Pasadena and surrounding areas

peacocks from beyond the inside

Look what was in my driveway when I came home today,




Three peacocks AND a squirrle.

On the road again

(Sunrise from my balcony)

Home. Only for a little, but it was a good stint. A memorable Christmas for sure. “First Christmas with the in-laws” could sum it up I suppose. Brooks spent it up in Saratoga with Mollie’s family, and I spent it here in California with Mom and Winn. Like I said, first Christmas with the in-laws.

I worry that my over-observation of life leads to a deadening of something. I take note of everything, judgment free, or at least with on open-ended wonder that stays floating forever. Nothing concludes. That which has no beginning has no end, right? So where are we now? Always in motion, endless change, and here I am noting it from here, on this particular branch. And maybe this particular branch is no better than any other branch, but it is unique at least. It is here, in between that branch over there and that branch up there. It is my branch, and I hope I deserve to be sitting this high up in the tree. I need to make efforts towards that. I need to reduce and strip away all the nonsense. I don’t want to be comfortably numb. I need to get back. I want my guidance to be more blunt.

And so in order to do that, since order is just more conscious illusion, I’m loading up my car and headed North in the morning. North to visit a close friend in Santa Cruz who has a life that parallels and weaves with mine in some sad ways, but endured with sweetness even the worst times come to an end, or a pause. There we are, back into the continuum bit. I can never separate the quantum from the cerebral, the inherent from the survival. I wish I could still float on the surface of things. Then again, the surface of things simply is not reality. It may be nice to live there, as noted, but sooner or later the innocence of ignorant frolicking will fade. Best be ready. Then again, maybe it’s just about how to float. I’ll buy that, but there are two different ways to find yourself floating. The first way is the way of innocent surrender, the second way is to come back around full circle, through the depths and the fogs and the darkness of the deep to choose, with the Spiritual Will, to float again. I don’t know if we chose which way we float. Because even a king returns to dust, and you can’t think your way to happiness. Exploration is good for creating space in the self to understand teachings in new lights, but if you explore forever you will never arrive. The journey is the prize, perhaps, but the arrival is the mechanism that allows one to begin again. One may not begin again without arriving.

All that aside, I’m really excited to get up to Nor Cal. I find myself tracing my steps from a year ago. Incredible what a full cycle can bring to the surface. Then it’s back to the mountains to nest and set sights for the new horizon come spring.

Klimt

Everybody needs an Art friend who can send you things like this to look at during your day. Thanks Lauren.

Let's Hijack Boxing Day for the States

Boxing Day is a public holiday celebrated in the United Kingdom and most other Commonwealth countries on December 26, the day after Christmas Day. I don’t know why it’s called Boxing Day, just like I don’t know why Easter is about rabbits and eggs, but I know that on Boxing Day nobody works. It’s big in Australia I know, which is where I first heard about it, so I asked my aussie friend, “What’s Boxing Day?”
“It’s the day after Christmas, what do you mean?” she says. Understandably it’s a holiday with no real meaning anymore, but it does mean that nobody works on the day after Christmas.

I did a little Wikapedia research:

There are disparate theories as to the origins of the term “Boxing Day.” The more common stories include:

* It was the day when people would give a present or Christmas 'box' to those who have worked for them throughout the year. This is still done in Britain for postmen and paper-boys - though now the 'box' is usually given before Christmas, not after.

* In feudal times, Christmas was a reason for a gathering of extended families. All the serfs would gather their families in the manor of their lord, which made it easier for the lord of the estate to hand out annual stipends to the serfs. After all the Christmas parties on 26 December, the lord of the estate would give practical goods such as cloth, grains, and tools to the serfs who lived on his land. Each family would get a box full of such goods the day after Christmas. Under this explanation, there was nothing voluntary about this transaction; the lord of the manor was obliged to supply these goods. Because of the boxes being given out, the day was called Boxing Day.

* In England many years ago, it was common practice for the servants to carry boxes to their employers when they arrived for their day's work on the day after Christmas. Their employers would then put coins in the boxes as special end-of-year gifts. This can be compared with the modern day concept of Christmas bonuses. The servants carried boxes for the coins, hence the name Boxing Day.

