Mindbuzz: VONA Day One Reportback

Today was the first full day of my Voices of Our Nations (VONA) novel workshop experience, and two hours after I've left campus and my comrades-in-writing, my mind is still buzzing from all the great conversations, critique and cameraderie I experienced--just in one day.

I feel as if I've spent the morning in intense meditation: as I walked down the street to my house from the bus stop, the air seemed clearer and more crisp, I noticed the elderly Korean couple walking slowly arm in arm with their big black German shepherd, I heard the small and large sounds of everyday living around me that I normally take for granted. I felt as if my brain had been tuned to a new frequency, my awareness heightened after the morning workshop with Chitra Divakaruni and the other novelists in the room.

I have to admit, after the orientation yesterday for VONA I left feeling a bit apprehensive and fearful about what this experience would be like. The words 'life-changing', 'intense' and 'extroardinary' were bandied about by VONA faculty and alums alike, making me wonder whether I would have a nervous breakdown this week--not what I was planning.

But I'm getting it now: the passion and commitment of the other writers (all writers of color, for VONA is exclusively for us) is truly intense and beautiful, especially for me because it's been a rare experience for me to feel kinship with other writers in a supportive, non-competitive way. It's fuckin' great.

And it was pretty cool to get this feedback from folks about my sci-fi/fantasy novel-in-progress:

"This is really well written...Your language is beautiful" (from Chitra!)
"I found myself captivated and drawn in by the story"
"Wow! Very nice! Sci-fi! I was riveted"

We got into an interesting discussion about the sometimes-assumed 'responsibility' of writers of color to write about our culture, about race and politics, etc. One of Chitra's comments particularly struck me: "It's not so much about the milieu we write in [whether contemporary fiction or sci-fi or whatever] but about the concerns that we bring to our work." (I'm paraphrasing; hopefully you get the point)

The folks in my workshop are an eclectic and intriguing lot: a former journalist for the Chicago Tribune who lives in Guadalajara and rents rooms to writers and tourists; a globe-trotting Hemingway admirer who recently returned to the States from a writing/reading stint in Chile; a young Latina writer from Oakland who is working on a complex family drama novel told from the perspectives of two sisters and their daughters. And that's just a few of them. I feel privileged to be in their company and happy to be sharing with all of them the gift of our writing.

More to come,
In Peace,
Rona

Quicklinks

Thanks to Gura, found the Pinoy Cook web site.

Got to give props to Caffe Roma in North Beach, where I am now enjoying a smooth cup of cappucino and free wi-fi.

One more: where to find free wi-fi cafes in San Francisco.

Deeper thoughts soon to come...

Oh yeah, Happy Pride!!

Rona

What I'll Miss About San Francisco

So I haven't mentioned in my blog yet that H. and I found a new place--we're heading back to the East Bay, and I have to say I'm really happy. Originally, we were only going to live out in Frisco for a year until his business got up and running, but it's been a year and seven months and I'm ready for some sunshine, warmer temperatures, the laidback Oaktown vibe, and a 20-minute 'commute' to work versus an hour-and-a-half one.

But there are some things I'll truly miss about living in SF. Not that we won't be here all the time--I don't think H. could stay away for even a few days, and I've gotten so used to the conveniences and attractions that set Frisco apart from Oakland and all the other cities in the Bay Area to stay away for long either. So what'll I miss? Let me count the things...

-Serendipitous access to art venues and other creative attractions. For example, last weekend we checked out the free Intersection for the Arts 40th anniversary celebration block party, which took up the long block on Valencia between 16th and 17th. We saw the Marcus Shelby Trio perform, got to peep some YouthSpeaks poets, but didn't get to see Ntozake Shange because she cancelled at the last minute. Bummer. But we did also get to see a fine exhibit of anniversary-related art in the gallery on the top floor of the Intersection building. H. took home a poster from the blood-red punkesque mural that featured the words 'Jello Biafra v. Dianne Feinstein v. Quentin Kopp'. How San Francisco.

-Another time, H. and I stumbled quite on accident (we were on our way to Trader Joe's for mundane grocery shopping) a Dia de los Muertos exhibit at SOMArts, consisting of some amazing altars by local artists, including one memorial to Frisco residents who had been killed by gun violence in the previous year.

-Last artsy example: Tonite I stopped by theVoices/VONA faculty reading (again, free!) at USF to hear Junot Diaz, Elmaz Abinader, David Mura and Jimmy Santiago-Baca read. Just five minutes away from my house. I'll be in my Novel workshop with VONA next week, and glad that I'll have to take the 38L to Arguello instead of all the way downtown (oops, I'm supposed to talk about what I like about San Francisco).

