papa pájaro

I want to share with you a small piece I did for my dad Javier... I call it pájaro.

"pajaro" Aug 2010 acrylic & watercolor on panel, 10"X8"   click to view

My dad's birthday was yesterday and we are celebrating his 60 years alive.  He's a young dad to me, an older dad to my lil' bro Xman, a great dad to a us both.  In 1987, when I was about 12 yrs old, the age Xman is now, I made a painting of a ruby throated humming bird for my dad on his 37th Bday.  It was my last oil painting I ever did.  I grew up painting with oils... my mom hooked me up at 7 years old with a slew of brushes, canvases, oil mediums, turpentine, and tubes of paint... and I painted with them until I dropped painting during middle school (asterisk)... years later in college when I picked up a brush again I took the safe route with acrylics.

ruby throated hummingbird, Aug 1987, oil on panel, 10"X8"
hanging in my dad's "museum" wall     click to view

My dad loves birds.  He loves to watch them, study them, and talk to them.  Which is why I chose a bird as a subject that summer of 1987 to paint for him.  This year when making something for his Bday, it came back to me the memory of that painting from years ago and I knew that a bird was coming through for this piece.  Unlike last time though, when I sourced the hummingbird from a bird book, this time I simply allowed an imagined creature to come through my fingertips to create a unique bird species from more of a dream world ...since my dad also has always had a strong affection for dreaming.

My dad likes to think of himself as an old bird ...silly dad, what you are is beautifully alive like a bird in flight, soaring always to greater heights, loving to observe all of life, loving all of humanity.  Your noble heart has infused my own. Thank you dad, I celebrate you and I love you!

click to view

written during
week 18 "mapa"

∞ ceci

6

mapa de momentos

A story is like a map. Life is like a story of stories, maps within maps, like a fractal you can always go in further, deeper right down to the territory that each moment holds. Our expressions, our pieces of work, are sign posts along the way, and surely ZBOOK is a major one for us, telling the story of and mapping out 14 years of our living, being, and synergizing. A story of stories it is. A 4D map of our growth as artists and as friends, of our young lives.

But this map is not to be figured out. Life is too wonderfully messy for that. And truth is always changing based on perspective ...there are certainly an infinite number of perspectives from a multitude of moments that shaped ZBOOK ...and infinitely more to experience ZBOOK with. This page started out with words, phrases that mutated into other phrases that with continued added words mutated into other phrases and on and on until it became a fishbowl of expressions, all specific phrases linked so closely that they seem like a school of individual fishes. Reminds me of Johnathan Harris' work, which I shared about in my "Collecting Stories" post a few weeks back. These phrases are all "partial glimpses" into our mind, a mental or emotional map if you will (from 1998 mostly). Our stories are the map to our lives, the destination being the map itself.

"Mapa" offers another mapping point, this photograph from summer of 2002, of Jennifer's husband Tony, her daughter at 1 1/2 yr old, and Vinh, my partner at the time, of whom I've mentioned in prior posts... for it is impossible to reflect on the last 14 years with out thinking of Vinh... as we were together since high school and all through my 20's. I am so profoundly blessed that he and I today share a friendship, this is a gift in my life... for Vinh is an amazing man that I am proud to know and honored to call family. Vinh is my oldest, dearest friend.

"mapa"

click to view

∞ ceci

6

week eighteen >> "mapa"

"mapa"  click to view

When I hear this word, 'mapa', I see lands and crossings and adventure in my minds eye.
The picture from the “mapa” spread comes from the summer of July, 2002 at Lake Barryessa.
Tony, Hallie and Vinh have sinced been tribaled out by Ceci’s silver tipped experimentation.
 She apparently thought I was the tattoo / piercing culprit; however, I believe my observation stands here, as I mentioned to her, I probably wouldn't have gone all out on Tony's navel - because I know him too well!

This spread is obviously enhanced by intense shocks of color - blue saturated water colors, and fluorescent pen designs highlight the poignant masked angel beings who appear to be observing the goings on, participating?!  These Venetian robed figures hover as if on a threshhold of mirrored waters.  Through which, the words of life are swirling. 