* In churches, it was traditional to open the church's donation box on Christmas Day, and the money in the donation box was to be distributed to the poorer or lower class citizens on the next day. In this case, the "box" in "Boxing Day" comes from that lockbox in which the donations were left.

* Boxing Day was the day when the wren, the king of birds,[3] was captured and put in a box and introduced to each household in the village when he would be asked for a successful year and a good harvest. See Frazer's Golden Bough.

o Evidence can also be found in Wassail songs such as:

Where are you going ? said Milder to Malder,
Oh where are you going ? said Fessel to Foe,
I'm going to hunt the cutty wren said Milder to Malder,
I'm going to hunt the cutty wren said John the Rednose.
And what will you do wi' it ? said Milder to Malder,
And what will you do wi' it ? said Fessel to Foe,
I'll put it in a box said Milder to Malder,
I'll put it in a box said John the Rednose.
etc...

* Because the staff had to work on such an important day as Christmas Day by serving the master of the house and their family, they were given the following day off. Since being kept away from their own families to work on a traditional religious holiday and not being able to celebrate Christmas Dinner, the customary benefit was to "box" up the leftover food from Christmas Day and send it away with the servants and their families. Hence the "boxing" of food became "Boxing Day".

Well last night a few of my friends didn’t want to have a late night because they had to go to work in the morning, and that’s when it hit me. Wham! We should really pick up on this Boxing Day deal here in the states. It’s sounds like a great holiday for everyone. Not only is it on the Two Six, it’s the Two Six after Christmas every year, the last Two Six of the year. Once you get a holiday rolling, they never seem to stop, so all we’ve got to do is roll a snowball down the mountain so to speak. I mean, who can imagine there ever not being a Halloween on October 31st every year? You can’t stop that wheel, because the markets have hijacked the mechanisms and turned our celebrations into a formula. For our sake, we should really try and get Boxing Day going here in the States. Instead of fighting the formula, we’ll work with it. It’s already going strong in the outback, we just need to find a way to use that momentum that’s already going over there to stream it into the states some how.
All we need are T-shirts, celebrity spokes persons, “traditional activities,” a good story to tell the kids, and a bunch of songs, you know? Like Easter eggs and the Easter Bunny and Jesus coming back to life, it doesn’t really have to make sense. Give it a few years, let Hallmark and Wal-mart do their thing, and soon enough Boxing Day will make the economy enough money on the cards and decorations and Boxing Day Albums it sells, that it can afford to take the day off every year anyway. Do you see the vision of this investment strategy here? Do you see where I’m going with this? You don’t fight the flow, you surrender to the flow and shape the banks. This might just be a viable a loop hole here. The Holiday Phenomenon Theory. Yeah yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I can see it now, don’t you see it? Can’t you see it in lights in Macy's? Boxing Day. You can hear it whispering in the winds of the people’s minds already. Do you hear it? Boxing Day.
You know what we can do on Boxing Day? Carve watermelons. How’s about that for a good spin off? Brilliant…

airzooka

Mahantesh checks in with a stone from India

Mahantesh, my adopted child who lives in India, has sent another letter! What’s truly amazing about this one though is that he sent me a rock from where he lives so I can put it in the middle of the Labyrinth for him like I said I would! Now we are getting somewhere! Cross-global/cultural/generational communication just took another leap. The thing is I don’t know when I’ll be back to the farm next, so I’m going to have to protect it until then. Now my life has meaning. Here is his letter, followed by my response…

My Dear Mr. Suttle,

In your sweet remembrance with greetings and by craving your blessings a letter from your loving child Mahantesh.

I have received 16 photos, letter sent by you. Your letter was read and explained to me by our social worker. First of all I thank you very much for your concern and love towards me and my family.

I am excited to know that you will call tree which is on the farm in Alabama as “Mahantesh’s tree’. Thank you. My love to your grandmother. I felt very sad to know that your grand-father passed away. I pray to God that He may grant peace for his soul.

I felt happy to know that, your older brother Brooks is getting married to a wonderful girl named Mollie. I saw their photo, both look wonderful.

It’s really shocking to know that your grandma live without pop after 64 years. May be God will support as you have constantly with her too.

I am sending a stone along with this letter as per your wish.

I really enjoyed all the pictures sent by you. I like Sunrise very much. All my family members are keeping well. Here rainy season has ended and winter season has started. Today one my friend told a joke to me. It is the funniest thing that had happened today.

My hearty gratitude to all your friends. My special thanks to each of your family members. With Christmas and new year wish I end this letter.

Your loving sponsor child.

Mahantesh.

+

Dear Mahantesh,

Thank you so much for your stone! I am very excited to walk it to the middle of the Labyrinth! It is so neat to think our worlds are a little closer together now.
My family wishes you a very Merry Christmas and a happy new year! This is the first year my brother Brooks is going to be with Mollie’s family for Christmas, so I am spending Christmas with Mom back in California. There is a lot to be thankful for this year.
After my father passed away over four years ago, my mother was very sad. It was hard to lose her husband so early, but she kept a good attitude and never lost her faith. About a year ago my mother’s friends introduced her to a man named Winn and they have been falling in love ever since. When I returned home to California a few days ago my mother told me that Winn has asked her to marry him, and she said yes! I haven’t seen her this happy in years, which makes this Christmas extra special.
This has been a big year for all of us, and now we have two weddings to be excited for!
My uncle recently moved back to the farm in Alabama to help take care of Grandma and start teaching around the area. Now that I know Grandma is taken care of I have made plans to spend the winter working in Park City, UT. Park City is a ski town in the mountains and I have a job working for one of the resorts. I am excited to spend the winter in the snow even though it will be very cold. It is pretty up there and the people are nice.
Thank you for your blessings toward my Grandfather’s soul. He was a good man with a good heart, and he left the world a little bit better than he found it. That is the best life to lead. I am sure he found peace. My Grandmother has been doing well also. I have only been gone from her and the farm for a week, and already I miss her. She is in good hands though, and I will be back to visit her soon.
I’m sending along a few more pictures for you: Grandma celebrated her 90th birthday the day before I left, so we baked her a cake and cooked her dinner. All the leaves have fallen from the trees for the winter and filled up the Labyrinth. I took a picture of the Labyrinth before I blew them out, and then after. I had to get it ready for your stone! We’ve been planting a lot of trees around the farm as well, so there is a picture of my brother doing just that. We also had a picture of the farm taken from the air so you can see the whole thing. This picture is my favorite. The Labyrinth is where the circle is. Lunar and Crescent are Mollie’s cats. I miss them too.
I hope you and your family have a great first of the year. A friend of mine sent me this blessing for Christmas and I want to pass it on to you because you are my friend too. I hope you enjoy it. In my next letter I will send you some pictures of me in the snow.

Best wishes from all of my family to yours,

Cole Suttle

-

Fra Giovanni’s “Letter to a friend” 1513

“I salute you. I am your friend and my love for you goes deep. There is nothing I can give you which you have not got. But there is much, very much, that while I cannot give it, you can take. No heaven can come unless our hearts find rest today. Take heaven! No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instance. Take peace! The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take joy! Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty…that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven. Courage them to claim it, that is all!...And so I greet you, with profound esteem and with prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.”

emotions are sea

Emotions are so funny (that’s an emotional statement I know). They drive us, we fear them, we crave them, we are them, yet we are not them. Sometimes we do our best just to keep them at bay, keep them distant, down there somewhere so we can stay up here and be ok. Emotions shade our perceptions of right and wrong, they secrete from our glands, they secrete from our friends, families, and lovers. Emotions are everywhere, within everything, a part of everything, and yet they are a part from the thing sometimes too. The thing, I think, is the self, or the equilibrium, or the center point of balance where the scale tips and wobbles and centers itself. Emotions are sparked by other things, emotions spark other things, emotions are a paradox we can never separate ourselves from, and yet we spend our lives, day to day, trying to do just that. To separate what is me from what me is feeling. To sort through the emotions with some other part of our self, the rational part, the linear part, the thinking part. When it comes down to it, we are all playing a game we cannot win. We cannot win because it is unwinable. Emotions are part of the fabric of our experience. We do not choose them, we feel them, and then choose how we feel about the feeling. It isn’t about winning I don’t think. It isn’t about not feeling. It’s about accepting and taking a step back once we do. Emotions make the world tangible, exciting, overwhelming, and when they aren’t there it can even be boring. We throw words at our sensations of emotions to try and deal with them better, to try and chop them up and make them manageable, but the word is never the emotion. And the emotion is never the gland. And the cause is never the effect. The truth about after is the cause is before. We live on, sailing the seas of emotions inside of us, hoping the right one will come under our boat next. The right one is not always sweet or sour, it is simply the right one because it is the one that is present. Merry Christmas everybody. Do you feel it?

+
Halley’s Comet
Phish

How could you know that I lived in a desperate world?
How could you dream that we were all made out of stone?
What is the truth, what is the faithful lasting proof?
What is the central theme to this everlasting spoof?

Knock on my windows, link up the chains
It's gotta be easy, no splinters no pain
It's Cadillac rainbows and lots of spaghetti
And I love meatballs so you better be ready

I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
Central part of town, I'm going down
I'm going down to the central part of town

What did I do?
And don't be blamin' eat my cashew
For everything I do to get the story
And everything I do to pull me in
And everything I say to get the title
But when they use it on me I reject it

What would you do if you ate my daddy's shoes?
What would you say if it was naturally for you?
How would you feel if it rained under your shoes ?
How would you like to have your thick strawberry goo?

I'm sinking down, it's a glorious feeling
To make a big difference, my body is reeling
Even Carl Sagan can't shine my shoes
`Cause I know deep inside he’s got some mighty fine shoes

I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town
I'm going down to the central part of town

Dorothy and Toto

"I don't think we're in linear spacetime anymore, Toto."

"one candle for every 90 years"

It was the best 90th birthday bash ever! Brooks and Mollie cooked dinner while Marybeth and I decorated the tree that Jim and I cut down and brought in a few days earlier. Marybeth and I did the best with the decorations and lights we had, which were mighty old and eclectic, and I’m pretty sure we used some of the same lights and ornaments Dad must have used himself at one point. If only the Christmas decorations could talk! He did teach me how to put lights on the Christmas tree after all. We ate soup, then dessert, and then the meat- because when you’re 90 you can do whatever you want! “You’re 90 Grandma! Go crazy!”

I haven’t even been gone a week and I already miss it. Looking at the photo of the cake Mollie made next to the fish I can’t help but think about how those fish got there! The county fair of course! And that makes me think of all the other little stories all the other little things have behind them. The farm is so full because of those little things with little stories. Like the painted protectors of the fish bowl, which are from the Pig Roast when everyone got into arts and crafts. What is Quality? Layers and layers of stories is Quality.

I feel like a ship that’s pulled up anchor and now I’ve managed to landsail all the way out here to California. I left Columbiana and spent the weekend with friends in Dallas, then to El Paso, and then an extra special stop in Scottsdale, AZ to see where Corey gets her character from. I pulled into town yesterday and already all sorts of big news has come. Now’s not the time for that, but Winn arrived today sans luggage thanks to the airlines, and tonight we’re going out to eat with everyone. I’m tending to like the slowed down mellow Christmas approach. Sometimes the holiday’s can be sad, but this year they’ve been turning out alright. It’s a long and a windy road- until we reach the light.

tell my feet, i made it home

Tell My Feet I Made it Home
by vinx

If on a mountain I could stand and see
Below the roads where I have been
The endless Reach would
Hold me where I am
Would I clearly see
What I could never find?
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home – we made it home
If I could walk beside the shore and hear
The ocean whisper grace once more
A voice so clear
To those that feel so blind
Would I believe
What my heart knew all along?
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home – we made it home
Lookin’ on the inside
Lookin’ on the outside
Why must I walk to find where I can stand?
Trust me eyes to see me through
Ooh they always let
Me stumble so blind
Only my heart
Knows the truth to take me home
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home
Tell my feet, I made it home
Tell my feet, we made it home – we made it home

reflections and directions in a weave form

(Check out this newspaper clipping I found in a drawer here last night)

Chuck and MaryAnn King, two of the nicest folks you’ll ever meet, had a Christmas party last night. I remember hearing stories about Chuck King and his band from my mother for about as long as I’ve been hearing stories about Columbiana. Mom tells me she used to sing in his band in high school, and Lance and Troy used to take lessons from him when they lived down here years ago.

Chuck and his family have been living in the valley for about as long as Grandma and Pop have, I believe. Their house is a staple on the drive from town to the farm, but for all the years I’ve been driving by it, I’ve never made it in, until last night. Chuck’s both a trumpet player and a trumpet teacher, and every Christmas he invites his students and their families over to play Christmas songs and sing along. This was my first year attending.

So there I was, drinking hot apple cider and singing “Joy to the World” with Chuck, and I got to thinking about how this is sort of like what Mom used to do. Maybe not so much has changed in the world after all, which reminds me…

I suppose I haven’t made the official announcement yet, and now seems like as good a time as any. A few days into December I got the call that my friend had found me a spot to live in Park City, in a loft above a nice lady in an old old house, up on the mountainside right close to town. It was a jewel of a find, especially this late in the season, because winter housing tends to fill up months in advance. To try and get a single is nearly impossible, but in a single day all the pieces fell into my lap and came together. It felt clear that this was what I’d been waiting for.

Now I know at one point or another I’ve said I wouldn’t go back to Park City this year, but I think that was the part of myself that doesn’t like to see myself have too good a time. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t go back because I wouldn’t enjoy it, quite the opposite actually. I said I wouldn’t go back because I was worried that if I went back once, I’d go back ten times. There is a pace of life up there I had the opportunity to taste last winter that is so great, so self-contained, so sweet, if you’re not careful you can slip into a lifestyle adjustment that sets the clock for the rest of your life. Again, not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just that I’ve got a lot of work left to do to get the 2012 Music Festival underway.

Fortunately Bowen explained to me that two winters is actually the way to go, and only after two winters do you have to worry you’re drifting into year round ski bum status. Heck, if Bowen hadn’t gone back her second year she would have never met James, and now look where they are? Getting married in May.

Not that I’m looking for a bride, I’m just looking to buy a little more time living life for life’s sake before I choose a life path that’s a little more long-term. Two years feels full circle, and a full circle is nature’s perfection. The other thing is that now that I know what I’m doing, now that I’ve already been there for a season, there are so many things I can do a little bit better, like getting a single for instance.

The only problem last year was that I didn’t have any place I could go to be quiet and write. Living in employee housing was a trip back to freshman year in the dorms, which was one of the funnest years of my life don’t get me wrong, it’s just communal living has its limitations as far as how much control you have over the way you live. Humans are adjusting creatures, we adapt to our surroundings. Now that I have a single, and I’ve learned everything I’ve learned living down here since last winter, I believe a marriage of my ski bum self and my writing self is going to be possible.

The mountains are one of the most inspiring places to be. Sitting in the lift shack eye level with the clouds and staring out into the valley is one of the greatest creative laboratories I’ve ever been in. When you don’t have time to write all the day’s revelations down though, the visions tend to just keep on floating up into the sky, which is fine too. But this year, I’m going to go for a yolking of my two better halves.

Sorry, I digressed. I’ve been meaning to tell you guys that and I guess it slipped in right there. But anyways, back to the Christmas party and thinking about heroes.

When Brooks and I walked in the party was already well underway. We had missed a message or two and found out about the gathering last minute. Mollie wasn’t feeling very well, but Brooks and I have been meaning to get over to see Chuck and MaryAnn for some time now and we really wanted to go.

Chuck was upstairs directing the band and MaryAnn was tucked away around the corner somewhere, so at first we didn’t see any familiar faces. We mingled slowly and soon enough we’d been greeted and led over to the cider. We let Chuck know we were there and then sat back and enjoyed the music.

A nice looking lady came over and introduced herself as Emily Radkin and asked me what my name was.

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you at church with your grandmother before…”

“Oh yes, hi there. My name’s Cole Suttle and this is my brother Brooks.”

I told her, and then she told me a golden little tale that seems to optimize something about what’s it’s like to be from a small town.

“Well I thought so! I went to school with you parents, and I remember when I was in 7^th grade your Daddy was a senior in high school, and those Suttle boys were just, ahhhh!” and she clutched her chest and looked to the sky with a sigh and a dreamy eyed expression on her face. “Ya’ll two come from some mighty fine folks I hope you know. How’s your mother?” and we drifted into some lovely Christmas time small talk.

I don’t know why hearing things about my Dad that I’ve never heard before makes me so happy, but it does. These things feel like puzzle pieces that you can’t go looking too hard for, but when they come, they just come. Hearing about how Dad was the high school stud especially makes me smile, and proud. It’s the proud of papa feeling again, and it reminds me to count my blessings.

Brooks and I walked over to get more cider and met Emily’s husband who saw us coming and asked us “Are ya’ll Suttle boy’s?”

“Sure are,” we said. “I’m Cole and this is my brother Brooks.”

“Well I want you to know that your grandfather taught me Algebra at the University of Montevallo years ago. Coached me through it might be a better way to say it. I know I sure wouldn’t of made it through that class if it weren’t for your grand-daddy coaxing me through. He sure was a fine man. I used to come over to the farm and help him out whenever he needed something. Your grandmother’s about the sweetest thing in the world too. How’s she getting’ along? Sure is good to have you young boys around here. Good good.”

Another type of pride and joy swept over me and I knew I must have had a silly looking grin on my face.

“That man was an original,” he went on. “Yup, that’s about the best way to say that. Your grand-daddy was an original. Don’t find too many like him.”

Frank Suttle was and original indeed, both of them. Sometimes it just clicks and I find myself living Dad’s life for a split moment, and this time it was Pop’s.

“Columbiana is just one of those story book little towns.”

There is no right way to express the honor and gratitude and fortune I feel to have such an inside view on what it means to really be FROM somewhere, without having actually grown up there. Not a big suburb where everybody is a stranger, but a small little town where everybody knows your name because they know your mama and daddy and they know their mama’s and daddy’s too. Small towns where your offspring meet your schoolmates and your neighbors are more like your family.

So though I’ve leaving for the mountains, my first Christmas party at Chuck and MaryAnn’s house represented everything that is great and special about what it means to live in a small town for a long time, and I won’t soon forget it. I’m glad I stayed down here as long as I have, because when I come back it won’t be like I’m just coming to the farm. When I come back, it’ll be like I’m coming home. Like I said, this isn’t where I’m from, but this is where I came from.

God bless this place and all the people in it.

some photos

presidential inspiration

Travis stopped through and offered me the chance to go down to Gulfport, MS with him to help him film this weekend. He’s working on a documentary piece about a man named Pat Smith who was Habitat for Humanity’s 2004 volunteer of the year. Some of you may remember hearing about an airplane that took off on the wrong runway in Lexington, KY this year. The plane subsequently crashed, killing 49 of 50 people on board, and Pat Smith was one of the passengers on board. He was actually on his way back down to Gulfport where he was heavily involved in the building of a number of Habitat house’s for families who had lost their home during Katrina.

Why is it that bad things happen to good people? Perhaps good and bad are not so clear cut, on any frontier. Whatever the reason, it seems to be that when bad things do happen to good people, the most powerful lessons are learned. Go figure. In the wake of tragedy, goodness has the potential to rush in and fill that space. In the case of Pat Smith, and the dedication of these 15 or more houses, that seems to clearly be the case.

In memory and honor of Pat Smith, a large group of Kentucky volunteers, as well as volunteers from all over the country, have been coming down to Gulfport since August to finish and complete the home project Pat started. This weekend was the dedication ceremony, and former President Jimmy Carter was slated to say a few words. Travis needed and extra hand to operate his second camera, and I was in the right place at the right time to do so. It was a great experience all around. Inspiring really. There really are a lot of caring people in the world, and to see the looks on the faces of the new homeowners really makes you think about how much difference individuals can have on others. Influence for the better. Be conscious of your vibe principals at work here, no doubt.

My favorite part were the newly planted trees in front of each of the houses. I think I’m seeing an angle for the Treevolution to take root…

(Notice Travis right up in there)

(Travis right up in there again)