-The food. Did you know that San Francisco has more restaurants per capita than Paris? Or something like that. The grub in this town is really off the chain. Whether you're jonesing for cheap Thai take-out (King of Thai) or chi-chi gourmet raw vegan food (Millenium), late-night Chinese food (China First on Clement is our current favorite) or slammin' Italian food (North Beach or Richmond district, for starters), Frisco's really got it all. There's also this spot for hardcore carnivores called Espetus Churrascaria, a Brazilian-style barbecue place, that I've been wanting to try. Well, okay, Oakland does have an edge on SF when it comes to barbeque overall, but we won't get into that now.

-The beaches. From China Beach to Baker Beach to Ocean Beach to North or South Beach (okay, those last two aren't really beaches but they are close to the water and have great views), SF's got the best access to beautiful ocean views of any urban area I've been to. Even when the ocean is covered or obscured by fog, you can't beat a drive down the Great Highway.

-The cafes. There must be at least five times as many cafes in San Francisco than in Oakland and Berkeley combined. Which means you can always find a spot to park your booty and grab a cup o' joe (or tea or chai or whatever you're into) and write or chill or people watch or whatever. My favorite cafe spots in Frisco? La Boheme on 24th and Mission for the eclectic and gritty experience; Crossrooads Cafe in Southbeach for a chill vibe and quick access to waterfront walkways; Mario's Bohemian in North Beach to write in and get a nice view of Washington Square park; and Bazaar Cafe's backyard patio and free wi-fi is my pick for the rare sunny, warm day in the Richmond district.

But even with all that said, I can't wait to move back to Oakland. I'm an East Bay girl at heart. But I think at least a small part of my heart will be left behind in San Francisco when I migrate back across the Bay Bridge.

Peace,
Rona

Multitasking Me

Got to send out props to the ever-insightful and observant Max Elbaum, who wrote in a comment to my previous post that I could become a columnist if I really focused my energy on achieving that goal. Max—who is a published writer in his own right—observes that I seem to have 'other priorities' right now, which is true. But it's not just true right now, it seems to be true at every other point in my life. I just always have a lot going on, and can never be happy focusing on one thing at a time. What can I say, I'm a classic multitasker.

One of the reasons why I don't feel I could 'just' focus on my writing is that, in order for me to feel connected to the issues I care about—such as, say, racial inequality in public institutions or the erosion of a woman's right to choose how to create (or not create) her family—I need to be engaged with them on more than just an intellectual level. While interviewing folks for articles about said issues is one way to stay 'connected' to what's actually going on in people's lives 'on the ground', I have to say that I'm not sure if that would be enough for me to feel like I'm really part of a movement to create a better world.

About five years ago, my day job—which took up most of my time—used to be working for a national trade association of independent, mostly progressive/social justice-oriented, publications like The Nation and the SF Bay Guardian, etc. And although I did and still do believe that those publications are crucial parts of a broad social justice movement, I have to say that doing that work, stuck in my office most of the time, and hardly ever working with or around folks of color, low-income folks, immigrants, youth, etc., was horribly unfulfilling. The independent, progressive media in this country is still woefully white (and privileged and male, in terms of leadership), despite my old organization's efforts to make it more diverse and multicultural.

Could I make a living as a columnist/freelance writer/journalist/left-wing pundit? Possibly. Do I want to? I don't think so. At least not now, or at least not on a full-time basis. Opportunities have presented themselves, but I have to say I'm pretty happy working at an organization I love, getting to raise money for an organization that helps young people of color, mostly working class, in Oakland, in San Jose, in Fresno and Long Beach and San Diego and beyond, can have the opportunity to bring their marginalized voices to the broader public debate about their schools, about their lives. Knowing that my work directly impacts the ability of thousands of people all over the state to have a say in the public policies that affec them directly makes me feel incredibly proud, happy and fulfilled. I feel it's part of my calling to live my values through my work in this way.

Does that mean I can't be a creative or political writer, and a published one at that? Of course not. It just might mean, though, that my writing career won't take shape in a very consistent, linear way—more likely, it'll grow in fits and spurts, especially during those times when I'm lucky enough to get paid for my writing, or when my activist work on education issues and fundraising converges with my writing talents.

But that's okay with me. I have the writing of my novel and some short story projects to sustain me creatively, this blog to sustain my political writings and get my words out to a small degree in the blogosphere, and the random opportunity to do an interview or write an article for an activist rag. And that's okay for me, for now.

But who knows what the future might hold? Maybe I will follow in the foosteps of a Rodel Rodis or Emil Guillermo, with a Pinay twist. Maybe I'll become the Juan Gonzalez or Arundhati Roy of my generation. The future is full of possibilities, and I'm not ruling out any of them. All I know is that, for now, I'm perfectly happy where I am. And that's a blessing that I'm not quite ready to risk losing. Not just yet.

Peace,
Rona

Warning: Inconclusive ramblings follow.

