i-quanyin's photostream

i'm irish. i bond with aina/tara. i'm attentive. I reject cars.

i'm alive. i love movement. hula, belly, crermonial, trance, rave,
ballroom, modern...

I reject all cars do, all they demand, destroy, alter, and facilitate.

except motion. motion is life's essence. dead things don't move.

or, no movement arises from within them. living things are needed to
make non-alive things move.

cars don't go. people go....(gaté gaté paragaté / para sum gaté /
bodhi so ha)

yesssssss
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even this random shutterclick looks brighter thru the lens. maybe
iphone has a subtle, secret roseglasses line of code? you know, to
make us fall in unlikely love with a 2 pixel, no-features camera
(until you jailbreak, or it's true on my first-gen, 1.1.4 baby, anyway.
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> sometimes when I look at my photos I'm freshly--infinitely, I guess--
> surprised and pleased at all the color there is in an area I usually
> try to visually not examine.

walking around--when i manage to motivate my formerly athletic self to
do the four flights down/four flights up dance--i often feel a mixture
of not too happy feelings.

why? nutshell: my friend/karmic learning experience brings windex
wipes when he plans to go biking. to wipe off the mysterious goo that
settles on the seat (and everything else). sidewalks washed daily,
frequent island rains--still, the historic stone buildings and narrow
sidewalks look in serious need of magic sponge. or just magic.
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> sheds? no need. piling up cones, flow-arounds, flashing lights and
> such alongside storefronts abd in small sidealleys makes more sense
> than schlepping them back to some arbitrary "central" storage doodah.

see, in honolulu, construction never ends. and yet, housing keeps
diminishing...or so it seems. no--prices keep puffing up and puffing
up. inevitably things will ¡pop!

(makes me think of henry george. who? isadora duncan's father-in-law,
almost mayor of new york, and a fellow whose ideas, if followed, would
be a saint to taxpayers and hobos alike.

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Begin forwarded message:

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