Letters from Russia, mixed-media epistolary literature project, 2004
In 2004, I created a mixed-media creative writing project called “Letters from Russia” which was meant to be a series of well,… *obviously* letters written from Russia from the point of view of a cobbler in Napoleon’s army to his lover in France. All in all an unlikely and complicated conceit conceived as was a way to discuss various topics around love and war.
Appropriately, was written/crafted as part of a program at Evergreen State College called “Poets and Philosophers Discuss Love and War” which was my final “seminar” (at Evergreen, you don’t take courses and classes, rather programs and seminars and independent contracts and other non-traditional interdisciplinary learning contexts). This program involved going to Lake Crescent on Olympic Peninsula with three faculty members with different specialties – philosophy, history and poetry/creative writing – staying in cabins, doing the Evergreen-ubiquitous group projects and assignments of various kinds but also working on an individual big project amidst mediation.
Unsurprisingly, I was keen to do something “big” to finish off my hard won Bachelor of Arts degree which spanned 17 years and four or five colleges/universities depending on how you count them. A “capstone” of a sort. {digression: previously thought a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing was my path and with that would come a big project/thesis or whatever, since that wasn’t going to happen, wanted to do something that felt like similar for personal satisfaction}
So, at the idyllic lakefront surrounding, i diligently worked along on this complicated house of cards – in between long stretches of partying, drinking racks of beer, usual herbs, one guy brought a motorboat and a gun – I mean none of it made sense.
I did a few of the assigned assignments (writing something about explaining peace to a banana slug or other contrived drudgery) while putting this project together in my head. I could imagine the finished product: wanted an “artifact” with tactility and vague sense of authenticity despite it being completely fictional.
sparks of inspiration and outline
The finished result was series of letters written on different pieces of paper stock from my suitcase stationery stash, compiled to create the feeling that the protagonist “Henri” (all the characters were named after French Canadian hockey players) was with the army, scavenging any kind of paper he could find, and using different sorts of writing materials. Then I added a series of illustrations, paintings, other visual expressions in various medium and styles (and worked in the character of an Italian conscript with his unit who is a painter as an excuse to include these paintings).
let’s write in cursive with inky fountain pens on handmade paper, such authentic-ness
I wrote some test letters (readers may notice original drafts used a different name for the recipient of the letters) to try out some different papers, handwriting styles, pens and to find my rhythm. Once I found my rhythm it all came together very quickly but finding that vibe and materials and to start was a real challenge.
My Doctor – who is a practitioner of seitai (a Japanese healing modality, not quite Reiki, shiatsu, acupressure, chiropractic nor massage – but a little bit like each of them for lack of a better explanation) has become a very pleasant friend as we bond over a mutual affection for vinyl. In fact he gifted me the magnificent Yamaha GT 2000 turntable. He also seems to enjoy my art projects and displays a few of my pieces around his otherwise serene office.
I’ve wanted to spend some time with him just listening to records so he can see the beautiful machine in action in the now tidied up, electrical and cooler-equipped kura storehouse studio – and today was that day.
Commemorative postcard, view 2
We listened to parts of seven different records (Debussy, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Jerry Garcia, John Coltrane, Nat King Cole), gently looked through several scrapbooks (Shimane, Kyoto, Nepal), enjoyed coffee and gelato and he enjoyed at least seven cigarettes.
He signed the guestbook (again as he is a two time visitor) and I made him a commemorative card for the occasion involving elements connected to the various conversations we enjoyed together.
Commemorative postcard, view 3
If you’re curious, the reverse side is a print of an oil pastel painting of a brilliantly orange (like the envelope) house near my Ayurveda hospital in Kerala, India. Not my best painting but it was the first time I’d made a painting in several years after the “illness“ started and my brain started firing again. Thailand and Nepal are also included as they were part of my healing ramble #Ongoing
Also sent him home with a bunch of table grapes and a Corona melon, yes really.
Painting, magnifying glass, hat and poster – not necessarily commemorative
I should’ve snapped a picture of the both of us together but here is a hat purchased in Port Townsend Washington instead (with a Jean Smith painting and a Tintin Expo 86 poster behind).
Catching up on my/our miraculous life, yonder back in December 2021 amidst preparation for Christmas and a few of their ongoing projects, we went to see an exhibit of one of our favourite artists, Noriko Miyake who is just about to head out for creative sojourn in Paris.
The exhibit was in a great coffee shop in which was on board with placemats, menus, table flags and other treats to make the exhibit completely immersive. There was even art hanging in the toilet (yup, we purchased one, a wild collage) and in the hallways (yup bought one from there as well, a sort of jellyfish kite).
always fun with these 2
Then, you climb a very steep dangerous staircase (watch your head! gonk!) and head into a room FILLED with painted, stuffed and sewn vulvas, yup! Cozy up and lounge in the splendor. We all enjoyed and have one at home now.