Random musings on this somewhat anti-climactic Philippine Independence Day. One-hundred-seven years after the Aguinaldo's Kawit declaration, and where are we as a nation, as a Filipino diaspora? Recent polling shows that President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is the least popular president since Ferdinand Marcos. Recently, Rep. Liza Maza introduced legislation meant to lift the ban on divorce in the Philippines. How far have we come?

I read an interesting column by Emil Guillermo in AsianWeek the other day, lambasting the 49ers for their training video, which contained a buck-toothed Asian man chonging it up a la Mickey Rooney in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. To quote Sin La Salle in 'Be Cool' after he shoots a Russian gangster for twice calling him a n*gger: "Racial epithets. Why must it always come down to that? Makes me sad for my daughter."

Emil's a good writer. I like his stuff, generally. Articulate, well-thought out arguments, fairly progresive politics. I've read a few of Rodel Rodis' columns in Philippine News. I like some of his stuff too. Makes me wonder where the Pinays (especially Fil-Ams) are in this whole columnist biz. Don't know of any that have gained the prominence of an Emil or Rodel. And the interesting feedback I've been getting about my essay that appeared in Phil News makes me think: "Why couldn't I be a columnist?" I already write this blog, right? Heh.

I realized the other day that I haven't been writing about much political news on this blog. Perhaps it's because I work in a non-profit that does pretty cutting-edge, progressive social change work. Meaning, I have plenty of people around me all the time whom I can politick with. Today, for example, I coordinated a fabulous house party for my organization, Californians for Justice, where a bunch of activists got together to hear about our work, listen to a youth leader from Oakland High School speak, and give us some cash. It's nice to be in those spaces, where we can feel completely comfortable with our politics around race, class, gender, etc.

But it was also nice to be in a place where I was challenged a bit around my politics—my friend T.'s wedding in Sacramento. T. is Chinese-Vietnamese, was forced to immigrate here when she was a child because of the Vietnam War. T. married S., a fellow Chinese-Vietnamese refugee. They were joined at their wedding banquet by 500 family, friends and well-wishers. The program was in Cantonese and English. The crowd was probably at least 90% immigrants or children of immigrants. It was a trip, but a cool one. And the food, damn, don't get me started. All I'll say is: Twelve course Chinese banquet. Abalone. Walnut Prawns. Peking Duck. You get the picture.

Because of the wedding and the house party, I've spent more time in a car this weekend than I have in months. I'm tired, and ready to grub on some homemade pasta and roasted asparagus.

G'night, folks-
Rona

Eating Out

It's really been all about food in restaurants this weekend, which is nice since I've been trying to bring lunch to work from home and cook more. Eating out now feels like a reward instead of just an expensive necessity. Started the weekend early by eating out for all my meals on Friday. First, had Shan Dong for late lunch on Friday with V. and H., then crossed the street for a taro pearl drink, on V.'s recommendation. The milk was not too heavy or creamy, tasted very fresh. Yum. It was good to catch up with globe-trotting V., who recently witnessed some racial profiling/police harassment at a Giants' game.

Dinner that night was at Red Sea with M., whom I also hadn't seen in forever. It was a gorgeous day on Friday in Oakland, and the sun shining through the slats in the blinds at the restaurant made me feel like I was tanning while sipping my honey wine and eating stewed collard greens with injera. Double yum.

Today, H. and I had lunch with his mom and sister for said sister's birthday at Kamakura, which I haven't been to in ages. Decent sushi, not quite fresh enough for the prices they were charging. But I didn't have to pay for it, so that was nice. Stuffed myself silly with spicy tuna, oshinko, New York and Hollywood (tuna, avocado, cucumber and tobiko, I think) rolls. Triple yum.

Then for dinner tonite we had standard Chinese food at H.'s dad's favorite spot in Potrero Hill. Sorry, not gonna give up the restaurant name--gotta keep some places secret, eh?

I think tomorrow we'll take a break from restaurant food--maybe I'll make pancakes with fruit compote and maple syrup, scrambled eggs and turkey sausage for breakfast instead. Quadruple yum.

Happy eating,
Rona

Happy Writing News

I got accepted into the Voices workshop, a week-long writing residency for people of color that happens every year at the University of San Francisco. One of my favorite writers, Junot Diaz, is one of the masterminds behind the program, which I've heard many excellent things about from fellow writers. I'm so juiced! I'll be in a novel workshop with Chitra Divakaruni, which is dope!

I had an essay published in Philippine News recently, and have been getting some lovely feedback on it from folks I never thought I'd be able to reach with my writing, like an old family friend whose son I used to play with when we were babies. My Tagalog prof, Dr. Paz, gave me big-ups in class about it which spurred some of my classmates to read it too. I have to admit it's not my best writing but I'm glad it's out there and that my words are settling in people's minds.