I can't help but connecting this to the meditation on the Prologue to the Gospel of St. John:

                                                        In the Beginning

                                                        Was the Word

                                                        And the Word

                                                        Was with God

                                                        And the Word

                                                        Was God.

                                                        He was in the Beginning

                                                        With God.

As a studier of Rudolf Steiner, I came across the above 'Incarnation' in an issue of the Anthroposophical Society of LA's monthly newsletter some time ago.  I cut it out to keep and use because the intro said something about RS not being one to give guarantees, however, regarding this prologue, he is said to have said, "If you meditate on the Prologue to the Gospel of St. John, the first five verses (1 and 2 are above), for one year, every day, the whole course of your life will be changed."  That's a pretty powerful statement, so i cut it out.

On another note...

 Here is a short story to take you into the land of lake shores and rocky hillsides:
Our family travels every summer, through the hot plains of California’s fruit basket, into the foothills of the Western Sierras, via Dinuba and the Tivy Valley. As we turn the final curves of Sunnyslope into the domain of Pine Flats Lake, I am always relaxed into dreamy breath as my senses fill with the scenery. Our August trip, to celebrate Tony’s 42nd, was enlivened by his dear cousin's family floating along too. After a weekend overflowing with refreshment, we prepared our intentions and steered our course for Rattlesnake Island... to pay our final respects to Old Grandpa Snake.

We killed Old Grandpa last summer, another story in itself. This summer, a year later, we returned his head to the shores where we first crossed paths. Preserved in a hummus container, soaked in rock salt, OG’s diamond shaped cranium still held poison. We were cautious; my own touch, the only handling of the head and its container with gloves.
Tony and the four kids dug a hole.
I carried and opened the container and unloaded the contents.
Amazingly still well in tact after a year in salt, the head was large and commanded our reverance.
We admired the eyes and the scales and respected the fangs tucked away.
We prayed, then we buried and marked the snakes grave with a split walking stick, secured by rocks.
While the group swam in the warm cove, I climbed to the opposite side of the high water island, where the current is stronger, to rinse the bowls and jump into a cooler area.  I remembered swimming there, along the rocks with Hallie and Jack and cousin Jimmy the previous year,
the weekend we took home the snake.
For Christmas last, Tony tanned the skin and created five wearable pieces from it's length.  I received a baked skin bead on a red stone necklace he strung; Hallie was proud of her rattling bracelet and Tony's cowboy hat band catches any honky tonks eye. 

angels watching
Tonight, Tony and I pulled a powerful spread of cards to commemorate his birthday transition. So much of the weekends great lessons were mirrored in the pulls as we asked guidance from the Shaman Wisdom Cards and connected to the power of Zen utilizing the Osho Zen Tarot. So much power and affirmative wisdom poured through our devoted space; I am incredibly grateful and respondent to the gifts showered down. Tony acknowledges so graciously the truth of a 7 year cycle coming to close, and the next opening. In Steiner speak, he will come into a period once again of a double shot of will development. I will be elaborating on our spread for Tony, if anyone is interested in channeling universal guidance, feel free to ask. And also, go to Ceci’s newly manifested Oracle link – I’m sure she’ll extrapolate and invite expanded participation soon.

Please also feel free to share a comment with inspired vision ... we are on a path of visioning,
and oh my the waters are refreshing.
Blessings and Be well,
-Jennifer

"hidden" pattern

I was delighted to re-discover on Z "hidden" page yet another quote from Northern Exposure, this time from our beloved character Ed:

"hidden" click to view

"that's the pattern, it's a random pattern."

