Fire: from the personal to the global

Fire
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Usually, I focus on whatever impacts my personal situation--reveries about life in general, my continuing education, and of course, my family. However, this morning I heard a voice that prompted me to write about something that was tested not far from here at the White Sands Missle Range Trinity Site.

What I heard was the computerized voice of Steven Hawking as I listened to CNN on the SatRad. At first, I thought I was hearing some outtake from Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. Intriged to what I could locate on the intertubes, I googled "doomsday," where I found this article at Nature.com, which stated: "The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists has moved the hands of its Doomsday Clock to five minutes before midnight — the metaphorical marker of the end of humanity."

The Doomsday Clock is a serious attempt to focus the public's attention on the devastating power of nuclear weapons and their proliferation, whether dirty bombs to the U.S., Russia, and other countries acquisition them. And according to the bulletin, we are that much closer to midnight.

From there, I went to You Tube to see what the keyword would produce. I found two, which are appropriate. The first is by 19-year-old Nightmare415, who posted this video last summer.



The other video is by Juan Carlos Marti (aka josecarlosmarti). Marti's provides an excellent "fail safe" metaphor to the clock immediately before it strikes midnight. (embedding disabled at their request).

While we cannot stop the hands of that clock, we can stop and think about where our leaders are taking us now. Whether in their bellicose rhetoric, or their actions, we have the responsibility to voice our opinion through letters to the editor, online petitions, and of course, our vote.

Ephemeral Christmas gifts

trying them on for size
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Every year, MJ's aunt, who lives in the Milwaukee area, sends a cache of old family photos along with her Christmas greeting. Each time she writes, in her elegant Palmer method hand, “You probably have these already, but I'm sending them to you just in case.” While we have many images that his mother and father left, we usually haven’t seen the ones she returns.

These little gifts are true Christmas surprises--full of fun and memories. What more can you ask from a gift? In fact, who says a gift must always be glamorous, practical, or costly? These small pieces of paper cost nothing, yet each is embedded with its own small story that money cannot buy.

chrismas window
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Their effect looms large our minds as we remember holidays when we were four or five years old. We remember long forgotten memories of stenciled window panes, tinseled pine needles, and frosted breaths in December air. All float to the top of our consciousness, and only then do we realize another year has flown, and the holidays are here once again. What memories are we creating this year? How will we send memories to the young? Are these URLs we create the future Christmas card memories for others? Only time will tell.

my kid that blogs moves east

Curtie and her Police hat
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

a blogger moves east
(with apologies to frank o'hara)

will you have a goodbye/wrap-up
for the blog
b 4 u
leave?
will you blog on the road from
yr tree-o?

remember, we love you.

call
asap if you need

H E L P!
call, even if it is 2:00
in the morning
and you
are driving down
a foggy
road, with a foggy
mind, and
need a chat
while shannon sleeps
and mister
cat purrs.

call, just to say
hey! i'm at
i-forget-where, AR
at the Waffle House!

call when you reach
the NY state line!

call when you
get to brooklyn

call, even it's all good.

and most of all,
call us when you get there.

ps-we love you
xoxoxo
c

The knitted afghan for curtie by her grandma Lucille

Knitted Afghan by Lucille
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Before I became pregnant with Curtie, my mother-in-law began a very beautiful and complicated knitted afghan. Everyone in the family would crowd around and question Lucille about just who the lucky recipient would be. Finally, after too many questions, and also exasperated that there was no granddaughter yet, she made an agreement that the first granddaughter would get the knitted quilt.

From the start I had a feeling that Curtie was a girl, so I never thought about the project. But once I had her, that was the first thing that everyone said after congratulations--hey, she's going to get the afghan! First, it was kept in Lucille's cedar chest, safe from sunlight and dust. Later, when Curite graduated from high school, she was given her gift, and we've kept it for her until tonight. Tomorrow, Curtie leaves here and will drive back to Oztown; then in a few weeks, she will leave it for good and strike out on a new adventure in NYC.

