Laumeier Sculpture Park and Museum

The story of the Laumeier Sculpture Park and Museum began in 1968 with the gift of 72 acres of open land. Now, there are over 60 large scale sculptures scattered throughout the 105-acre open-air sculpture museum. We visited the Laumeier one evening, and took some amazingly funny photos. However, to protect the copyrights and creative licenses of the many internationally-known and nationally-celebrated artists who own the art pieces, the Laumeier has a rather strict photo-film policy that prohibits us from posting the photos of the sculptures on the internet. Although I'm not posting those photos on nothing but HAT's, here is a pic of the late evening sky.  Imagine walking around the greens looking at art sculptures underneath this orange sky. Isn't it gorgeous?

Saint Louis History Museum: 1904 World's Fair

If you have not read any accounts of the magnificent 1904 World's Fair held in Saint Louis, then you must visit the Missouri History Museum. I went to see the exhibition and it was fascinating. I wish I had been there at that time to witness what humanity deemed to be the splendors of progress and innovation.

Saint Louis Scenes: Windows

While driving through downtown Saint Louis one day, I saw this building with the circular windows. For some reason, the three round portals called to me in a peculiar way. Perhaps it was because the scene looked like the windows has somehow captured some essence of the blue sky and the white clouds, like they had been trapped inside all that brick and mortar...

Peet's Coffee Under the Arch: Happiness Comes to Saint Louis

I am a happier woman now that the very first Peet's Coffee & Tea has opened in Missouri. Actually, it has been open for a little while now, but still it feels like it's brand new. Because Starbucks and the St. Louis Bread Co. basically have the monopoly in Missouri, it is hard for Peet's to get a toe in the door (this is what a Peet's employee told me). So, in all the state of Missouri, there is ONE Peet's Coffee & Tea located in downtown St. Louis, in Laclede Landing on North 2nd Street, near Eads Bridge over the Mississippi River. People say that St. Louis with its Arch represents the achievements of humanity, the forward movement of the human spirit, a testimony to progress and endurance, to commitment and creativity, to invention and innovation. Now that Peet's is here in Saint Louis, I believe in that progress has been made indeed. Amen.

Peet's Coffee & Tea: 999 N.2ND Street, St. Louis, MO 63102. Phone: 314-881-7562. Only 5.88 miles away

a Photo Essay: because I love the air we breathe and the languages we live by

I believe in doing everything we can for cleaner air. You can do this in several ways:

1. Breath less air (more for me!)
2. Carpool
3. Take the bus
4. Take the train or subway
5. Ride a bike
6. Walk

Saint Louis Arch

Go here to see my first view of the Arch. For more scenes of Saint Louis, click on the HATtag "St Louis" at the bottom of this post.

Slice of Pi: Green Pizzas for Your Conscience

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A few days ago, we heard from a very reliable foodie that Pi was the place to go for great pizza. We also heard that the owner of Pi was invited to bake Pi pizzas for the Obamas in 2009. (More interesting press about Pi can be found here.)

So, the Sister and I went to the Pi location on the Loop (other locations can be found here), the street which incidentally was renamed Barack Obama Boulevard, and to our delightful surprise, we discovered that Pi is an intentionally GREEN establishment that is also mindful of its communal responsibilities. Double kudos! I invite you to take a few seconds and do a happy dance with me to celebrate the fact that Pi serves up two wonderful things on God's green earth: great pizzas and a green conscience. Please note what Pi prominently proclaims on its very own website:   

Pi is committed to environmentally benign success. Doing good while doing well is fundamental to our work, and is manifested in our commitment to create an ecologically sustainable restaurant.  Pi invests in its community by sponsoring charitable events, donating cash and in-kind gifts to causes close to its guests and founders. While we may not be saving the world as a purveyor of Pi, we feel we can still affect change, influence others, and support the work of those in our community who are closest to those in need. 

Couldn't get the 3rd fella into the photo!

