Tuesday, March 31, 2009

What do you do if you fall down a rabbit hole?

All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little hands are plied
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide

Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?

Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict to 'begin it'-
In gentler tone Secunda hopes
'There will be nonsense in it!' -
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.

Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast -
And half believe it true.

And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by,
'The rest next time -It is next time!'
The happy voices cry.

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out -
and now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.

Alice! a childish story take,
And with a gentle hand
Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers
Plucked in far-off land

--Lewis Carrol

"Walkin' After Midnight," Patsy Cline

Monday, March 30, 2009

Of not owning.
of walking through this night together,
Scavengers of beauty.
I think about having and what I would lose if I didn't have to reach for you:
a spattering of stars
harvest moon
handsewn pads of paper to scribble how much I love you on,
strong feet
a birdcall echoing
nightwind through the pines,
and unboringness
arising from the dictates of necessity.
In stretching out my arms to embrace you
I sweep up succulence in between.
This is what love can do;
it can make us the inheritors of kingdoms,
dwelling in castles
--though not owning them in deed.

Running with this in my hand today....

lveo. peace~

Sunday, March 29, 2009

wanderlust, neighbors

True Living Project

I cannot figure out how to put just the video on here so this will have to do. Don't you think that maybe we should all get together and have tea party in a park? A  assembly with Sabrina Ward Harrison and the traveling neighborhood and cupcakes? That could very possibly make the world a better place.

t h i s i s t h e e n d n o w b e r e b o r n

c/0 p u l s e r e p u l s e

letter from hrvatska

let me tell you, plainly,
that i was falling down
from something very tall-
oak or, eucalyptus
linden maybe cherry
blossom i mean, yellow blossom-
down, landing then some
big air only air i got,
pushed it quick
inside to the out

pullin' little branches
outta my hair what it feels like is,
sometimes still, this down

Friday, March 27, 2009

Important Things


Have you seen this? I mean...imagine, for a moment, if you took the collective consciousness and bottled it into a lava lamp. This is what you would get. And it's just utterly eerie and fascinating.

Also, I think you should know that I designed and finished three websites this week, and tomorrow I'm going to draw comics, and I want to roar like a mighty, mighty lion.


away message

gone lofty awhile

smile’s wide as
the wide
of a triplejump stride

feel I’ve gotten away
with something
with love

been ocean awhile

been a wave in waiting

moon’s coming soon
with my sentence

moon’s coming soon saying
away with him away
with him

our family writes haiku

like flowers i bloom
and emerge from cruel winter
the rains never cease

r.m. basant

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

shaving the head

today i posted on facebook that i was "seriously contemplating shaving my head again this spring/summer" and oh the comments that followed.

some people know that in May of '96 i was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma...i fought it, beat it and am living. i'm still battling in my own way...the side effects of chemo...the mental/emotional side effects of having to suck it up and be strong...that's the hardest part. i never processed my "wall" out but i'm working on it.

the comments ranged from the positive "DO IT!" to "you can work it girl!" to the sexist "i haven't seen you in a decade and i shouldn't have more hair than you..." to the joking kinda insulting, "Maybe we can all paint and use your head as our canvas!" to the questioning my motives, "so what's up? what's with the publicity?" to the "likes"...you know, the thumbs up feature.

i was 1) shocked to have 20+ comments on this one little thought; 2) amazed at what was coming out of people (sexism, shallowness, pettiness) and 3) disappointed that some of the people who know me and my history just didn't get it...i wasn't expecting praise but i was definitely not prepared for others' negative reactions to my desire to once again shave my head.

"why are you shaving your head?"

why? because it's time. in may it'll be three years since last i did it.

shaving my head is a way of reminding myself...to not take things/people/experiences for granted. to love what i am living...with or without hair. i am more than what sits on my head. i am more than "publicity" or "making a statement" and i am definitely not interested in your petty thoughts/feelings about how my self-empowering actions negatively affect you.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

world-changing news


"CThings is the work of a community of people who contribute news stories about the amazing things people are doing to change the world. From poverty to peace, from space to the environment, from obscure villages to world capitals, the CThings community aggregates stories of real innovation, breakthrough, and the triumph of the human spirit."

maybe you found something, somewhere

Monday, March 23, 2009

fists clenched, soles firmly grounded upon the earth, eyes staring up at the towering cyclone

plan b is for cowards.

Jamie, I think this is for you.