It's good she can take with her a part of her family history.

The painting in the Judge's room

You have new Picture Mail!
Originally uploaded by curtie.

this weekend, curtie stayed in the judge's room. funny, i've never thought of photographing this painting, although i like it very much. it's very strange having one daughter missing during the holidays and it will happen again next month. that's why curtie came home this weekend because she will have moved to nyc by christmas. which reminds me, i'd better take a picture of the knitted comforter her grandmother made before she takes it home. more to follow.

I know they go too far

Nothing much going on this side today. I'm about to sign off, but I thought I would insert a pointer to a new post left on my alternative blog, which shows a darker side.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

This building sits across the street from MJ's office. While I’ve never heard if this building is haunted, I know that MJ’s office is. Part of the building is a doctor’s answering service and they have 24-hour shift workers. At certain hours of the night, the operators refuse to walk down the hall, especially if they hear footsteps and feel cold air.
But back to the apartment across the street. It is rare that there is not a car sitting in front of the building, so I was glad when I saw the place all decked out for Halloween. Twilight was ending and no one was on the street. This apartment building has an interesting history for me. Years ago, there was a fire on the top floor. Curtie and her friend Amy were there that day and the girls saved a singed and very scared kitten. Amy kept the kitten, and they named her Whistlebritches.

Earlier this summer, my aunt and cousin came down from Colorado for my uncle's funeral. We reminisced as we all gathered around a box full of old family photos that my cousin secured from her father's house. As we went through the black and white photos, we discussed how my dad lived a block away from this building. His apartment is now the location for Sen. Eliot Shapleigh's law offices. Then my aunt remembered that this apartment building was where she and my uncle first lived after they eloped. She married him at 15 and my uncle was 21. We kept talking, remembering, laughing, writing names on the backs of photos and then, before too long, it was time for them to leave for Colorado. Unfortunately, I wasn't able at the time to find out where their rooms were located, though.

Seems as if everyone I know passes through this part of town at some point. In addition, the apartment is a couple of doors down from the H & H Carwash, and its famous Mexican café.

Amsterdam :: At the mall, by my friend, Urban Chill

At the mall
Originally uploaded by Urban Chill.

This marvelous photo by my friend Urban Chill caught my eye the second I looked at my postage-stamp sized Flickr contact images. Contact images of contacts; contact lenses, contact paper, contact us now....

And while they are not friends in the real flesh and blood sense of the word (we don’t have Meet-ups or Art Mail projects or long telephone conversations), we are compatriots in the global family of photographers. We shoot, we score; we upload, we explain; we comment and we kvetch about world events, family successes, and personal triumphs. We are there for each other, whether or not we know it. We support each other by saying “I am a contact/friend/fellow snapshooter of digital/film/medium format/toy camera pictures. I like your's and you like mine.”

That is why I chose to post Urban's image here. Evidently now, even in Amsterdam, or especially in Amsterdam, photographers are harassed and told “you cannot take photos here!” We are not out to harm anyone. We are there to capture things that interest us. We are there to document our part of the world, which makes us closer to those who view our images. We are cameras. I am a camera. I shoot, therefore I am. The photos of the people are the eyes of the gods.

Thanks Urban Chill, you keep me grounded and attached to the wider world. Thanks to all, for we all work together. Whether Reddirtrose, El Paso Joe, Silvertree, Brenda Anderson, [kren], magic fly paula, ! »☺►/streetart#───█ -_- ©██, foxglove, tchatchke, meowmeow, curtie, LensENVY, Elena777, .natalie, Mr. Yuk, gem66, Santxvike, tejas962002, or one of the others: We share a passion to communicate and share. And I thank you for being “out there” for me.

MSU :: Hubbard South at twilight

MSU :: Hubbard South at twilight
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Yes, yes I know. Where have all the blog posts gone, long time passing (sorry about that Pete, I could not resist).