 Upon arrival, I was immediately taken with the wonderful summery atmosphere enhanced by the bright red umbrellas outside the main door, and the three chickens standing atop the half-wall in the middle of the pizzeria. Since we were seated at a table directly below the chickens, it seemed like they were overseeing that everything was in order -- that our pizza was hot and fresh, that our server was attentive and nice, that our neighbors were appropriately quiet -- but I also had a feeling that these gigantic overseers were going to peck me to death if I didn't eat everything on my plate. Don't worry, I cleaned my plate. In fact, I think it looks rather like I licked it (but I didn't!): 

Besides providing exceptional food (just read the menu), Pi upholds a model Mission Statement (establish pi as the premiere purveyor of the finest artisan pizza in the st. louis area while maintaining our commitment to social & environmental responsibility) alongside a Green Statement (to be a green steward, setting an example for restaurants, businesses & consumers to minimize our carbon footprint & create a healthier dining experience) to warm any green-pizza-goer's heart. What more could we ask for? Right?

What we ordered: Deep-dish deliciousness of half Bucktown and half Berkeley (b/c I needed to assuage my nostalgia for Berkeley).

bucktown – mozzarella, roasted chicken, artichoke hearts, red bell peppers, green olives, red onions, feta and sun-dried tomatoes. ($18 small / $23 large)

berkeley – mozzarella, portobella mushrooms, onions, kalamata olives, red bell peppers, garlic, and zucchini. ($16 small / $20 large)

I would encourage you to visit Pi if you are in the St. Louis area, because coming here, you will eat heartily and eat well. I guarantee that this will be a great dining experience that leaves you feeling like you did something good -- not like you didn't you something bad. A caution: The pizzas (especially the deep dish specials) are very hearty and a small size will suffice portion-wise for two people. The Sister and I ordered half of two different pizzas, and it was more than enough. We each ate two slices and even brought home some leftovers (and we didn't have any pre-pi or insalate). I would recommend ordering family style instead of one pizza per person; even the small sizes are fairly big. I say this because (1) it is MORE FUN to share pizzas -- you can try a slice or two of multiple flavors and ingredients, and (2) you waste less food.

I lift up this reminder because as the Sister and I were leaving Pi, we saw a table that had not finished their pizzas and I think if we put together all the slices that remained, we might have had one full pizza. That is sadness, folks. There is hunger out there and though I would never know that kind of hunger here, I do know it exists. This is real hunger that lasts and which gnaws at the stomach -- it's the kind of hunger which leaves you incapacitated, because you can eat 5 bowls of rice but you've only been given a spoon of water and you only get the spoon of water for an entire day -- for 10 days straight. Someone I knew described this hunger in this way, and I believe that we can combat that hunger. I wish that the folks who ate at Pi today had thought about it before they ordered. [Once, when I was at Zachary's Pizza in Albany, a friend and I had leftovers and when someone on the street asked us for money, I offered them the pizza and they took it. I'm not suggesting that everyone do this, but it is one option to consider.]

Blogging about food has not been a regular habit here at nothing but HAT's. Although I love food (it's not just for survival), I'm not a foodie and I can't pretend to write smart things about food and/or restaurants. Given yesterday's posting about the Chocolate Bar, however, plus what I've written here, I feel like a glutton -- as if I only think about food (in a gluttonous way). I am aware of the larger issues out there in the world, and I believe we strive to live each day as beings who are mindful of our neighbors near and far who are in need. We know the situation of global poverty and we have the resources to end world hunger. Therefore, let us feed ourselves, but let us also remember: eat well, eat heartily, eat mindfully.

This is the location we visited:

Pi @ the Loop
6144 Barack Obama Boulevard (Delmar)
St. Louis, MO 63112
314.727.6633 – phone
314.727.6655 – fax
Hours: 11am-Midnight Monday-Saturday | 11am-11pm on Sunday

Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts: Where Art & Architecture Meet

Earlier today, I visited for the first time the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts. Intentionally built in the developing district known as Grand Center of Saint Louis (go here to read more about the Pulitzer's urban context), this magnificent gem brings together the arts and architecture, inviting all visitors to re-imagine, no, re-invent, our preconceived ideas of creativity, art, culture, space.

The website explains: "Designed by Pritzker Prize-winning architect Tadao Ando and situated in St. Louis' Grand Center district, the Pulitzer presents changing exhibitions and engages in a variety of programming initiatives involving the visual, literary, and performing arts." You can visit here to explore more about the architect who designed the Pulitzer, hear his reflections on this building, as well as read his biography.

After you've seen the current exhibition (more on the exhibition in a later post) inside the Ando building, you must not neglect to visit Richard Serra's permanent piece on site: the Joe sculpture, which is a torqued spiral comprised of five pieces of weathered steel, each weighing 25 tons. Yeah, you read that right. 125 tons of steel sitting under the Saint Louis sky. It sits permanently in the courtyard of the Pulitzer, and is a marvel to look at (but no touchy-touch since one brush of our fingers could make an impression lasting six months).

This is what Serra says about Joe:  When you walk between the walls, you become implicated in the tremendous spiraling force of the movement. The velocity projects you ahead into an open interior space which frames the sky. Joe cannot be grapsed as Gestalt or image. The sculpture is understood behaviorally as a function of time.  "Everyone thinks my medium is steel," says Serra, but he is quick to correct that misconception. "My medium is space," he says, and being inside the sculpure is like "being inside a steel womb". Once inside, you are made completely, fully, deeply aware of the space encapsulated by the steel spiral. The docent who talked us through/around the Joe said that, to her, it seemed as if the artist was intentionally trying to waste the visitor's time, forcing us to walk along the path of the spiral towering over our heads, only to be led (by what force, by what inertia?) into an empty space. There is nothing inside. Yet, instead of a sense of loss, the spiral's "center" somehow generates an awareness of potential, of possibility, as if you were waiting for creation to happen while standing in the midst of that spaciousness. 

This reminds me of the experience of a poem. Even before entering into the spiral, even before that first step into that enclosed space (where your left and right are "fenced" in and you can only go forward or backwards with very little room -- and you are warned not to touch the sides), there is great anticipation. As I walked forward, I could tell that my expectation was building, and I hurried along the gravelly, spiral path towards what I expected was something awe-inspiring which would fill me with "wonderment". Once inside, I cannot help but look up, raising my eyes above the dark rim of the spiral to the clouds in the blue sky, feeling and seeing the sunlight pouring down -- so much heavier and weightier because the steel spiral has pushed all the spaces toward me...  Like a poem, that feeling of expectation, anticipation, wonderment.

Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts

3716 Washington Boulevard
(between Grand Boulevard and Spring Avenue)
St. Louis, MO 63108
Phone   314.754.1850
Fax     314.754.1851

Decadence in Moderation: Bailey's Chocolate Bar

If you've never been to Bailey's Chocolate Bar in Lafayette, MO, then you are missing out on a delicious bit of decadence, and you must, must drag yourself there immediately. After reading this blogpost, get into your car and drive to the Chocolate Bar post haste because it closes at 1:00 a.m.

The Chocolate Bar is a full bar and restaurant that has all things chocolate and everything seems lathered in decadence, served in perfect ambiance. Chandeliers, candles, and walls painted deep-red create an intimate setting for two, but you can also bring the kids or your rowdy bunch of friends for a birthday-celeb happy hour wrapped in chocolate (we saw all three scenarios when the sister and I went today).

Although the Bar serves regular food fare, why would you want to eat the normal stuff when you can have the normal stuff served with chocolate?! This is the sort of place where you go eat here and then diet for the next week, or diet first for an entire week, starve yourself all day, then head to the Chocolate Bar during happy hour (4-7pm everyday!).

Tumble Cake ($9)

Baked Brie ($8)

Under Plated Desserts, you will find the Tumble Cake:  Rasberry & Lemon Filling, Vanilla Shortbread Cookies, Quenelles of Vanilla Ice Cream, & Rasberry Sorbet ($9). I've seen individuals lick this entire plate clean, however, I find it too rich and creamy (especially if you inhale all the raspberry sorbet within 5 seconds of the server putting down the plate), so I shared it with my sister.

There are also other options:  Layers of Chocolate Cake Accented with Chocolate Stout, Bittersweet Chocolate Ganache, and Cinnamon Ice Cream ($9). Or, if it's a romantic evening for you plus one, then go for the Lover’s Plate – Aphrodisiacs – Taste for Two: Cherry Chocolate Mousse, Spicy Truffle, Fruit Truffle, Dark Chocolate Espresso Truffle, Carmelized Banana, Strawberries, Nuts, Mead, all served with a Warm Spiced Dark Chocolate Sauce & a Warm White Chocolate Lavender Sauce for Dipping & Sharing ($20).

Or, if you've courage (and fasted for a sufficient amount of time before entering the Bar) and would like to try some ice cream desserts, then you might try Bailey's Banana Split: Caramelized Banana, Bailey’s, Chocolate and Vanilla Ice Creams, Nuts, Housemade Chocolate and Caramel Sauces and Whipped Cream ($8).

Thin Mint Chocolate Martini ($8)

Perhaps by now you already feel like your heart valves are closing shut because of the cholesterol and the fat from all these sugars and chocolate. Maybe you'd like to balance your sweet palette with some fine cheeses? Well, you are invited to mix and match from three different categories (some samples from each category are as follows): Category A: Emmenthaler, Gjetost, Danish Blue, Maple Smoked White Cheddar, Port Salut. Category B (very eclectic international selections): Tomme de Savoie (France), Stilton (England), Antique Gruyere (Switzerland), Mahon (Spain), Old Amsterdam (Holland, aged gouda style, floral), Black Diamond Cheddar (Canada). Category C: P'Tit Basque (France), Rustico (Italy, pecorino-style sheep's milk with spice), Roquefort (France).

I am a glutton for brie, so we chose the Baked Brie from the Savory list. It was wrapped in mixed nuts, served with diced bacon, tangy green apples and toasted pita wedges ($8).

Under the Martinis section, you can select your choice of liquid dessert, served from the highest quality chocolate vodkas. We tried the Thin Mint ($8) which was served with a sweet little chocolate straw. Yum.

Perhaps you'd like chocolate beers? How about Young's Double Chocolate Stout (21 oz. @ $6), brewed with melted chocolate bars for a smooth, velvety finish. The Drinks Menu, my friends, continues for 10 pages. You will swoon. The sister and I sat for a long while brainstorming about a new online journal that she is launching, so we lounged, ate, drank, and absorbed the atmosphere. Families came and went, birthday groups sang birthday songs and took photos then left after eating their fill, and several couples arrived holding hands and slinking into darker corners... We sat there talking about journal names and taglines, and the server was decidedly patient and kind with us. This is a great place to bring friends from out of town. I enthusiastically recommend it!



Baileys' Chocolate Bar
1915 Park, In Lafayette Square
St. Louis, MO 63104
Monday - Saturday: 4pm - 1am
Sunday: 4pm - Midnight

Letters to the Old Country

Hom nay nho den cac ban o ben phuong xa. Cac anh chi van khoe chu? Moi su tot dep, vui ve, an lanh? Sao khong nghe thay tin tuc cua cac anh chi em gi het... co let o xa nen minh it lien lac voi nhau. Tiec lam la khoang cach that xa lam minh phai dan dan ma mat lien lac voi nhau. Co rat nhieu dieu minh muon chia se, tim hieu va hoc hoi ve cuoc song o que me, que nguoi. Nhung, khong le luc nao minh cung phai di tim nhu la ke mo coi di kiem nguon song? 