Three beverages One snack plate Olympia, Greece, 2017
These photos surfaced when I mailed a postcard to a friend of a painting of a postbox – juxtaposed by a café table – in Olympia, Greece 2017.
postcard of café and postbox in Olympia, Greece (cropped) – delivered to Massachusetts
Sent a postcard to a pal in the Berkshires. He asked me “what’s the story here?“
#
Olympia, Greece… Home (obviously) of the ancient Olympic games and all the various ruins, tracks, museums, artifacts etc.… but i got off the bus quickly early when we passed a “just right“ café with a couple of tiny tables out front, in the back were old men playing backgammon and drinking Ouzo at 10 AM / The thick armed boss brought me a wonderful little variety plate along with sturdy espresso.
Fortified, I scribbled & mailed postcards, watched people hurriedly walk by, saw the throngs leave by buses from the Olympic site, sauntered up there and looked around by myself – On the way, I looked at some rental listings to think about just staying indefinitely… that’s sort of “just right“ size town that I enjoy – instead paid too much for a taxi back (sat in the front seat) to catch the ship in time >> met a pal named Nikos playing a Tzouras, I sent him postcards just to complete the circle.
There’s a cat in this empty road as well… (Or was there?)
The original painting was sketched in situ in Greece and then combined with a postbox and painted with acrylics on Nusa Ceningan, Indonesia along with my darling wife.
Painting juxtaposing a post box with a café table and snack plate in Olympia, Greece
As such, found the inspiration shots and then found the geo-location and Google Earth screenshot where you can see someone sitting in the chair where I sat making the painting. It’s all very recursive.
Πραξιτέλη Κονδύλη 32, Archea Olimpia 270 65, Greece (next droo/ downstairs of Hotel Appolon, at which sometime, i will stay for a forthnight, perhaps)
Take a (sped up) ride up Takisakiyama single track funicular train dealio in Oita, Japan (near Beppu Onsen in Kyushu) with monkeys frolicking on the tracks. Also, a painting (by me) of the funciular (or funiculaire if you prefer) in action.
At the end of the line are 2 troops of 100s of monkeys who run the mountain like crime lords but you only get 1 snap of a sweet mamma and kiddo.
funiculaire paintings in process (Quebec City and Japan)
Just put together for space cruise for my funicular loving pals with music snippets by Daniel Allen (aurora sect) and enhanced train noise samples from Sri Lanka to go along with the Japanese PA announcements.
I hate mowing lawns worse than anything and I did it twice today.
Gravelly Beach, (off of Steamboat Island Rd.) Puget Sound – Bernice’s house, 2005
After a long hayfever delirium, shower, nap … now awake in yukata robe, loosley tied – a wee bit tattered since I acquired 1992 at a Tottori hot spring.
Painting on backporch, almost out of colors so the sky is purple and swirly with white and tetch of black. Last of blue goes for water and only green is toolight for dark trees but I slap it on anyhow.
On back porch listening to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 – cannons and timpani and chimes. Oh yeah it is July 3rd so american fervor is fever pitched and fireworks spurt over the hills from several angles. I hardly notice under the wave of music – heck in Japan I saw fireworks which make joebob and his stash from the tribal stand look weak!
Of course the rest of the world is at bar-b-q parties and parking lots watching skies for color but I am best trying to savor the last of this tranquil hide-away before Bernice returns next week.
My studio is aclutter with 13 projects in process as I scramble to get stuff to a “sort done enough” mode to put on hold of a month or a decade. A healthy sized wooden frame stretched and staple with hemp canvas piled now with a barrage of Belize bric a brac – postcards, painting and pics amongst transport tickets, government stubs, and shells. europa painting (acrylics) hanging here and there – seems close but all needing time to refine, but not tame, the spontaneity of the composition and stroke.
Gravelly Beach series of oils are here and there (some larger than others) but mostly dry but some unfinished – oil take so long to dry I am not sure if I should make another pass on them now – yes i’d best whilst still here and can work en plein in the heat of moment.
Scrapbooks unfinished, notebooks partially filled, papers to go in binders, things to burn, people to leave, things to sell, give, lose, wrap.
Rim shot fireworks, candles flicker in the breeze, 3 round candles with stands found while packing – or rather sorting stuff from one house to store at another awaiting sale. Can’t exactly “move” unless a destination has been established: Deep Cove, a community in North Vancouver looking likely – a New Belgian beer and chai tea in ceramic mug complete the table tableau.
In breaks of action, ohhs and ooohs bounce across the water – strange since I *never* hear anyone and the distance is hard to tell in the inky air. Drum circle bounces across, past the commercial fishing boat moored up for partying, from Cooper Point hippie hoe down, a neighbour cranks Boz Scagg’s Lido Shuffle which always (along with a certain Fleetwood Mac song) reminds me of 3rd grade afternoons at a baseball park, sneaking in woods with … {sigh}
so much history right here for me and all of it witnessed by this glorious gingko tree – photo by Ryoko Olson, painting by me
A journey of 30 years starts with a single act quitting a terrible mushroom farmer job and hitchhiking to a cow farm to shakedown gear & head into eveywhere.
Years later, you meet a remarkable girl, throw a raging party with international renegades, goats are swapped for the cows, the espresso is top shelf and the gingko tree measures the changes.
Postcards available on site (at Rural Caprine Farm, Mac Kobayashi, farmer)
PS in reply to a comment, keeping here for keeping:
Yeah travel gets complicated and strangely enough, amongst all the “public health conundrums” and just been in one place for a long time, I’ve had the most incredible 18 months of my life, I almost just accidentally. But Japan is a wonderful place to visit, it’s easy to get around and such a variety of geography and culture and everything from ultra-modern to old-timey coexisting next to each other.By the way, in my endless folder of “almost finished but not quite” essays to put up on my website is a practical guide to traveling while dealing with chronic/complex illness… A few airport/airplane/travel hacks (for lack of a better word) I’ve used to skate around the world while dealing with #MECFS etc
My world switches rapidly between black and white and Technicolor depending on the hour. Do you have this one in your collection yet? Do you know anytime you see something of mine you’d like, I’ll make you a postcard of it. I’d like to imagine I’m on your refrigerator
I sought permission to go out of the house to explore the neighbourhood, and after a while, she relented, warning me of the intense heat. I made a few oil pastel paintings of neighbouring houses which were all “sherbet coloured“ with lime greens, tangerine oranges and lavender which I found delightful.
i stepped out to make oil pastel painting and quickly made pals / note my awsum disposable clothes
Me and Mr. Mohammed the Ayurvedic practitioner at Dr. Veena’s Ayurmantra in Kerala, India
What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin/Kochi, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques. Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff.
Please watch the “Healing Ramble, introduction” video for context on this series. Importantly, this is not meant to be a travelogue or creative writing exercise, just laying out my experience as it came to me. I may include some links to other projects or creations that came out of this, maybe… I’m not there yet.
This entry, from Thrippunithura (Kochi), Kerala, India (wiki), late 2016 and was written during my stay and in the weeks following – hence possible tense shifting and “note-style”. For the record: it’s nowJune 2021, i live in Japan, am stable if far from “normal”. No advice or sympathy requested or accepted. Carry on.
Thrippunithura, Kerala, India , Nov. 2016
Intro: On my healing journey, I had tried most every possible medical modality to find some relief, and was determined to try everything which showed reasonable promise a benefit.
A friend from Dubai recommended Ayurveda as a natural and holistic approach, and in a fog – truly, in a really difficult point in my healing process, I investigated 20+ Ayurvedic clinics in India and Sri Lanka – very rapidly and without knowing what i was doing really…, received all manner of different replies, prices and recommendations.
my first cup of Chai in India! such splendid heaven for a dime
I settled on Dr. Veena’s Ayurmantra the province/state of Kerala, India due her excellent clear communications and no nonsense approach to the clinic (some seemed dodgy, others were “resorts for yuppies” with very high rates, most told me to “call” and i am not a phone calling type).
Settling-in
I flew from Thailand (after time doing a load of tests at a hospital in Phitsanulok) to Kochi (aka Cochin), spent two nights in an airport hotel recovering in a bath {note: will share travel tips later in the series}, venturing out only to drink coconut (below) and tea (above) and rolled by taxi to the clinic – exhausted, demoralized, confused but open to anything.
stepping out into “all of the India” to drink a coconut
The clinic was run by a whip smart woman named Dr. Veena who was sometimes assisted by her husband, a jovial tall thin man named Dr. Hemesh who worked at a regional Ayurveda hospital requiring a long bus ride for him every day. Such chemistry between them ;)
I lived in-patient in this facility for three weeks. My room was simple with the bed, wardrobe and desk and a wet bathroom. For much of the time, I was the only patient in their small three-story facility. Other times, there was a couple from Malaysia.
They also had a wonderful 3-year-old daughter who spent the day with relatives and came home welcoming me with a best hug calling me “Uncle”. The staff included a house lady, and a practitioner, a short Muslim man with a moustache – though almost every man the state of Kerala had a moustache. My 3 week, intensive, in-patient program of traditional Ayurvedic treatments was designed to address chronic pain, pain and heaviness in legs, reduced/uneven sleep. The treatments consisted of various massages with medicated oils, plus inhalations, purging, dripping medicated oil/milk on forehead, eyewashes … plus specific food for body’s needs, meditation time, stretching and a variety of herbal medications.
assorted Ayurvedic medications i took “to go” at the end of my treatment cycle along with Dr Veena’s handwritten direction
Left with 2 month program of medications (capsules, liquids, ghee, powders…) and advice to avoid cold, avoid acidic food and meat, do yoga stretching and breathing exercises. Day-to-Day
Shirodhara vessel for gently pouring liquids over the forehead