-Ed, Ice Breaking episode

"hidden" NE quote from Ed click to view

"O the Northerns, the episodes of Northern Exposure,
this unbeknownst gem of a tv show, so beyond tv itself,
yet perfectly delivered via the genre's format of episodes.
seems like a silly show, and silly so often it is, but so often
too, right when you least expect it, it hits home sO deep
that you grasp your heart and either smile or cry or laugh
or rejoice in reverent silence. and you certainly
can't believe that you are watching tv."

ceci on NE, comment on 5/1/10 post

Ed's quote comes from one of the "epic" Northern Exposure episodes, as I did deem during my intensive study with each episode in 1997, from the my collection of VHS recordings that I captured during the year before as the show was in syndication. The episode is about the breaking of spring in Cicely, Alaska, when the very last days of winter are holding on as the entire town is anxiously in a holding pattern waiting for the ice to break, which would mark the release of the great melt down into the spring days. As the sound of creaking and squeaking of the ice on the big break verge permeates throughout the town, everyone, completely on edge, in their own way has their own "meltdown." It's a pattern of sanctioned madness, but at the very essence of chaos in randomness.

detail of "Portal" acrylic on hoop drum, 2000 click to view

You'll have to see the episode to know of what Ed is referring to in particular here (season 2, ep 5: "spring break") ...but let me just say that these words from our innocent yet astute Ed have always hit home for me. As I tend to express through my artwork, life is a dance between chaos and control. We are certainly in control of every step we take, yet as we are always changing and growing so do our chosen steps, and as we are walking in and responding to a world of unknown circumstance, our controlled chosen steps are truly that of a unique chaos. Trace these movements and you'll indeed get a pattern, a random pattern... which I feel is evident in the very lines we discover in all life's growth or decay, such as... Veins in a leaf, lines of your skin, grains of wood, inside our cells, topography of land, the cracking of concrete, a nebula…whether micro or macro, all things in life tend to share the lines of a unifying random pattern. Each form is a total unique expression, yet there is a universal order that connects everything on every level. Of course this "order," this "pattern," is mostly hidden, especially in the face of our assumptions that chaos has none. What I love about Ed is that he doesn't make any assumptions, and thus matter of factly accepts and proclaims that the randomness itself is a pattern. Such is life and such are we. Beautifully random. Randomly beautiful.

∞ ceci

6

"hidden" context

As we were feeling out the page for this week Jennifer and I could sense it but could not see it until finally our eyes focused in on what is after all "hidden."  This page, quite pale, translucent even, does not live in the forefront, it does not cry out loud... it waits backstage, patient and equinanimous, for subtle moments to express... in whispers.  "Hidden" is a place we haven't returned to visit as very often, unlike other boldly seductive pages, and so this week we re-discover it and it's secrets.

"love bomb"     click to view

"hidden"     click to view

One of the more flamboyant pages in its contrast is actually responsible for the birth of"hidden": "love bomb"  The pastel markers that formed the force field in "love bomb" did bleed over creating the mid right section of "hidden." Thus the initial mark on "hidden," the impetus for the entire page, was in fact no mark at all, at least not from the surface, it came up from the depths below.  This bleed-through was left untouched and only extended by lines that formed a completion via mutation inspired by the form on the other page it mirrors. 

Another page connection lies within these added lines, the metalic purple diamond like shapes... when turn ZBOOK on its side you may be able to detect that it is a series of identical figures with the arms up and legs apart, and that btwn each  is another figure and another btwn each of those and so on.

"hidden" detail : burning man pattern     click to view

"good-witch" detail : burning man pattern in circle   click to view

To my surprise this exact pattern with the same pen was included in Z page from last week, "good-witch"!  If you look closely to the circle in of the middle right side, going round are these infinite dudes again.  This pattern was inspired by Burning Man and it's symbol of a man spread wide open.  I had initially come up with this pattern of forever burning men as a possible design for jewelry at at that time was drawing it every, as I now remember. the fact that we chose the pages back to back is just another wonderful moment is the life that ZBOOK, and all our co-creating, most certainly including Z Blog, has all of it's own.  Getting out of our own ways and allowing this ZBOOK creature to unfold and mutate and create into what it IS to become has been not only thrilling, but seriously healing, as an artist and thus a human.  This "hidden" page seems to exemplified this with all it's cryptic messages and deeply embedded stories.

"it's my intension

it's like even when

it's not my aim

it iS" 

is what came forth from my pen onto this page on day years ago,

intention misspelled respectively, and a size small sticker

peeled from a garment used for the "s" in "iS."

  I guess I knew then what I didn't know now.

∞ ceci

6

week seventeen >> "hidden"

On Monday this week,  last week as well, I sweated my tail off in an intense yoga class.  Last week, Keric brought the theme of strength - which was so perfectly in tune with my own thought focus as I have made August dedicated to Strength in my life. This week, the theme of our Anusara class was "Organization" - which again, is perfectly perfect in the light of my life as I make strides to put into new places all the clutter of my desk space - which has recently found a new corner in our house.

The key to organization, my yogi says, is breath - deep inhalations of divine intelligence.  And with that, as we all enter hidden places to uncover profound truth, I offer the following message from out of the bathroom at Yoga Blend...

"hidden"     click to view

If there is light in the soul,

There will be beauty in the person.

If there is beauty in the person,

There will be harmony in the house.

If there is harmony in the house,

there will be order in the nation.

If there is order in the nation,

There will be peace in the world.

                              -Chinese proverb

Blessings and Be well,

-Jennifer

soul sisters

           * click all images for large view*  (thanks to my mama for capturing most of these)

Last weekend I had the privilege and honor to participate in the Agape Soul Sisters Retreat at the Temescal Gateway Park in Pacific Palisades.  Like last year, my amazing mom gifted me this experience.  I have to admit, in my life I haven't been exactly enthralled by all women's gatherings.  In fact most of my life the majority of my friends have been dudes.  Of course though I have had and have a handful of very close friends who are women, they are indeed sisters to my heart and soul, who's friendships have graced my life.  I just have felt more comfortable in groups with both genders, generally.  So when my mom invited me to this retreat last year, I was like, cool, okay, this should be nice, a weekend with the ladies.  

Little did I know that I would be blown away by the experience of this outstanding group of people, each one so very beautiful... with unique stories, qualities, talents, and vision.  Experiencing this diversity of backgrounds, ages, shapes and sizes, affinities, voices, gifts, colors, and beauty was like swimming in a vast body of rich, life renewing, multi-sourced mineral water where a million earthly rivers did converge, powerfully refreshing.  I felt like I was in a power plant of human magnificence.  And I walked away from that weekend and into the world looking at EVERY human being with a slight tilt of my head and little grin wondering, I bet you are amazing aren't you, if I were to stop and listen to your stories, reveal who you are and what you are creating, I would discover you beautiful, I can feel it.  EVERYone, female or male, after that simply radiated to me.  And this feeling made me feel beautiful.  Helped me feel my own beauty.  Healing.

Well, this year was again a prolifically inspiring convergence of human beings. I am honored to be a part of it, to participate in this deep think-feel-be-flourish tank, to give and receive the gift of vulnerability, openness, and TRUST that is the ultimate strength and power. 

counsel of wise women, 2009

Quite possibly the most profound and wonderful part of this retreat is the counsel of wise women, our elders, who greet us as daughters when we arrive to the opening gathering on friday, and on saturday we gather around for "Tell Mama," a time that anyone can express something or ask a question to our elder women for a reflection from their earnest wisdom.  And at our closing ceremony on sunday, as we honor each season of age of all the women present, when we get to the "New Spring" to honor the amazing counsel of wise women, well, my heart busts into a million grateful pieces as I behold their grace.  I saw my grandma Tata up there standing with them, and out of total joy I humbly cried and gave thanks.  I am going soon to visit my grandma Tata to celebrate her 99 years alive!

my mama (far right), her wonderful friends
who headed the call, and me (on far left)

These are prayer squares (at right).  You carry yours with you and with a friend you present it and ask your friend for a prayer.  Your friend, in agreement, signifies the prayer by tying a knot with it's strings. And now you carry with you a visual and tactile reminder that your prayer is alive, and as these exchanges continue so do grow the prayers and their knots on your prayer square.  These were made by a group of women at the retreat for all of us.  I was gifted my square as well as another to gift to a friend. Yesterday I gave it to Jennifer and we exchanged prayers and knots. These are our squares in our hands.

Quan Yin statue reflecting at the soul sister alter

"good witch"      click to view

Our stories, our creativity, our gifts and what we give... I am waking up to that these are our expressions yes, AND they are the way we heal... ourselves, and one another.  Our medicine is the art and the stories of our lives.  In this sense we are medicine women and shamans.  Medicine women were deemed witches not long ago... and sO  we re-claim ourselves to that of a "good witch" like Glinda, here on Z page this week, beautiful and powerful because of her compassion, love and healing Grace.

in love & gratitude

∞ ceci

6

Drippings

I do believe this to be my absolute, most favoritist page-spread in zbook.
Can you blame me, how mush more awesome can an image collaboration painting collage get?
There are so many elements here - let's take a look - expand the vision:

"good witch" click to view

So, a), for me, palettely speaking, I want to dive right in and eat it up - how delicious - the collaboration between the colors of blue and the highlights of purple and pinks and the overlay of green, yellow, and gold with white and blackish and graphite - it's pleasing and multi-faceted in that frame.

Glinda, the Good Witch

And then, b), is the dialogue between the 2 pages. For me, the left is an expression of the right, like a bubble busted, to see inside. The macro and the micro are in a constant lemniscate with each other between these two sides for my thoughts and eyes. Crossing into the straight forms of the right, the cirles and triangles, is where my gaze then bounces to the left because it is here that these conversing angels dwell in my internal story. From the rays of Michael, or other archangel being, and perhaps, overseen by them, sings the dance of the 'Hot Skillet Lickers' quartet.And, guiding the direction of their song, where it casts upon, is Glinda, in the bottom corner, waving her crystal wand with grace and gesture. Side note, she is who I always wanted to be as a young child when I wore pink frill or carried a wand - I think traveling by bubble is the key.
It is as if, the pulsation, which is the prayer gesture of the unity btw. the green and pink angels is the juice being squeezed through the sky of the right page toward the earth below.

C)ollaborating with this conversation are the other words on the page - on the left, there is faint silver in the rays, "Space Changes" - which again, rocks me into the shapes of the right, as they carve out the space of the sky in a lifted veil kind of way. And then, the piece-d-resistance (someone please correct me)... in relating the story line; appropriated from the tragic and great Jeff Buckley - in teal pen, on whiteout : "screaming down from heaven" - you should all know how to sing that lyric, if you don't already, please learn!

"screaming down from heaven"
click for larger view

d) The element of story depicted in this spread, which has been a key to understanding for both Cec and I, I believe, in the recognizing of how to translate our perceptions, and our expressions, into the language of daily existence: is the tiny gesture at the bottom right corner - the city - life. Through this beautifully drawn in sketch of life where we know it - revealed in careful looking within the mountains of the earth; through this, we are able to gift our understanding of much greater powers - of the mysteries of the universe, and how we are grappling with them and understanding them and making our way through and into them. Thank heavens for the gift of this spread for that revelation!

nipple dripping
click for larger view

and finally for now, e), the dripping nipple, has a world of story within itself. That image alone, could launch a thousand ships.

Adieu and farewell, please stay and feast from the HOT SKILLET for as long as you like, be sure to pay the "good witch" as you exit. Be well and blessings, -J.

week sixteen >> "good witch"

Jennifer once brought me a sarong from Maui, a gift from one of her many family trips to her beloved island.  It came with instructions, not in words but rather in pictures, suggestions really on ways to use the sarong, pointers to the fabric's versatility, an invitation to be creative.   I cut out these drawings of the sarong sportin' ladies one by one and collaged them into ZBOOK here on this page.  One day, maybe years later, maybe less, I opened up this page to find these ladies had been dipped in pink and had become their very own ensemble... with one swipe of the scissors and another of glue, the words "hot skillet lickers" made these ladies into super stars. 

[ click images to view ]

"good witch"

It must have been the work of the good witch!.. who appeared a bit later below at the center seam of the page.  She dresses in pink herself... maybe she made the sarong maidens into her backup singers, or maybe they are her projection of her multiple personas, or maybe she's an awesome sticker that Jennifer stuck in here to give the page more pink, and more magic.  

∞ ceci

6

Collecting Stories

"lush"    click to view

On the upper right of Z page "lush"  is an excerpt from a now long gone magazine article that Jennifer cut out and collaged into ZBOOK.  These words are like a sound bite of a story, a voice from an experience. Reminds me of the "partial glimpse" that artist and computer scientist Jonathan Harris mentions in his TED talk about collecting stories.  Jonathan has always been interested in stories, using all kinds of mediums to capture them, and now is using the tools of computer and internet to create living documents about current human kind through collecting their on going stories.  This is from his FAQs on his website:

The intersection of storytelling and computer science is unusual — how did you arrive at it?
I have always been interested in storytelling, which I see as the soul of human life. As a kid, this meant writing my own comic books. As a teenager this meant keeping sketchbooks. In college, this meant starting a magazine of personal travel stories. After studying computer science, this meant finding a way to use the web to re-imagine what storytelling can be. At each step, I try to use whatever tools are available to me. When the tools change, I change.

In this TED talk (below), Jonathan talks about the sketchbooks he has always carried with him that he fills with his paintings, writings, documentation, and found artifacts from his days.... sound familiar?  He then began collecting found objects from which he became interested in the "partial glimpse" of people's stories, rather than the whole, because with a partial glimpse one can then fill in the rest with their imaginations.  Much like what I've been exploring with my recent art.  He goes on to more recent work also in which he now uses a camera to snap up stories, frame by frame, moment by moment, glimpse by glimpse.

It became clear to me about 5 years ago, that ZBOOK is a story of stories.  It is essentially a collection of glimpses from our lives -traces of our thoughts, experiences, creative whims- mixed with glimpses from the lives around us, via found objects and gleaned pieces of print, stickers, tags, and other "junk" (treasures).  As a forever kid who loves to find things, it has been so fun to have a place to play with and re-activate these found items of life.  For whichever stories unfold, even if created from a bundle of "partial glimpses," are a source for personal reflection and thus a potential opportunity to gain some fresh perspective on my own narrative.  Stories, "real" or imagined, are bridges for our communing with others and ultimately ourselves.

∞ ceci
6


ps(l): check out Jonathan Harris' sketchbooks ! ...exquisite.

week fifteen >> "lush" - JULY: HOT pages!

LUSH

Awash in color,

I step through scwaler.

Splitting hairs over splitting Atoms,

I search for hidden knowledge.

Take this piece,

 - Make it walk.

 LUSHious souls Volupt,

Speak words to Talk.

The Sun it rises,
The Sun it sets,

These flames in freezing,

through Summers Lick.

In prayer, this compass,

sets Arrows flashing.

warped, casted shadows,

Great lights, shades sealing.

Under purple Mountains majesty,

windowpanes, statue-lanes, and round ro-tains,

Stand whight, gray, silver,

blue-lined Rivers shining.


-J. Gould

renegations

click these to view!

"caution"   click to view

In the upper left of "caution" we see a snag of caution tape from a renegade mission accomplished by Jennifer in february 1999, in which she traversed the construction zone of the new UCSB art museum.  We have long fancied such impromptu expeditions, as upon our many walkabouts we encounter such zones of construction or the unseen that beckon our exploration.  Z page this week got us reminiscing about our renegations from the last 14 years, via "chat"

ceci (10:49 AM):  hi! I was vaccuming    hemphill (10:47 AM):  Me too!!!     ceci (10:49 AM):  lol   

hemphill (10:49 AM):  wow, - what does that mean?... about us both sucking up dust and bugs and other particles, before coming to this session... interesting, especially for me because of the dust factor, dirt, which comes with going into a construction zone. You don't go in new, clean clothes, ya know.

ceci (10:52 AM):  right!    ceci (10:52 AM):  renegades often are in camouflage of their terrain     

hemphill (10:53 AM):  yes, color blending...my favorite memory

ceci (10:54 AM):  so let's see... we would be on adventures at night on campus... off hours...no man's land ...ours for the taking

hemphill (10:54 AM):  ...remember when we went ontop of the new humanities building - and scaled the thin disk, record like escapements?