[Photo source mreclipse.com]

Connect to Your New Christian Social Network

No doubt many of us are overwhelmed by the plethora of social networks available for our perusal these days. Since there are too many to recommend, it has been a long while since nothing but HAT's introduced a site to its readers. As some of you might have noticed, though, I was recently contacted by one of the editors at Christian.com, asking to cross link our sites. I'm happy to oblige... For those of you who are interested, check out this neat international Christian network which seeks to connect Christians around the globe. This ecumenical site needs your contribution to be truly inclusive of all perspectives, theologies, and denominations. Not only are you able to find churches, schools, and other Christians community activities, you may also search for Bible passages in different translations (although I much prefer BibleGateway since it offers a greater number of translations and versions), as well as Christian music posted by the network's users.

Joining is relatively easy (see the link under HAT Shoppes), and you'll quickly find that you have connected to a worthwhile community of faith believers. It is entirely possible that you'll see, hear, and read different perspectives that just might challenge you in interesting ways... Isn't that what it means to dialogue with one another as the body of Christ? You never know what you'll discover until you try...

Whitaker Music Festival: Funkify Yourself...

On the last Wednesday of June, we went to see Dawn Weber and the Electro Funk Assembly perform as part of the 2010 Whitaker Music Festival at the St. Louis Botanical Garden. The weather was cool and breezy, and because we arrived super early, we snatched a great patch of grass to the left of the stage, in the sun but partly shaded. Lovely. It sort of made me forget that I was no longer in the Bay Area.

One of the best things about the Whitaker Music Festival in the Gardens is that you can bring your own picnic and set up almost anywhere -- for FREEEEE. It was great! There were folks who wheeled in tables, champagne bottles, glasses, cheeses and delicious grapes. Others brought their BBQ and coolers with delicious food. I saw one couple who brought a cute little round table and votive candles; they sat around it with wine glasses in hand, reclining in armchairs. It was wonderful to see! Definitely go again next year!

Side note: This is a smoke free environment, which is much more preferable than the Saint Louis Summer Concerts (formerly Live on the Levee) which are sponsored by Budweiser et al. We went to the Clint Black concert (he was DIVINE!), but there was a lot of smoking, which I didn't much care for. We were also not allowed to bring in outside food and drink, so we set out our stuff on the sidewalk right outside the metal gate they set up around the perimeter and plunked down to enjoy our lemonade and chocolate. (It didn't take too long before an entire family of like 10 people showed up and hunkered down right next to us on the right, and then several more couples sat down to our left. And everyone brought their own food and drinks, too!) If the organizers had allowed people to bring in their own food and drinks, the concert would have been better attended. Oh, and if only Clint Black wasn't scheduled to perform at the same time as Lady Gaga at Scottrade Center, that might have helped. Overall, the country music was great!

The Good Samaritan or Pollack on Paint by Numbers

The lawyer was a party crasher who attempted to entrap Jesus in answering:
What is the greatest commandment (he thought he knew he answer to this one)?
Who is my neighbor (maybe he was caught off guard by this question which sort of rose out of nowhere)?

Jesus was telling the lawyer to go out of his comfort zones to find/located/define/acknowledge all who are his neighbors; that is, don't just go to the neighborhood familiar to you or the one already defined, fenced in, prescribed by others; "neighbor" doesn't just mean the person who've known all along, but the person whom you might have never known at all; that is, go into the unfamiliar territory, the space that is not your normal "Jericho road", paths you might not typically travel to discover the new neighbors of your diverse communities

Paint by Numbers: Jesus isn't giving the lawyer the same palette of colors to work with; in fact, he is telling the questioner that there are no pre-drawn lines inside which you have to paint, and the colors can be all mixed -- nothing like matching numbers with colors. Jesus is pulling a Jackson Pollack on this Paint by Number idea: go wild, go out of the expected, go out of the ordinary. Use your mixed media and be creative because in being creative, you are recognizing the God-like potential in yourself, instilled in you by our Creator God.

The Story of Cosmetics: Toxics In, Toxics Out

Do you know what toxins are put into the cosmetics that you use and which eventually seep into your body? To learn more about The Story of Cosmetics, go here.

To know more about the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, go here.

a Reading at the Dawn Hour

To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that love is the reason for my existence, for God is love. Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name.

If, therefore, I do anything or think anything or say anything or know anything that is not purely for the love of God, it cannot give me peace, or rest, or fulfillment, or joy.