I also started taking a fiction writing class at the Writing Salon with Junse Kim, whose quite skilled teacher. Last week we focused on conflict and how character's desires move scenes along. Next week, we'll be dealing with dialogue. Good stuff.

And I've been carving more time out for my writing overall. I've finally gotten over the fantasy that a fascinating, eloquent novel will spill forth from my mind and my fingertips when the elusive 'muse' strikes. Learning and mastering the craft of storytelling, as Junse says, is like exercising muscles to make them stronger, it only comes through practice, practice, practice.

A Whole 'Nother Level...

...of existence. I'm writing this blog while sipping earl gray tea sweetened with half-and-half and brown sugar and sitting out on the sundrenched garden patio of my neighborhood cafe, Bazaar, taking full advantage of their wi-fi network and eavesdropping on my cafe-mates' conversations. It's a frickin' gorgeous day, even in the Richmond district in Frisco, where usually the fog and cold makes me wish that I had brought an extra sweater with me in the morning.

I just finished working on my novel for about an hour, which is the longest chunk of time I'd had to write in a couple weeks. It feels good. So does working on my tan while clicking away on my new baby, whom I have not christened with an official name yet, just silly little nicknames that I will not divulge on this blog.

Going to head out to Oaktown soon to watch the long-awaited Episode III with Gura & Co. I've heard is at least better than Episodes 1 & 2. I guess genius does fade over time. But at least this is the last time we'll have to be tortured by bad love scenes set in front of a CGI backdrop.

Maybe after tonite I'l have more evidence to help flesh out my theory that Yoda is Filipino. (short, flipped grammar, kick-butt martial artist--need I say more?)

Tanning and blogging away,
Rona

Keeping My Mind Open

Finally getting a chance to read Pema Chodron...

"...I encourage the audience to keep an open mind. This is often likened to the wonder of a child seeing the world without preconceptions. As the Zen Master Suzuki Roshi put it, 'In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few."--from Pema Chodron's The Places That Scare You

I've always had a hard time when I'm not 'in the know' about topics, scenes, people. We all like to know what's going on, yes? I have a particular insecurity about being perceived as someone who's not in the loop. As I get older and more chilled out--or as I try to chill out more--I realize that being a 'beginner' and not knowing everything is actually a state of mind to aspire to. It keeps my mind open to the joys of learning new things, the possibilities of the moment.

Peace,
Rona

Around the Blogosphere

It says something that the only time I have lately to blog is while I'm on a mini-vacation (following a weekend training I co-conducted for GIFT). I'm in Southern California, not quite LA, but not quite Santa Barbara. The weather is warm and humid and I want to take showers twice a day. It's nice to have a little break after a whirlwind of work, computer-buying happiness, travel and more work, and to hang out with my good friend G. and her family.

We're in a largely agricultural area outside of Santa Barbara, and when you step outside the air smells of a strangely soothing combination of ocean mist, dark soil and manure. Makes me feel closer to nature, realizing that not far from where I sit there are people working in the fields planting, picking and tending the crops of vegetables that I may eat someday.

Now that I have some time to sit, breathe, and check out blogs on my new laptop, I find some golden nuggets of wisdom...

...from El Serenito, insight into why I have always been drawn to music and people from Latin America (for me, Mexico, Cuba and Puerto Rico are the main lures). I have a Salvadoran friend who always tells me, 'You're Latina. Filipinos are Latino" in his characteristically cocky and flippant way. I've always known we share a history of colonization with our hermanas/os in the Spanish-speaking world, but Serenito breaks it all down in a whole new way.

...and way over in China, Priscilla is studying away, hangin' out with Vkdir, and forgetting English. Just don't forget about us, girl!

...from Cathy, some pics and news from the recent border protests against the Arizona Minutemen, who are, collectively, nothing but racist terrorist vigilantes. In a nutshell, they are civilian white men who have taken it upon themselves to go to the border between the US and Mexico to keep 'illegal' immigrants from crossing over. It doesn't help my peace of mind to know that Governor Schwarzeneggar has endorsed these wackos, whom even the US Border Patrol has said are dangerous and should just out da way. Schwarzeneggar is taking cues no doubt from his advisors (who also advised former Governor Pete 'illegal immigrants aren't human' Wilson) to take a hardline stance on immigration in hopes of boosting his plummeting popularity ratings.

...over at Tatang's Karinderia, Rhett, a card-carrying Republican progressive, waxes philosophical about "BushShit Economics".

...over at Utopia, Martin vents his (rightful) outrage at the $1 million bounty that the US government placed on Assata Shakur's head. Assata, a living legend, former Black Panther and revolutionary, is living in Cuba and hasn't bothered anyone as far as I know since she hijacked a plane nearly thirty years ago and landed on the Red Island. But I guess that being Black, radical, female and alive is enough to label you a wanted terrorist in this day and age.

