i'm really not a crusader, but when push comes to shove

last night i couldn't get out of my mind what could be. so i messed around with a picture of the present structure, doomed to be a parking garage and police headquarters, at the cost of $18,000,000. this nutty as anything i can imagine. as a result i've written the following to the local newspaper and the npr station. at least it puts the possibility out there. i don't expect to see it realized in my lifetime. what the hell, at least it's a concept which i hope will grow. 

working on it.

To: contact@monca.org

Sent: Saturday, May 26, 2012 8:07 AM

Subject: [wayne pease smokysun's heaven] what a fantastic modern art museum this 14 million dollar parking garage would make!

hi, I talked to one of your people at the farmer's market and told her my plan. I'm serious, this should happen. below copy of missiles to kcho and the news and review. I would love to see you take up the fight.

best,

wayne pease

Sent: Saturday, May 26, 2012 8:01 AM

Subject: Fw: [wayne pease smokysun's heaven] what a fantastic modern art museum this 14 million dollar parking garage would make!

hi lorraine, I hope you got this and will put it on the docket. I gave it to bob speer a week ago and wrote him the following again this morning. check it out. thanks. you're always a bright presence. wayne

hi bob, just sent jason the stuff below. it would be a great project for our twilight years!
wayne ps. go ahead and use my name and whatever i've written. to hell with it, i won't be around that long.

hi jason, i'm still cooking on this project. played with ideas last night:

www.pbase.com/wwp/museum2

and a friend sent pictures of the museum at ASU in arizona:

http://0.tqn.com/d/phoenix/1/0/C/y/2/asuartmus01.jpg

http://rakstagemom.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/asu-art-museum-from-inner-campus-photo-by-lynn-trimble.jpg

it's not a battle won in the short-run. the external crud they put on will have to be torn off later. but the campaign should begin now. thanks much.

wayne

ps. these are your natural allies: http://monca.org/ among many others.

Victory is won not in miles but in inches. Win a little now, hold your ground, and later, win a little more.
~ Louis L'Amour

Sent: Tuesday, May 15, 2012 5:04 AM

Subject: [wayne pease smokysun's heaven] what a fantastic modern art museum this 14 million dollar parking garage would make!

i'm awake at 3:41 in the morning, wanting to cry. my young architect friend, suzanne monaco, killed on the streets of san francisco last week, has me looking at buildings. the edifice going up in the middle of town horrifies me, at least most of the time. yesterday i really looked at where the construction's presently at, and i stood amazed. right at this very moment the cement rising up is magnificent, soon to be covered with kitsch.


you can read all about the plans for the place here: http://www.csuchico.edu/fcp/projects/parking.shtml#

and the justifications for spending the money on a parking garage when the town aching for income. even a blind person could run their hands over this form and realize what a fantastic modern art museum this would make. there are forces in town that could realize this dream. for example, an organization called MONCA, promised prime works by california greats by a local collector,350 of them looking for a home. http://monca.org/


what an honor this institution could be, and a huge draw for the populace. people would come for miles to see the works (and those which would be donated). alas, i know it won't happen and the water running down my face isn't because i'm taking a shower. semi-anonymous forces raise monsters of ingratitude, insults like this present glorious set of ribs and they don't know when to quit, not knowing what they have, what could be. only with a human intervention could the building be saved from transforming. if only the vision weren't missing.


hopefully, i can go back to sleep. like most people i'll learn to live with the monstrosity to come, which will quickly look normal on Normal Street. only the death of a visionary friend makes me temporarily able to see what might have been. i walked around the block, taking pictures and wishing i had the power to change the direction of the state. fat chance. those in charge wish to cut the funds for education to make up for the state short-fall. without an individual taste for mystery, beauties rarely happen, usually only facades of ordinary infamy.


what was that 60's song, i think maybe joni mitchell, about ...they made it into a parking-lot? go look now. it will never look this magnificent again.

http://www.pbase.com/wwp/parking

--
Posted By smokysun to wayne pease smokysun's heaven at 5/15/2012 04:57:00 AM  

have you thought about the legacy you will be leaving!