ceci (10:54 AM):  that was the BEST, way high   up like treading on a saturn ring ...way beyond imaginings    

hemphill (10:55 AM):  I think Hesse or McLaughlin were with us on that one?    

ceci (10:55 AM):  Hesse for sure    hemphill (10:55 AM):  I thought so   ceci (10:55 AM):  after us breaking into a classroom!

ceci (10:59 AM):  so the first I remember, is the new admin building being built in like spring of 1996 I guess, yeah, 'cause when I got back to school the next year it was finished and in use by then... it was night, of course, we were walking by and we both looked at each other like.. we just knew what was next

ceci (11:03 AM):  in that moment I was remembering that back in high school Vinh and I snuk into construction zones of new homes being built and had romantic evenings in the wooden skeletons of homes to be, complete with candle lit dinner.

ceci (11:04 AM):  and I think you also shared with me at the time some memories of your past construction zone fun too...   what did we do, climb the fence, or find a gap to enter through?

hemphill (11:06 AM):  I'm pretty sure, we wiggled through something - a gap or whatnot... we may have needed to climb fence to get out.

ceci (11:06 AM):  I think a dumpster was involved... for helping boost us... and we went to the structure's upper levels, right?

hemphill (11:07 AM):  quick sideflash - the first time I ever climbed a fence, was with my dad, after we broke into my moms school and office to decorate her room for her 40th birthday, I think I was - um, 12?    

ceci (11:08 AM):  that is RAD.... another school!.... afterhours baby

hemphill (11:08 AM):  Ok, a dumpster, I do not recall that... ha ha ha....  And, if we went to the second floor, you may be thinking of another entry besides what i'm thinking of, though I don't think you are... I remember very skeletal - and lots of holes, and cement.

hemphill (11:10 AM):  That was the first I remember too though - and it was awesome! it was a possibly a greater turning point in our friendship... like, no turning back, ever!

hemphill (11:11 AM):  do you think that was pre- zbook? i'd guess pre for sure.

hemphill (11:12 AM):  I was so bummed by that whole new stretch of buildings and reconstructions, which that admin building seemed to be the first... because of the loss of z perfect tunnel.

hemphill (11:12 AM):  where else?    hemphill (11:13 AM):  I remember a disc hucking session on a big construction zone in Vegas - like a parking lot in construction - do you have that memory?

ceci (11:14 AM):  yes, in the back lot of the Venician, 1999...may...  we somehow, only Hemphill and cec, got out a random backdoor...

hemphill (11:15 AM):  p.s.l. that's the first time I've heard about yours and Vinh's exploits into off- limits - coolio - nice picture

ceci (11:15 AM):  .....and ended up where no one ever goes, total behind the scenes..... behind the sets....   where the garbage and dirty golf carts live....

hemphill (11:16 AM):  yes, that was a great trip too - minus the loss of the genie - somewhere out there, on the road to Vegas!

ceci (11:16 AM):  alleys and dumpsters and nthing painted pretty...   

ceci (11:16 AM):  O yeah!  sacrafice to the gods    hemphill (11:16 AM):  oooh, I didn't recall dirty golf carts.    ceci (11:17 AM):  ...yeah, just so not "Vegas"....  ...but what makes it all run you know...

hemphill (11:17 AM):  what do you remember about sacrificing to the gods? - I must have been imbibing something.

ceci (11:17 AM):  ...leave it to us to discover the real deal...   ceci (11:17 AM):  the genie    hemphill (11:18 AM):  I'd be paranoid to day, I've seen to many CSI episodes.

ceci (11:18 AM):  DUDE and it's VEGAS, where there is a cmaera in every crack and cranny!... although we were doing nothing wrong at all, just tooling around and hucking disc

hemphill (11:19 AM):  yeah, but still, Vegas seems, run by people...who don't play frisbee!

and, O yes, and let it be known that we adore hucking disc, or tossing the frisbee as it is commonly known, and play as we walk and travel as we huck, the disc always leading us to new terrains to trespass...

∞ ceci

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