Well let's see, there was a death in the family in late June (and I promised myself I would write about its impact, but haven't yet, which must mean something). Then July was uneventful, although the Judge, MJ, and I spent a lot of time getting ready for the August trip to Michigan, which arrived much too fast because…all of a sudden, August was here, and we were gone to take the Judge to college.

While there, I shot many film and digital photos to document her move-in/transition to college life. Along the way, while holed up in a way too small Red Roof Inn, a Starbucks, and the Judge's dormroom. I uploaded the images. Now they are in a set on Flickr. Before we knew it, we were saying goodbyes,and then MJ and I returned home--just the two of us. Que muzak and fade out.

But wait! Immediately upon our return, I began graduate school (albeit a week late) and since then, it's been one long state of panic and terror. No, not really. The terror and panic come on Tuesdays and Thursdays between the hours of 10:30 AM and 5:50 PM. In contrast, I can’t sleep Monday and Wednesday nights in anticipation of the following days' terror- and panic-filled hours. Although, Thursday night is best because I have Friday all to myself.

While this is a bit of a histrionic and stratospheric POV, I wouldn't have done it any different—except I'd try to be more organized. And write more blog posts so that I don't have to sound like I'm apologizing for something. And read my journal articles before class begins. And get out and take more pictures downtown like my friend Mondo Loco. And, and, and...

RIP Luiz Jimenez :: Sculpture entitled The Sodbuster

RIP Luiz Jimenez :: Sculpture entitled The Sodbuster
Originally uploaded by chacal la chaise.

Sometime in the late 80's, Luis Jimenez loaned his sculpture entitled The Sodbuster to the El Paso Natural Gas Company for display. While I did not see it on display (photo by my boss at the time, James Dean) I found a wonderful 8x10 print in the files at the company when I worked in the PR department a decade later.

Sadly, Luiz Jimenez died yesterday and the world has lost an incredibly gifted and innovative artist whose sense of fun and irony permeated all his works, including his most controversial, "End of the Trail (with electric sunset)."

Article Launched: 06/14/2006 12:00:00 AM MDT

Accident kills creator of plaza's 'Lagartos'
By Daniel Borunda / El Paso Times
El Paso Times
Luis Jimenez, the El Paso native whose fiberglass sculptures made him an internationally prominent artist, was killed Tuesday morning in a freak accident in his art studio in Hondo, N.M., authorities said.

Jimenez, 65, was the most famous artist to come out of El Paso, with his work recognized from barrios to President Bush's ranch home near Crawford, Texas.

Around 11:50 a.m. Tuesday, Jimenez and two of his employees were moving a large statue piece with a hoist when the piece got loose, struck Jimenez and pinned him to a steel beam at Jimenez Studios, Lincoln County Sheriff R.E. "Rick" Virden said in a news release.

Jimenez received a severe leg injury and died at Lincoln County Medical Center in nearby Ruidoso.

The death of Jimenez created a shock as it spread by word of mouth through the arts community in El Paso, where Jimenez's "Vaquero" and "Plaza de Los Lagartos" sculptures have become civic landmarks.

Jimenez was a major figure in Chicano art and a pioneer in public art. His vibrant fiberglass sculptures are found in parks from Albuquerque to Fargo, N.D., home of "The Sodbuster" statue.

Last week, the Cleveland Plain Dealer newspaper reported he was working on a Cleveland Firefighters Memorial that was to be ready by the fall. The statue was supposed to be finished by the end of 2004, but the date was pushed back in part because Jimenez had suffered two heart attacks.

"He was one of the most original artists on the planet," said Becky Duvall Reese, the former director of the El Paso Museum of Art. Jimenez's "Vaquero" -- a 20-foot-tall statue of a Mexican cowboy on a bucking horse -- stands in front of the museum.

Jimenez's work often reflected his border and Southwestern roots. He often said he was inspired by his sign-maker father, a Mexican immigrant.