the sudden death of suzanne monaco on the streets of san francisco (see: in loving memory of suzanne on facebook http://www.facebook.com/groups/311088055635481/  ) has changed my long-held view of dying. always before, i've thought about the pain of the moment, the quick or the drawn-out. that has been my image: cancer and a hospital bed, a fall from a cliff with time to think on the way down. but what if i don't feel a thing? get hit by a truck like suzanne, merely crossing a street? or exiting in my sleep in the midst of a dream? 


what has hit me: we're here and then we're not. you'll be talking with me one minute, the next minute to an empty chair. that's the reality. we exist for ourselves and the world, then we go back to the time before we were born, an open window with a view of clouds.  bit by bit, any memory of me transforms into something else: a word, a drawing, a photograph fading in your hand. and after a generation, forget it, as i've been forgotten.


this has me thinking about projects which fill the vacant space i leave. for example, i'm back at the fire tower in the midst of a game refuge. trouble is, the birds have fled, the coyotes vanished, the bear an orphan, no little cottontails to be seen. compared to 28 years ago, it's a desert without wildlife. hawks don't plunge through the trees, cougars don't leave tracks, and even the vultures have deserted me. 


for all that, i know a bit of the wild world can be restored. thus, i'm trying to drum up interest, asking help from a biologist friend, talking with the district ranger. amazing how much resistance you will meet! i don't mean in these people, rather in general, since few people want to be bothered. no one seems immediately open to the idea of change to change. in other words, most of us would rather shrug our shoulders and exclaim, 'it's inevitable.'


last time i wrote about establishing a museum of modern art in my home town, taking the ribs of a $18 million dollar parking garage and making something significant. at present, this is a fantasy. i've been encouraging friends to take pictures of the structure as it stands now so the kitsch can be ripped off later and it's rightful use be restored. i certainly won't see this in my lifetime! i can put the idea out there, sow a few seeds. 


let's see, the co-housing community where i've lived for nine of the last eleven years going through the throws of re-birth. many of the original people gone, a number of houses up for sale, a large section of the community renting. how to cope with the situation? basically, i've been throwing out easy solutions. i've told them, 'simplify, simply' even though i know this is the last place henry david thoreau would like to live!


i think there's something else. ah, yes, the blue room theatre  http://blueroomtheatre.com/ . a new artistic director has arrived. this summer, he'll be replenishing the coffers with programs for children, at which he is an expert with a track-record. i'm looking forward to taking more pictures. and it would be great if his spirit jived with mine and we did some plays i've written before i kick the bucket. 


being an idea guy and not a handyman, i'm in a better position on top of a mountain to inspire others to put their shoulders to the wheel. and before leaving town i had a great time at the chico observatory watching the annular eclipse through welding goggles which turned everything green: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/solar

oops, i forgot another life-long project: watching over the forest for fifty hears. hmm, that seems to have been all too easy. 

what a fantastic modern art museum this 18 million dollar parking garage would make!

i'm awake at 3:41 in the morning, wanting to cry. my young architect friend, suzanne monaco,  killed on the streets of san francisco last week, has me looking at buildings. the edifice going up in the middle of town horrifies me, at least most of the time. yesterday i really looked at where the construction's presently at, and i stood amazed. right at this very moment the cement rising up is magnificent, soon to be covered with kitsch. 


you can read all about the plans for the place here:  http://www.csuchico.edu/fcp/projects/parking.shtml#

and the justifications for spending the money on a parking garage when the town aching for income. even a blind person could run their hands over this form and realize what a fantastic modern art museum this would make.  there are forces in town that could realize this dream. for example, an organization called MONCA, promised prime works by california greats by a local collector, 350 of them looking for a home. http://monca.org/


what an honor this institution could be, and a huge draw for the populace. people would come for miles to see the works (and those which would be donated). alas, i know it won't happen and the water running down my face isn't because i'm taking a shower. semi-anonymous forces raise monsters of ingratitude, insults like this present  glorious set of ribs and they don't know when to quit, not knowing what they have, what could be. only with a human intervention could the building be saved from transforming. if only the vision weren't missing. 


hopefully, i can go back to sleep. like most people i'll learn to live with the monstrosity to come, which will quickly look normal on Normal Street. only the death of a visionary friend makes me temporarily able to see what might have been. i walked around the block, taking pictures and wishing i had the power to change the direction of the state. fat chance. those in charge wish to cut the funds for education to make up for the state short-fall. without an individual taste for mystery, beauties rarely happen, usually only  facades of ordinary infamy. 


what was that 60's song, i think maybe joni mitchell, about ...they made it into a parking-lot? go look now. it will never look this magnificent again. 

http://www.pbase.com/wwp/parking

how to honor a young friend passed (the new orleans memorial)

here's how suzanne monaco's new orleans  friends did it. the plum street house where she lived as a student. sold by her parents, the new owners graciously invited them in. 

Kristin Bergstrom

The memorial in New Orleans was so Suz. I walked into the small room in the architecture building carrying her famous bean salad (which I had MAJOR anxiety making, because it needed to be just right) to see a table full of people and a gigantic projected picture of Suzanne dressed as a blue mermaid. We all spoke of Suz fondly, recalling epic adventures and the small moments - each equally important. It seems everyone's memories had a similar theme - Suz was wonderful, she really knew how to live her life, we should all take her as a model, and we all love her very much. People cried, people laughed, and people drank Jameson (among other things) in her honor. Then came the slide show full of fur coats, glitter, crazy hair, Mardi Gras beads, foreign places, bike rides, smudged mascara, smiling faces - blue eyes. She will always be beautiful.
Slowly people slipped out of the door and into the world, then suddenly the opening notes of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" came over the loud speaker - Danielle was the DJ. I don't know how it happened, but everyone ended up wildly dancing on the table in the conference room. Everyone was laughing, smiling, fist pumping, dropping it low, you name it - this time the projected picture was of Suzanne laughing hysterically in her fur coat with wild hair. We danced to all the classic Plum Street hits. Micheal Jackson, Gaga, and a few others that I have heard many times, but don't know the names of. During this time, I slipped out of the room, and found myself wandering around the architecture studio - to the confusion of some student stragglers. I came across a looming stack of library books on a student's swivel chair, and something told me to look. At the bottom of the stack was a book called, "Splendid Survivors" - a title that seemed fitting for the occasion. So I pulled it out of the stack to look at the cover - when I found the full title "Splendid Survivors: The architecture of downtown San Fransisco". It was too perfect, it was from Suzanne, it was for me. Soon after, the rain - which had been pouring from the sky for almost the entire memorial - cleared away and we biked for her.
First stop was Plum Street. We must have looked like a biker gang, rolling up to the house with at least 9 people. We knocked on the door and the couple who lives there graciously let us in. The house has been renovated and looks GORGEOUS...like something out of the magazines Suz often left on our coffee table. The owners let us track our mud all the way to the back where we decided to shot gun a beer in her honor. We said our goodbyes and thank yous, proceeding to the Tree of Life, a 300+ year old oak tree in Audubon park. The sun had set, it was that magical time of the night when everything becomes quiet. Though I have been to the tree before, I have never climbed it - I knew this was my time. So we all climbed up into the tree at varying levels(..since at about 3 feet I slipped and fell from the branch flat onto my back, my homage to Suz's clumsiness). We sat there talking about the little things...knowing Suz was close by, probably higher in the tree because she can be. We all came down, pants stained, toes covered with bark and dirt. On to stop three - St. Joe's bar with a random detour at Slice...sharing 3 pizzas at the outside table, family style. No plates, no napkins. Sadly this is where my time with Suz's New Orleans family ended. But I will carry it with me forever - it was so Suz. I will try my best to live from this day forward as one of her "Splendid Survivors".

you can find many tributes: http://www.facebook.com/groups/311088055635481/

and here are pictures from the chico memorial: http://www.pbase.com/wwp/suzanne

grief as the healing of a physical wound

                                                   Suzanne Monaco 1987-2012


i'm feeling grief and i don't like it. yet i'm afraid to push it completely away (as if i could). perhaps to do that would make me lose every sensation. people do go catatonic as a result. and then, what is left? merely a frozen set of memories, not even accurate ones. i'd walk around like the homeless beggar i've always been afraid to become. hey, this is america, the free-fall society, everyone fears for their survival, that terror only a pay-check away. 


no question, when i truly bond with a person, he/she becomes part of my body. they hurt, i hurt. visiting friends the day after they'd lost their child, i could be numb, in shock, able to do my best to comfort without trying to submit a cure. the loss is a permanent pain that never goes away. one friend felt so guilty for his son's death, he wished to die, until he gave himself diabetes and pricks his thumb for blood every day. now i keep remembering.


i strongly suspect i never became a parent to avoid this kind of damage. a man and a woman join together to create an extension of their own nervous system which they cannot control. and since this is a society both of individuality and a belief in freedom, eventually they have to kick the fledglings  out of the nest. humans and birds, birds of a feather, how i'd like to separate from the vulnerable body. unfortunately, i've never had a passion for video games and virtual reality. like Samuel johnson kicking a rock, 'this is not an illusion. it hurts!' 


yes, i stubbed my toe at the lookout twenty years ago and that appendage never the same. a girlfriend whacked me on the left  ear forty-years ago and i still hear ringing. by having children i would have doubled and trebled the possibilities of injury. kids remain part of the mother and father's body, no matter how far they are away. and if one dies before they do, it puts all of the natural order out of joint. the terrible pain feels as bad as though it had happened to them. and the mourning lasts long, since they've a huge network and blood flowing over invisible veins shattered, the wound slow to heal and leaving a huge scar. 


here's a bit of suzanne's story: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/05/07/BA7B1OEETL.DTL

and pictures of her with her older sister daphne: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.3838057959272.164885.1512702870&type=1

birthdays can become a bad habit

i keep telling myself 80 is the limit! unfortunately, i'm told by oscar wilde, you never feel old. tired maybe, anxious, frail, but never, never next to the grave. yes, another one of these cosmic events passed last saturday. and though i'm doing my best not to see the world as a symbol for myself, i must admit the gorgeous moon made me wonder. 





perhaps i am one of the chosen? no, best not to think that way. let me keep my scientific head about me. true, i've waded through shamanism, jungian psychology, and native-american mythology. for a decade i studied the tarot cards and read them for people. i've meditated in the woods and ate no meat for 32 years. you can't say i haven't paid my dues. yet these days i'm trying to reach into the miracle of physical fact. if my blood travels fifty thousand miles a day, my thoughts can surely travel further.


as a result, this last anniversary of my birth, i celebrated specie's consciousness. for many a moon i've experienced all of us as part of a survival bigger than ourselves, the human community. even as i deliberate in my private cell, i know i'm participating in this urge of human beings to survive as a whole. good gravy, it's never been a secret every organism on the planet depends on the same water, the common air. without these, it's no banana. 


of course, the obvious is the last thing i see. luckily, fifty years of shouting by the far-sighted has finally penetrated even my dense noggin. WE STAND OR FALL TOGETHER. much as i'd like to stay selfish, vote conservative, forget re-cycling, even i can see what's needed. in other words, i have to support open-source technology. i can't support tribal indulgence in secrets. the pool of knowledge needs to be as big and as available as possible.


damn, i'm leaving the world a better place and i had nothing to do with it. i tore open my packaging and threw more in the garbage than i bought. i've driven old air-polluting gas machines. i haven't killed anybody directly. that doesn't mean i haven't had the urge. only a sense of self-preservation and the fear of prison kept me from indulging my wildest fantasies. and still, somehow, a huge number of people on the planet have realized we sink or swim together. any destruction anywhere on earth affects us all.


whew, what a burden to carry. if i weren't so aware of the birthday bad-habit, i would despair for my own consciousness, my own individuality, my smart phone and new shoes. here's hoping these kids can make the best of it.


THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT!!! (endangered species faire may 5,, 2012) http://www.pbase.com/wwp/alright

birthdays can become a bad habit

i keep telling myself 80 is the limit! unfortunately, i'm told by oscar wilde, you never feel old. tired maybe, anxious, frail, but never, never next to the grave. yes, another one of these cosmic events passed last saturday. and though i'm doing my best not to see the world as a symbol for myself, i must admit the gorgeous moon made me wonder. 





perhaps i am one of the chosen? no, best not to think that way. let me keep my scientific head about me. true, i've waded through shamanism, jungian psychology, and native-american mythology. for a decade i studied the tarot cards and read them for people. i've meditated in the woods and ate no meat for 32 years. you can't say i haven't paid my dues. yet these days i'm trying to reach into the miracle of physical fact. if my blood travels fifty thousand miles a day, my thoughts can surely travel further.


as a result, this last anniversary of my birth, i celebrated species's consciousness. for many a moon i've experienced all of us as part of a survival bigger than ourselves, the human community. even as i deliberate in my private cell, i know i'm participating in this urge of human beings to survive as a whole. good gravy, it's never been a secret every organism on the planet depends on the same water, the common air. without these, it's no banana. 


of course, the obvious is the last thing i see. luckily, fifty years of shouting by the far-sighted has finally penetrated even my dense noggin. WE STAND OR FALL TOGETHER. much as i'd like to stay selfish, vote conservative, forget re-cycling, even i can see what's needed. in other words, i have to support open-source technology. i can't support tribal indulgence in secrets. the pool of knowledge needs to be as big and as available as possible.


damn, i'm leaving the world a better place and i had nothing to do with it. i tore open my packaging and threw more in the garbage than i bought. i've driven old air-polluting gas machines. i haven't killed anybody directly. that doesn't mean i haven't had the urge. only a sense of self-preservation and the fear of prison kept me from indulging my wildest fantasies. and still, somehow, a huge number of people on the planet have realized we sink or swim together. any destruction anywhere on earth affects us all.


whew, what a burden to carry. if i weren't so aware of the birthday bad-habit, i would despair for my own consciousness, my own individuality, my smart phone and new shoes. here's hoping these kids can make the best of it.


THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT!!! (endangered species faire may 5,, 2012) http://www.pbase.com/wwp/alright

who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?

odd to be raised on radio. i hovered over the speaker for shows like the shadow, the red eye of the dial shining in the dark. and their catch phrases stuck in the mind like the chorus of a pop song. inner sanctum, sam spade, phillip marlowe. the detectives and hit-men haunted my dreams. believe it or not, i find radio more real than television. when i heard about the twin towers being hit, i watched the video once or twice, then i turned on the boom box. the screams of people in the streets, the sirens, all of it seemed less like the cliche the films of the event would eventually become.


and the same goes for movies like clockwork orange. i never watched it, fearing it would give nightmares. this past week the local blue room theatre staged a version, and i found it - may i say, liberating? sex and violence, no wonder it's been a staple of civilization since the beginning. look at roman statues, if you don't believe me. okay, i thought, let's compare it to the movie. fifteen minutes into the flick, i realized the difference. stanley kubrik's version cold as ice, the satire leaving no room for human suffering. 


like radio, the live performance more real. even though it followed the same script, the presence of human beings being raped, beaten, killed, showed their bodily pain in a way the silver screen can only imitate. and because of this carnality, you couldn't accept all people as fools and/or cruel. the villains couldn't get away with merely delighting in savagery. like the hero who's taught to be sick when trying to commit felonious acts, i felt my stomach turn over even as i laughed. i understood the ironies without giving into them.


my friend, dennis polumbo, recently wrote an article on the difficulties of an author creating believable villains, urging the writers to find the potential brutality in the own souls. this not as easy as it seems. i realized long ago people give up creating art for two reasons: they don't want to reveal themselves and they don't want to spend so much time alone. those who persist discover one of the great delights of writing: THE DEVIL HAS ALL THE GOOD LINES. 


i'm convinced any one of us could become a killer, given the right circumstances, and it can become a habit as it did for the protagonist of the brazilian film city of god. our first justification can become a long-term conviction. true, the german soldiers gunning down hundreds of helpless people at babi yar did get sick to their stomachs and the powers that be turned to concentration camps instead. the gunmen learned the lesson of clockwork orange and i hope they suffered like hell. 


my photos from the stage show:


http://www.pbase.com/wwp/clock
http://www.pbase.com/wwp/clock2
http://www.pbase.com/wwp/clock3


and the article by dennis polumbo well worth reading: 
Click here: Dennis Palumbo: Is Your Psycho Killer Just...Psycho?

and a link for the theater: 
http://blueroomtheatre.com/category/now-playing/