...Gura posts news about the death of Julian Boyd, an English professor at UC Berkeley. I didn't know Professor Boyd either, unfortunately, but it sounds like he was one of those rare college professors (at Cal, anyway) who actually liked teaching students, and was good at it.

...and last but not least, happy birthday wishes go out to Max in DC. One year closer to 30, buddy. Enjoy it while it lasts! ;-)

Hope your forays into the blogosphere are equally enjoyable...I'm gonna go do as the Southern Californians do and soak up some rays before hittin' the mall.

Rona

I'm in Love

Not with a person, or a pet. Not with a concept or an image, a poem or a book or a song or a substance. Nope, I'm in love with something far more insidious yet utilitarian, something that's a little bit bigger than a bread box but smaller than an extra-large pizza: my ultra-sleek-slammin'-dope-funky-fresh-brand-spankin-new-wireless-ready-straight-out-da-box Macintosh 15-inch Powerbook. Aaah, love for inanimate objects can be so oddly obsessive, yet shockingly satisfying.

And I'm not the only one happy about my new purchase. Already, four people have exclaimed 'Congratulations!' when they found out I was a new Powerbook owner. Mac addicts are such geeky/cool creatures.

Happy in Love,
Rona

Totally Cool Coincidences

Coincidence Factor (CF for short) #1: Watching the biopic/religious/historical epic film "Luther", about Martin Luther, the spiritual firebrand theologian who threatened the regal power of the Papacy in 15th century Europe.

CF #2: The week following my viewing of 'Luther', Pope Benedict XVI (formerly Cardinal Josef Ratzinger) was chosen as the successor to St. Peter and the more than two hundred fifty popes who have led the Roman Catholic Church.

CF #3: Staying up late the other night on a whim, I am flipping channels and get the beginning of Pope Benedict's first mass as Pope in St. Peter's Square. I can't really stand looking at his creepy Bela Lugosi eyes and turn it off once they start panning to him every two seconds.

CF #4: Watched 'I Heart Huckabees' last night for the first time. Trippy movie. Made me think a lot about...coincidences.

CF #5: New visitor Ben uses the phrase 'coincidences of ours' in his comment to my last post. Not sure if it's a "Huckabees" reference but close enough. Coincidence!

CF #6: Got this email today from the University of Creation Spirituality/Wisdom University, a New Age-y, eclectic spiritual institute that I'm not big into but that I still respect, mostly because excommunicated former priest (and Bay Area resident) Matthew Fox is their head honcho of sorts. I've met him a couple of times; he's a cool guy, if not a little egotistical, but hey, when someone's the spiritual equivalent of an international rock star, what can one expect?

Here's an excerpt from the email:

"There are many exciting things happening to which I would like to draw to your attention. 

We are developing an extraordinary and provocative strategy for Matt, given the fact that his nemesis Josef Ratzinger is now Pope.  Matt is writing a letter to Ratzinger challenging him to make good on his assertion in his first mass after his installation on April 24th  to "listen to the whole church" by meeting first with all those he expelled or silenced while he was Head of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith. As you know, scores of other leading theologians and priests besides Matt were silenced or expelled by Ratzinger in the squelching of dissent while he was Head of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, including Hans Kung, a German theologian, and Leonardo Boeff, a Brazilian Jesuit.   All of them are being invited to co-sign Fox's letter.

Additionally, Matt is preparing a manifesto called "The New Reformation: Toward a Mature Christianity", in which he proclaims that we are in fact confronted with two churches: one dominated by the image of the punitive father, personified by the long and harsh career of Ratzinger himself and his long suppression of internal dissent, rejection of other religions,
and protection of pedophile priests; and the other expressed by the feminine spirit of Wisdom and personified by a compassionate mother/father god of justice and compassion.  It is time for the church to choose whom it will follow:  an angry exclusionary god or the loving open path of wisdom.

To dramatize his letter and his Proclamation, Matthew will be preaching a sermon on Pentacost Sunday May 15 in Germany near Frankfurt. He will proclaim the need for a new reformation and expound the choices before the church, while inviting the Pope to meet with him and others who like him were silenced or expelled.  If all goes according to plan, he will then travel to Wittenberg, where Martin Luther nailed his ninety-five theses at the Cathedral in 1517, and nail his Proclamation on the same church doors.

From Wittenberg, he will travel to Rome where at the gates of St. Peter's Cathedral he will challenge Ratzinger to a debate about the future of Christianity at this moment of historical crisis and opportunity.

Isn't this totally cool?"

Yes, it is. Totally f**ckin' cool. My meditation-induced hopefulness is gettin' a turbo charge outta this sh*t.