I found it yesterday...


wandering, brave family.
i am having a very un-brave day.

i feel. like i. can tell you that.

i'm tired.

of sending friends off to places.
and staying here.
of slipping my time card in the machine.
and turning on the computer.
of feeling forgotten.
of losing my passion.
of overcast eyes.
defeated, always.

i'm tired.

of letting it happen.
of crankiness, and whining,
and not counting my blessings.
i'm tired. of being. the one
who can't see good in her life.

i'm tired.
oh wandering, brave family.
you are b r a v e .
i am not so brave.

it is tiring not to be brave.
i wish i was courageous.
and. lionhearted.

i'm trying.
i'm trying.
oh, i am trying.
to be. brave.

i am trying to be brave.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Friday, March 20, 2009

"principal periphery"

on pre-writ epitaphs
you spoke 
under your breath 
cat calls
your truth too soon
words that the silence 
greedily stole
words that the darkness 
thankfully shielded
and we had a piece
as love's principals
and we had a peace
resting on our periphery
as a rebuttal
i whispered your name
into back worn sheets
as if the creases 
would keep our secret
as if the folds 
would hold us warm
and we held peace 
out to the periphery
and we cast love
as our life's principal

selene santiago

Dear Brave Wandering Family,

You do Haiku.
Do you also do epistolary relationship?

I thought that since we are all in
other places,
I could have one with you!

i am from houstonboulderparisbostonlondonsanfrancisco,

and sometimes I find myself engaging in acts of
intellectual vandalism...
(Martin Luther did it!)

Recently, I have made you this magnet,

(Isn't it the back door that always leads to the water?)

This week I was in New Orleans,
and I posted your magnet in the most important places!

There was a parade going on at the time....

I also think mythology is an important medium
for a culture.

And because I believe in your mission-
and because you are beautiful (inside and out),
the mythology is going to be you*

*of course!

I have already made one story.
It is about when I met Megan Dally in Paris in 2006.
It was completed at 7:00am November 1st, 2008;
and it's called,

"The Revolution of the Mommies:
a mother of a revolution.
'It's about the hive and the honeybee!'"

It's for trees, who are always awake,

And it's about seeing our stuff with new eyes...

I made it from stuff that I found,
and an old photo album of our family that my grandma
was going to throw away.

It is also about bringing vision into reality.

and cuffs!

(I also like to start trends,
I think it is fun!
Maybe we can start some good ones together!)

Dearest Traveling Neighborhood,
I will be winding this down soon.
I just wanted to let you know what I'm up to.

I have a three times weekly blog on elephantjournal.com,
but I will reserve my more personal thoughts and plans for you.
I do have a very important mission to fulfill,
maybe you will understand.
~more on that later.

for Now,
lveo. peace~
Spread the Word!

your fairy godmother*


Monday, March 16, 2009


i've been made a writer at
e v i l m o n i t o magazine.
here is my first published article,
about one of our own
traveling neighborhood
august 16 & 17 performers.

it makes me happy on the inside.
and on my face.

amy's book-and-lovely tour needs you

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


slow down's the muddled message
of spirituality and have a looksee's
the poetry and all we're meandering about is that love's
winwin when all that's splendidly
around you's death's requests
for spare parts. see god
if I may drop the name, can never get
enough limbs
for to dance, believe us nothing
is wasted not even

Monday, March 9, 2009


i am thinking of doing a very big painting
of a very big treehouse
and i cant get it out of my head.
back and forth, like ghosts like milk thistle
to prague, to osinalice
and déjà vu in my pocket keeps comin' out
its like i dont know how to dress in winter clothes
clumbsy in muddy colours and tangles
in all of my hair
and dreaming at night feels like
trying to get something back.

forest walks
and feathers
and anna karenina.

dirty socks
and edith piaf
and květiny.

i am saying, please.
i am not a kite song,
or a perty face or a soft
animal pretty please
i am saying, dont
tell everyone you know we know,
i know.

and i think, sometimes people change their minds.
and i am thinking, dear dear deer i am
hearing it, along with some song
about arizona.

i have so many things to tell you.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

about haiku

Since haiku has become the watermark of the Traveling Neighborhood, I thought I'd share a passage I read tonight:
To write haiku, to become this intimate with the moment, the poet must completely disengage, if only for an instant, all of his or her interpretive faculties. The mind must become one with the world, a detail of the world—the splash, a peach blossom, a neon sign flashing along the highway, the sound of a mountain stream. The poet's craft has to slip through the intellectual filters and instinctively record the image that has been perceived. As Basho said, "In writing, do not let a hair's breath separate you from the subject. Speak your mind directly; go to it without wandering thoughts." For an instant, the artist opens to the ineffable truth of Zen. With the self out of the way, the world advances a step.