"I have a way of looking at the world that is somewhat unique, that is not maybe totally mainstream," Jimenez said in a 1995 interview with the El Paso Times. "I would hope that I've helped people have insights into the world we are living in."

Art gallery owner Adair Margo said Jimenez will live on in his work, including the "Texas Waltz" lithograph purchased by first lady Laura Bush that is now at the Bush ranch home.

"I think Luis shared this border region with the world. Those images will continue to live on," Margo said. "You look at the images he left us, you realize he was a voice that mattered, that gave form to this region and communicated it with people. He was a man of just incredible talent, but he also had great generosity of spirit."

Daniel Borunda may be reached at dborunda@elpasotimes.com; 546-6102.

El Paso Times reporter Adriana M. Chávez contributed to this report.

Photo by James Dean

Heavy Cloud, No Rain

Sadly, if you drive along the newly completed section of Loop 375, you can see those who are most likely to care less whether downtown is revitalized or

not—the northeast, far east, and Mission Valley areas of town. And why? Well, IMHO it's because they believe we have no mass transit to get the homebodies into and out of the downtown/entertainment-to-be districts.

Yet last week, The Judge and I had a good time, driving from I-10 West/Transmountain, through the mountain, gliding past Parkland Middle School and over Dyer Street, onto the newly refurbished Loop (by Ft. Bliss and Airport land.) Around the bend, flying over Montana, we then headed onto the newly completed eastern Loop section, which was the reason for our adventure. And as clouds followed and surrounded us the entire time, we hoped for rain.

From the highway, we saw miles and miles of tract housing stretching out

eastward, surrounding Montwood High School, a place which when first built, used to be in the middle of undeveloped land. We continued and drove past the eastside manufacturing and call centers, then drove along the newly constructed section with its elaborate bridge details at I-10 east at Avenue of the Americas. Finally, we began our count of high schools that lie along the Ceasar Chávez Border Highway, which is the southern stretch of the loop—Del Valle, Riverside, Bowie.

Approaching the downtown area and Segundo Barrio, we saw the elaborately tagged and graffed boxcars stopped next to the border near South Florence and made the final and semi-hazardous 45 degree turn to the right onto Santa Fe Street. Approaching Paisano, we saw a halfway demolished Tampico bar and

upper tenement apartment building (across from the now defunct fire station whose number escapes my memory, but one thought to be haunted).

Turning onto Paisano we headed for home and by the time we past Asarco’s tower, we had logged about an hour since we began. Sadly, my odometer is on the fritz, so I don't know how many miles we traveled. Yet, in that one hour we saw “heavy cloud and no rain*” views—lots and lots of anonymous plots where people live individual stories that we will never know or appreciate. And while we don't have lightrail, a third rail, or non-stop a/c'd super trollies, we do have a mostly completed loop that is a near circuit around the city--and it will help. In fact, someone from the hinterlands near Montana could conceivably drive non-stop to the downtown area in about 20 minutes. And I think that's pretty slick.

*Heavy Cloud, No Rain
Sting, from the album Ten Summoner's Tales

Turned on the weather man just after the news
I needed sweet rain to wash away my blues
He looked at the chart but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain

Back in time with Louis XVI
At the court of the people he was number one
He'd be the bluest blood they'd ever seen
When the king said hi to the guillotine
The royal astrologer was run out of breath
He thought that maybe the rain would postpone his death
He look in sky but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain

Well the land was cracking and the river was dry
All the crops were dying when they ought to be high
So to save his farm from the banker's draft
The farmer took out a book on some old witchcraft
He made a spell and a potion on a midsummer's night
He killed a brindled calf in the pale moonlight
He prayed to the sky but he prayed in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain

Heavy cloud but no rain

The sun won't shine till the clouds are gone
The clouds won't go till their work is done
And every morning you'll hear me pray
If only it would rain today

I asked my baby if there'd be some way
She said she'd save her love for a rainy day
I look in the sky but I look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain