights in San Francisco. I don't know about you, but I don't know anyone who has ever read at City Lights, the center of the world in poetry, the home of beat poetry, the place where Allen Ginsberg HOWLED from morning into evening into the darkness of his soul, where Jack Kerouac most likely stood still and cased his life as a 20 year bottle of wine.

Weighing the merits of going and not going was interesting. What pushed me to finally decide to go? I figured I could have dinner at Chinatown and then go on to City Lights. I walked through the bowels of Chinatown in the light of dusk seeking a restaurant that is not too expensive but is not a hole in the wall either. I began from the gates of Chinatown at Stockton and Grant. Each time I pass through the main street of Chinatown, I am amazed that above the storefronts, people live, eat, and die. Have you ever looked up to the windows? You can almost listen to the breathing of the hidden lives.

I chose the restaurant ________. I saw that they had "Beef Stew ? Cantonese Style" and I remembered that in the 1990's, my favorite restaurant in Berkeley was this Hong-Kong Restaurant on University near the Cineplex where the Rocky Horror picture show would be shown. Beef stew was comfort food if I ever had a bad day in lab, in love or in the loneliness that follows and haunts graduate students wondering whether or not if they will ever finish their thesis.

The beef stew was excellent. It was a 5 out of 5 oxtails experience. The seasoning was just as I expected. The beef turned out to be tendons which is a larger surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Tendons when cooked properly and for a long time become soft, pliable and delicious. Biting into tendons is like eating fat, without the disadvantage of blocking your arteries. The beef with pan fried Chinese bread was a disappointment. 0 out of 5 oxtails. Don't order it because the bread came out dry. It should be crispy, not rock solid hard.

Overall, going alone to this restaurant was not pleasant, but the food was good enough. They placed me right next to the cashier. I suppose that if you were the owner, you would not want the multiple seating tables to be occupied by a lone stranger. Oh well, not much tip for the server either.

I ended up in City Lights Bookstore tonight to support the HermitQueen in one of her public appearances. The poetry reading was to celebrate the publication of Van Gogh's Ear (VGE) a journal of "contemporary, experimental, daring poetry of unusual forms, language, genius, and provocation." The readers were Mary Burger, Albert Flynn DeSilver, kari Edwards, Paul Hoover, and Eileen Tabios.

Mary Burger uses experimental narrative. The story accepted in VGE discussed relationships in terms of particle physics. I need to obtain the other copy just to see her writing. I only bought the Spring 2003 issue. For her reading, Ms. Burger used writing which discussed the development of atomic bombs from the perspective of people who saw the explosions and might have worked on the facilities that supported the nuclear program. Her use of language was Spartan. "The man? The boy? The woman?" were words that I remember.

Next up on the podium was Albert Flynn DeSilver the publisher for The Owl Press. I liked his poetry in that it was a very hang loose type. Definitely hints of Buddhism in his writing in terms of subjects and approach. I just read his poetry in VGE and I think it is a lot above my understanding. Because of that, we will reserve judgement.

kari edwards is a gender activist. Her first poem dealt with the moment between daydreaming and the moment of being pulled back into reality. She was able to capture the slowing of time in her poetry. She then read from Chapter 14 of A Day in the Life of P. This was a much more difficult reading because of the pace, the rhythm, and the breath that needed to be sucked in so that the words can be let out. Definitely an acquired taste for me.

Paul Hoover is a great reader. Excellent pacing, inflection, and commentary. His poetry discusses pieces of experience falling together. His voice is the classic voice of poetry. The voice was deep, sonorous, rhythmic, and full of life. He was also full of humor and wit. This is how I imagined Robert Frost should sound. He noted that the phrase "infinity's brief intercalation" is the definition of poetry.

The last poet was Eileen Tabios. From my previous posts, you would know that I now can connect with Eileen on one level. I'm not sure just how many levels she has, but I'm quite happy to be able to say that I can relate to her though it is only at one level. I always wondered how to describe Eileen's voice when reading poetry. Finally, I came to the word: femininity. The poem "Helen" published in VGE came from her series "Crucial Bliss," which will be published in book form soon. She read the following poems: Pink Lemonade, Dear Antique Mirror, Besmirched, and Yen. Her poem Yen is at her website. You should check it out because my favorite line goes something like: "your nipples circumference remind me of the sun and moon over Istanbul."

My interest in poetry is an attempt to learn a new discipline so that my photography can be expanded in thought and background. I feel that images are good, but creation of images and having meaning in images is a greater challenge. In order to create meaning in photographs, I must understand the poetry of light. Thus, my interest in poetry. Words are like light. Used by different people, light and words will mean different things

The experience of drinking wine from a mug has sufficiently disturbed me that I have pulled out my old crystal flutes for champagne. Perhaps it is better to drink red wine from a champagne flute than from a mug. The crystal was a bought for the intention of seducing a young lady. I remember it well?. The planning, the selection of champagne for the eventual sofa love seat tryst, the cooking of the pasta was ruined, ruined by the presence of a friend invited at the last minute. Or was it a plan for a threesome? Hmm, now that the solemn one is older, one sees things in such different light. One looks at the past with rosy wine in the head and a lost twinkle in the eye. At any rate, the crystal sang when a finger caressed the tips with the magic of water. An empty canister of childish dreams, teenager's lust pouring from the brim.

The cheese is Garcia Baquero Winey Goat. I have to smirk at the irony of a Pin@ay eating cheese from the mother land. The Cabernet simply explodes as I suck it in with a mouthful of cheese and olive bread from Acme. Wow, is this what I have been missing? But perhaps my tastebuds needed ripening from the original coke and a polishing by the diet coke. Perhaps, the lemon diet coke had to spin out my tastebuds before I could really appreciate the tannins and the oak. Let's see?There is something peppery as the wine fills the bread with its taste. Like a sponge sucking up water?

I have been trying to make that 10kb picture of myself for the ricebowljournal.com site, but I have been failing miserably. I guess I just don't have the werewithal to learn Photoshop 7. Hmm, I really should do that since I will need to create my own website someday. I have asked for help from the winds. I am sure that with perseverance and some time, I'll have made the jpg. Update: I finally managed to make a jpg with less than 10K in data. Let's see how I compete now that my cute persona has a face.