—John Daido Loori, The Zen of Creativity

beside a lake in march

lips so crisp with ice
and breath of pine, one last kiss
before the springtime

our family writes haiku

delight uncontained
and freely, lavishly spread
love you dear family!

danielle luchtenburg

1000 Journals

Maybe you know about this already. Maybe you should...
Also, the 1000journals website doesn't seem to be working at the moment but there is also this related one:


the world's biggest shortest film

Saturday, March 7, 2009

because i am not yet a tree

written after being inspired by the thought and action of planting all these beautiful trees, our traveling homes:

absurd in this space
our feet on the planted earth
birds by the skywalk

Hagstones, blue turtles and other special moments

Memories, moments & special things that bring good luck and a warm heart and far away thought hugs...

Friday, March 6, 2009



anon, anew morn
nicotine, sun and caffeine
stair-top coffee shop


Thursday, March 5, 2009

"city purr"

glorious morning
city purrs in shades of blue
my cold paw in yours


Wednesday, March 4, 2009


food for thought
from futura in prague

participating artists: Silvina Arismendi (UY),Vasil Artamonov & Alexey Klyuykov (CZ), Matei Bejenaru (RO) Ondřej Brody (CZ),Valentino Diego (IT), Tomáš Džadoň (SK), Amande In (FR), Eva Jiřička (CZ), Jaroslav Kyša (SK), Dominik Lang (CZ), Anna Orlikowska (PL),Tereza Severová (CZ), Julia Vécsei (HU), Liang Yue (CN)

Travelling and meeting different cultures as a way of finding one's own identity, through the mirror of diversity, has been expected from visual artists for longer than we normally think. From the XVI to the XVIII century Italian cities (specially Rome and Florence) were supposed to be the best places for artists to travel to, where to spend months or years copying from antique models and getting acquainted with the most recent artistic trends. In XIX century and until the Sixties Paris became the place to be, with most of the new art movements being started here, and attracting an accordingly large numbers of artists from the whole world, to be followed by New York in the Seventies and Eighties.

In an age of multipolar development and multicultural societies there are no clear cut centres to take the lead. The art process itself has changed, and the role of models in art making is much less appreciated or cared for, at least at a conscious level. The main art cities attract of course large communities of international artists, but the accent is rather on the diversity of the individual art scenes, which are appreciated in their individuality and specific values. Some of the most interesting art works are indeed being created in peripheric locations and have a very hybrid parentage. Artists - specially young ones - are on the move, and welcome travelling to different cultures as a way of experiencing different life styles and questioning accepted values.

The accent is more on the movement than on the stay : long term, year-long residences are not accessible or attractive to many young artists for various reasons, whereas shorter stays of months or weeks are increasingly common and have come to be accepted as an indispensable "rite of passage" in the career of (almost) any self respecting young artist. Artists' mobility has become a priority that many art institutions cherish and cater for. Artists themselves welcome any interesting chance of getting out of their studios and circles to meet.. what? The large world outside. The deep aspiration of many artists to escape the narrowness of the art ghettos - as contemporary art increasingly cut itself out of mainstream society - seems to be fulfilled, or at least attenuated, by full immersion in the everyday of different cultures. So the artists turn into self-taught urban ethnographers and leave to explore - usually with irony and critical detachment, but often with participation and enthusiasm too - the uses and customs of the visited cities, be they a few hundred kilometres from their own city, or on the other side of the world.

The exhibition presents recent artworks from Czech and international artists who have taken part, during 2008, in the residences run by Futura and its partners in Prague, Castle Trebesice, Bratislava, Budapest, Birmingham, Warsaw and Shanghai.

"split sky"

gravity split sky
spilling droplets of our love
your face moist with pain


our family writes haiku

I long for bright air
and the scent of wilderness;
it longs for me, too.


Tuesday, March 3, 2009

our family writes haiku

Words Fail Me when I
Describe my Desire for this
Blessed Neighborhood.

ryan lucchesi

hello and haiku and dawn

hey, hello, hola to an extension of my artistic family.  i look forward to creating with you all at some point or another and beyond...so, as my first entry, i give you a haiku from yesterday and the painting "dawn" from one of my favorite artists, odd nerdrum.

fractured, a bit torn
love binds its mangled, bruised wings
flapping, flapping, still


lovely tour

the beckoning of lovely is having a tour of lovely gatherings across the u.s. (if you don't know what lovely is, maybe start here)!

this is the latest underground update from amy, to the neighborhood and beyond:

"If you live nearby or have friends/family that do, I hope you'll join us for '60 minutes of Lovely.' The gatherings will be held in all kinds of cool places, and we'll be doing stuff together for the sake of the final movie (perhaps even shooting scenes) and for the sake of simply having a good time and connecting."