In Peace,
Rona

Slowing Down, Waking Up

It's been an interesting couple of months since I've been relatively blogpost-less...I cut down on reading blogs as well as writing on my own, and it was a good thing. It is always important to take a break from things, even if you love them--and especially if you dislike or get stressed out by them. I've learned the hard way that if things are too difficult for too long, I am doing something wrong, repeating an unhealthy pattern over and over, not learning from my mistakes.

There are so many huge events that have recently transpired in the world, in this particular moment in time in which we are living; things that have inspired passionate arguments between me and my partner, my co-workers, my friends. The Terri Schiavo tragedy (aka the media circus that was created around her and her family's suffering), Pope John Paul II dying, the Papal Conclave taking only a day-and-a-half to choose the new Pope, an arch-conservative who wants to make the Church 'smaller but purer.' So many frightening things, yet I--and we--must figure out where the bright spots are, the rays of hope in the ominous shadows.

Interestingly, H. and I happened to watch the film 'Luther' the weekend before Pope Benedict XVI was chosen. The film is about Martin Luther, founder of the 'Great Reformation' which shook the Roman Catholic Church and spread throughout Europe like wildfire in the 15th (?) century. I spent a good part of the film explaining some of the historical background of Roman Catholic 'indulgences' and other corrupt practices to H., who grew up fairly non-religious and often recoils in shock at the strange Church customs that I grew up with as normal everyday occurrences. It's good to have to explain the culture and customs of the Church to an outsider, because it sheds light on how absurd, illogical and sometimes downright disgusting some of these customs are--and how, in many ways, they are counter to the development of a truly authentic spirituality based on compassion, tolerance, faith and love.

I don't really know what to say about the new Pope, or about the state of the Catholic Church today. Others have quite articulately stated opinions that I wholeheartedly agree with: John Nichols, Leny (thanks for the welcome back and congrats on your new book!) and Rhett (see March 31 and April 6 posts, specifically), for starters. It's healing to hear and read the voices of other progressive Christians / Catholics (recovering or currently active) expressing skepticism, fear or even optimism about the Church's direction. And even though I haven't gone to Mass in months, I still know that the Church is a hugely influential institution in the world, on the one hand, and I still have a deep love for many of the teachings and the lessons I learned growing up in the Church the first eighteen years of my life.

In contrast to my recent thoughts and mixed feelings regarding the future of the Catholic Church, I have been meditating a lot more lately, and recently attended a day-long meditation retreat for people of color activists at Spirit Rock. The retreat inspired and energized me, and strengthened both my interest and faith in Buddhist meditation and the Dharma (the teachings of the Buddha as handed down for the past two-thousand-five-hundred years or so). I felt such peace in sitting, walking and eating meditation (yes, eating--have you ever slowed down and just paid attention to what you were eating instead of reading the paper, talking to your partner or scarfing down your food in five seconds flat? Notice how flavors become more intense?) with my comrades and colleagues, and realized how simple yet profound Buddhist practice is. Breathe, slow down, notice, be present. I just paid attention to what I was doing for the first time in weeks.

I've carried this mindful approach into the rest of my daily life, and I think it's really helping. I feel less judgmental, more compassionate of others, less prone to cling to my angry, unhelpful attitudes and thoughts. I even feel compassion and near-forgiveness for some of the people that I have hated in the past--which doesn't mean I'm rushing out to embrace them and welcome them back into my life, but it feels much better to be more at peace with them in my own mind than to allow myself to be constantly bitter and triggered, and to waste precious energy on spitefulness and negativity that I could put to more positive uses in the worl.

I feel I am awakening to a whole new reality. Sometimes it's a little frightening, but more and more it just makes me feel happy and hopeful that a new, better world is unfolding around me.

In Peace,
Rona

Deadline-free (for now)

Hello there, dear readers. I'm back for a bit from my month of deadline after deadline. Since we last chatted, I won a lil' essay contest (along with some money--woo-hoo!), got myself into an online writers' group for fiction/speculative fiction (or SF for short) writers, and applied for a summer writing workshop that I've been wanting to get into for a few years but never made the time for.

It's been a productive past few weeks, to say the least, and I'm feeling great about my writing. The novel is coming along well, and I finally finished a short story that I started--no kidding--FIVE years ago. Whoa. It felt great to finally put it to bed (for now, at least, until I get it into a workshop so it can get critiqued!).

I've also started going to Kali class again, hoping to make it out there at least once a week. It feels good to spar, to wield my stick and empty hands, to be in community with other martial artists again. I've missed Kali practice, although I think the break from class was necessary too. Sometimes you notice things about your practice that are crucial only when you leave it for awhile. I think this is true for writing, for Kali, for anything.

I am also meditating more lately, partially because it's something I've been telling myself I need to do for my own spiritual well-being, but also partially because of some minor health problems I'm having that the doctors say is caused by anxiety/stress. I've known for a long time that I am a type-A, slightly paranoid stress-case, but I thought I had it all under control (don't we all?)! But seems like my body and mind could use more stillness, so I'll be loggin' more minutes on the ol' meditation cushion.

I hope all is well in your world. Don't forget to stop and breathe once and awhile.

Blessings,
Rona

"Oh, yes, I have a blog....I forgot."

Haven't been blogging much lately. Haven't been much inspired to. I mean, really, life is much more than who won an Oscar for Best Actor, isn't it? That goes to show you that either: 1) My life is supremely boring, or 2) I have better things to do with my life than blog.

I have to admit, dear reader, that the answer is #2. Not to say that I don't value your visits to my humble little blog, or that I don't want to write things that you'll find so terribly interesting that you might leave a comment or have a cafe conversation with a friend about some thought I provoked in your mind. It is, quite simply, just that I have lots of other things on my plate: my novel, for one, which has been occupying a greater space in my mind and my overall consciousness the past few weeks. And that's a good thing. I'm ready to be obsessed with it. I'm ready to dive into researching languages that I can incorporate into my dialogue and my characters' names; I'm down to spend hours lost in the writing of what promises to be a tome of sorts. I'm ready, God/dess. Bring it on.

In addition, I have a couple of other writing projects I need to focus on right now. Deadlines, deadlines, they are a'callin'. I'm trying to pull together an essay for a contest that I desperately want (and need) to win in order to purchase my very own laptop (ah, the very thought of having my own computer--I use H.'s right now--makes me sigh dreamily). And I need to pull together an application and writing sample for a much-longed-for workshop that is coming up this summer. Wish me good luck!

So, gentle reader, I doubt that I'll be blogging much anytime soon. But I'm sure that the blog and web site links I've provided to the left of this text will give you much brain-fodder and textual entertainment to distract you while I'm otherwise occupied. And who knows, maybe you'll go out and start your own blog instead of just reading mine. ;-)

Blessings,
Rona

Now, That's a Winner

Okay, who saw Jamie Foxx accept his much-deserved Oscar award last night? Was it the best award-acceptance speech ever or what? And what about the fact that Jamie--an avowed party animal who no doubt could have brought any stunning model or starlet or groupie with him to the Oscars--brought his daughter with him as his date? Now that's class, that's a suave m**thafu**er if there ever was one. He even almost broke down crying when he talked about his late grandmother, who helped raise him. Definitely raised his star status in my mind.

I was overjoyed that Foxx took home the 'Best Actor' award--almost as overjoyed as when Miss Eva the Diva won the top nod on America's Next Top Model. I do wish Don Cheadle could have also received a best actor award for 'Hotel Rwanda'--even though I don't think his performance was a virtuoso as Foxx's (I mean, Jamie Foxx did have to do an intense piano audition in front of Ray Charles himself to even be considered for the role). But I knew that 'Hotel Rwanda' wouldn't win any Oscars because, let's face it, Hollywood is all about illusions and that movie was just too much reality for most Americans.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't spend every waking hour glued to the boob-tube, but I do watch a fair share of good TV programs (there are a few out there, and I do mean a few, especially since I don't have cable) and good movies. And Jamie Foxx in 'Ray' (as well as 'Collateral', for which Foxx lost to equally deserving Morgan Freeman for best supporting actor) was the SH*T. (FYI, I only caught the last hour of the Oscars--just in time to see Jamie win, along with 'Million Dollar Baby', et al).

More interesting Oscar tidbits here and here, and these aren't fashion reports, folks. I do wish, though, that one of these high-octane Black actors (okay, someone besides Danny Glover) would make it a point to highlight that, despite these gains in the entertainment industry by Black artists, Black people in this country in general are not doing well economically. And not to tarnish the shine on Morgan's or Jamie's golden statuettes, but 'uplifting the race' doesn't mean shit if you don't pull some people up with you.

Surprised, but Not Disappointed

A refreshingly intelligent and thoughtful piece about the real consequences of our increasingly 'luxurious' lifestyle (think: retail therapy at Diesel or Williams-Sonoma). Goes to show that you don't always find what you're looking for in the usual places.

R.

Disappointed, but not Surprised

I rarely hero-ize people these days, unless they're dead. Otherwise, they just disappoint you by doing and saying stupid things that make you cringe and say 'D'OH!'. Here's an example, from still-funny-as-fuck Margaret Cho. Margaret, I love your honesty, but I sure don't admire the fact that you want to be white.

I think I wanted to be white for the majority of my high school career, not because I necessarily thought things would be easier or because I thought I'd 'just be able to show my mad skills', as Miz Cho says, but mostly because I really thought being brown meant being ugly, poor, dirty, etc. Now that's honesty.