Friday March 13
City: Portland, Oregon
Where: location TBD
Time: 6:30-7:30 pm

Sunday March 15
City: Portland, Oregon
Where: Grasshopper Store, 1816 NE Alberta St
Time: 11:00 am - noon

Tuesday March 31
City: Houston, TX
Where: Blue Willow Bookshop
Time: 6:00-7:00 pm

Saturday April 25
City: Los Angeles
Where: L.A. Times Book Festival, at the Target Kids' stage
Time: 3:45 pm

Monday April 27
City: Los Angeles
Where: Children’s Book World
Time: 10:30 am

Tuesday April 28
City: LaVerne, CA
Where: Mrs. Nelson’s Shop
Time: TBD

Tuesday April 28th
City: Irvine, CA
Where: Location TBD
Time: 6:00-7:00 pm

Friday May 1st
City: San Francisco
Where: Location TBD
Time: 6:00-7:00 pm

Saturday May 2nd
City: San Francisco
Where: Books, Inc. 2215 Chestnut (in Marina)
Time: 11:00 am
Also: early evening event/gathering TBD

That's enough for now. Please know that I will also be touring in Baltimore (May 17th), Washington D.C. (May 18-19), Cambridge/Boston (May 21) and New York city (May 30). Details forthcoming.

Monday, March 2, 2009

leaving praha

we have one odd hour to kill before i take my train. L. laying on the ground, singing "little person" to herself while czech announcements play (always preluded by organ music) and drilling from the station construction rattles. we are sitting on cold concrete indoors and i'm reminded of katka in slovakia eight years ago, when she told all of the girls in our group the superstition about how your ovaries will freeze over if you sit on the ground. i wonder if the czech republic has the same superstition, since they were once part of the same country.

we are still bundled up, even though we are indoors. it's cold. now L. is sitting up and putting on her headphones because she just has to actually hear the song. she has red yarn in her hair but the rest of her clothes are gray and pale blue. she is singing along to the music, kind of loudly, like an eight year old little girl, and sometimes looking at me and beaming a big smile as she goes. sometimes i think we must look like a pair of mismatched "american girls" dolls together, she in her soft pastels and country fabrics, skirt layers over courderoys, pale rose porcelain skin, long curly tangles, and me in my dirty city boots and legwarmers, tights, browns and blacks and bright teal, kitchen scissor bangs, mascara, red scarf.

she is in a daze now, watching strangers and absently singing to herself, and i'm tempted to pick up my book, because i can't get tomas and tereza out of my mind. but it is our last hour together until, when, we're not sure, maybe two weeks or maybe six months, and i think we both want to be present with each other and talk, or something. i already passed her the cuff, and she gave me a beautiful drawing (of winter now, and spring soon), and we talked about our time in wroclaw and in prague and also about all that is yet to come, and we made long lists and thin sandwiches. but there's still time left and really mostly, it just feels normal to just be normal.

straight ahead is a deli with a sign reading "obcerstvem lahudky," selling rolls and bottled water, and to its left is a money exchange place where everything seems to be in english. and between here and there are payphones and WCs that are no longer in order (L. checked, there are only new ones around the corner, but they charge money, and we're out). pigeons, flying around indoors and waddling close, curious what crumbs we may have dropped from our very carefully rationed cheese and jam concoctions. construction zone blocked off and geometric red ceiling. a sign for the narodni divadlo opera - evzen oregin. the photo is of a man's dress shirt (white), unbuttoned on a coat hanger, with an old dingy letter sticking out of the pocket. shadows behind and a cast of greenish light over the whole thing. premiery: 20 a. 22.3.2009. suitcases rolling past us, and more organ music, and more drilling.

"okay, ready?" she says. "this line is for us!"

as she starts to sing it, i realize that she has moved on to denison witmer, and we look at each other with understanding eyes and grin as we mouth the words together:

"and it's easier, i'm sure, to use a city map
but can't you find yourself by wandering till the parts connect?"

our family writes haiku

making numbers flow
watching digits dance on screen
balance is my goal

lee lawlor

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Everything moves real slow when it's 40 below

This is my foray into the Traveling Neighbourhood, aside from thinking about it alot. I only know one of the family by face, but I think that I know the community by heart. In a far flung community inspiration is so important to growing ideas & new ways to live & old ways to dream. In the middle of winter when it's -44 degrees C

(my eyelashes literally froze together today. I spoke with a lady from Siberia who told me that it was colder in Regina... then she told me the the key to a better life was a husband... sigh) & all we want to do is hibernate & sleep. So we make lists of things that make things better: 

& dream of other times & places & people. And continue to believe that when my energy can be devoted to things other than keeping my internal organs from freezing solid... I will create again.
Being brave in the hardest year in colder Canada.
"Everything moves real slow when it's 40 below" - The Canadian Dream by Sam Roberts 

our family writes haiku

river humid light
in gentle evening whispers
you are welcome here

amy delap jendrzejewski