Nowadays, I would never want to be white. I mean, who could be white after knowing how much behind-their-backs shit-talking people of color still do about white folks? And I'm even (I'm especially talking about) the people of color that seem to kiss white people's asses, the ones that seem like the classic 'Uncle Tom' types. They talk hella shit, and always behind white folks' backs, then turn around and smile to their faces so they can keep their jobs, privileges, relationships and twisted power intact.

I, for one, have generally favored the shit-talking-to-your-face approach with white folks. Much more honest and productive, doncha think?

Some thoughts for the day,
Rona

A Wine By Any Other Name...

...is still a wine, no? Sorry, sometimes I can't come up with interesting or catchy titles ("Does she ever?" you ask with raised eyebrow). But today did turn out to be a 'wine day' of sorts.

At lunchtime at work today--my co-workers and I all eat together and generally have a grand time conversating and chowing down--we somehow ended up on the topic of good cheese, and then, inevitably, good wine. D. asked what our favorite cheeses of the moment are. "Ah," I thought, "a question made for me!" I replied that lately I prefer sheep's milk cheeses, like pecorino toscano or romano, which have distinctly different flavors but are both made of sheep's milk (I believe that's what 'pecorino' denotes in Italian). C. said she loves gouda, while D. professed a fancy for gruyere.

And then the conversation turned to wine, and E. talked about V. Sattui Winery in St. Helena, which always seems to host a disproportionate number of people of color, making it one of my favorite spots in the Napa Valley. And despite the fact that E. says that more snobbish wine-lovers think of V. Sattui as uncouth and low-class, I've had some great wine-tasting experiences there. Like the time an older man behind the tasting counter said that he liked the winery's Sauvignon Blanc to two young women, who asked him why he liked it. I guess they thought he'd wax philosophical about hints of kiwi and notes of grassy lime in the wine, but he simply shrugged in response and said, 'I just like it!"

As part of our wine conversation at lunch today, I also talked about my birthday dinner at Absinthe Brasserie in Hayes Valley, where H. treated me to the best dinner out that I've ever had (really, I'm not exaggerating). We asked the sommelier to recommend something from Absinthe's extensive wine list (it was something like 8 pages long and divided by region, I think). H. had ordered the coq au vin (super-delicious) and I had ordered the special dungeness crab (equally super-delicious) so the sommelier recommended a Pinot Gris (sorry wine-snobs, I don't remember the name of the winemaker or the year--my bad!) from Alsace, France, which is renowned for this varietal. Well, the bottle was forty bucks, more than I've ever spent on a bottle of wine, but I said, 'What the hell, I'm never gonna turn 33 again!" and we ordered it.

Oh, God. I don't think I'd ever really known what it tasted like to have such a well-matched wine and food combination. It was fuckin' delicious. I'm not very good about saying what flavor-notes a wine brings forth (pear? melon? lemongrass? Isn't wine made out of grapes?), but I can say that every dollar that we spent that night was well worth it. And although I can't afford to buy any wine that costs more than $15 a bottle max on a regular basis, it's good to know that I can experience gastronomic nirvana again sometime in the near future. I do live in San Francisco, after all, which I've read has more restaurants per capita than any city in the world except Paris.

Now, if you want to be a real wine connoisseur you should woo your way into a viticultural (or is it oenophilic?) apprenticeship with Miz Chatty, but if you're just a lay person like me you might learn something from Tatang as well. His SO, Gura, accompanied him on a wine tasting trek in the Amador Valley, and T. had some things to say, let me tell you! Gura seemed to have a more mellow approach to wine tasting. I'd have to say my own wine-tasting attitudes fall somewhere in between.

And tonite, I treated myself to a couple glasses of a decent pinot noir that H. bought a couple weeks ago. We sipped it during a dinner of homemade pasta with tomato and onion sauce and some roasted asparagus (unfortunately, I don't think the wine went well with the asparagus; I noticed an icky alcoholic scent in my glass after I'd just eaten the asparagus, and the wine tasted bitter and .

I spent a few minutes after dinner perusing a handy little web site, EatDrinkDine.com, which seems somewhat simplistic but is still helpful for wine novices like myself. I don't think I'll become a real connoisseur anytime soon, but I stlll enjoy a good quaff of liquid gold now and then. A small, simple, but blessed pleasure in this big, crazy world.

Drink well and be happy,
Rona

Love

Dear Gentle Reader,

Silly me. I sent silly Valentine's day e-cards to a bunch of friends, to my co-workers, to acquaintances, yet I neglected my blog audience, who certainly deserves my love and affection since you continue to return day by day to read my words, put up with my meandering thoughts and hopelessly idealistic moralizing. I thank you and wish you love and affection (a day late, as it were), dear reader, for including me in your blog wanderings and for considering me in your thoughts.

And, of course, I wish you love simply because you are, and I am. Because we exist on this mortal plane and it is a good--and necessary, in these dark days--thing to love one another.

Blessings,
Rona