To find love, I must enter into the sanctuary where it is hidden, which is the mystery of God.

- Thomas Merton

Behind the scenes at The Great Paris Review Poetry Purge of 2010: part 2.

Behind the scenes at The Great Paris Review Poetry Purge of 2010: part 2.: "

This is Part 2; Part 1 is here.

On July 16, just days before Lorin Stein sent out an email to several poets to un-accept their work, he remarked to the New York Observer that he was “putting together what he hopes is a “holy shit” poetry section for his first issue on September 15.”

In June, Mr. Stein oversaw the transition of Meghan O’Rourke and Dan Chiasson, poetry editors under Mr. Gourevitch, away from the section and brought in Robyn Creswell, who is working toward a doctorate in comparative literature at New York University. “My original background is more in poetry than in prose, so I have my own views,” said Mr. Stein, who studied poetry at John Hopkins University.

Dan Chiasson, a respected poet-critic, took over the co-editing the Paris Review‘s poetry section from Charles Simic in Fall 2008. “I now feel like I’m involved in all steps in the poetry production chain,” Chiasson told Poets & Writers in January 2009. “I write poetry; I teach poetry, which exposes me to fresh and unformed young minds; I review poetry for newspapers and magazines; and now, at the Paris Review, I read unpublished work by accomplished, award-winning poets and rising stars, and have a hand in selecting it for publication. It’s very thrilling to be so involved and to see the differing mind-sets of students versus poets submitting work to me.”

Flash forward to July 2010. “I was disappointed to hear that some of the truly great–in our judgments–poems we had accepted were likely to be cut,” Chiasson writes me yesterday from Facebook mail. He uses the “our” pronoun, referring to his co-editorship with Meghan O’Rourke. “I do support Lorin and his vision for the magazine, which is why I was pleased to be asked to stay on as “advisory” editor. I’ll personally look for other ways that I can help the poets getting bad news–it’s a top priority to make certain this work gets the recognition it deserves.”

Just how many poets’ work has been purged from the production schedule remains unclear. I now know of four poets, and I’ve sent out requests for comment and information from each, and I’ll be posting that soon. Here’s what I’ve learned: that it was not unanimous decision to clear some of the decks to make way for Lorin Stein and Robyn Creswell’s poetry picks.

What is also clear, based on my interviews with several people who know of the situation at Paris Review–but not running it; I still have yet to hear from Stein and Creswell–is that more even more work would have been cut from the Review’s pages if not for Chiasson and O’Rourke staying on in an advisory capacity. That next “holy shit” issue of The Paris Review, in other words, may include work that was to be cut by Stein and Creswell, but was saved in some fashion by their predecessors. Perhaps those entries on the Table of Contents should bear an asterisk.

***

What is above is reportage; here is part of my take on the situation and is certainly subject to debate and comment.

This is by way of making clear why these events merit as high-profile coverage as I am make them out to be. Few would quibble with Paris Review’s place as an anchor store publication credit in the shopping mall of a book’s acknowledgments page, one of the first that would be mentioned in a short and essential writerly bio. The Paris Review is perennially placed in the top 10 journals for a poet in which to publish his or her work; that ranking is arguable among poets and poetry editors who keep a sharp eye on which journals publish those who work is up-and-coming and who are established.

There are various scenarios for how an editor might treat previously accepted work when he or she takes over the reins at a literary journal. At a movie studio, it’s not uncommon for projects to be shelved, sold, dumped; at a book publisher, manuscripts are back-burnered for years, decades, or are given a letter such as Stein’s that addresses an imprint’s new direction. But I would argue literary journals are a different animal altogether; the stakes are lower, sure. Little if any money changes hands, and a single credit in a single journal usually doesn’t make or break a career.

The editors of literary journal—and there are hundreds, even thousands of them in the United States alone—abide by few, if any, common universal regulation. I would say that one bylaw would be that when work is accepted for publication, it is accepted. When a new editor takes over the reins from a predecessor, one of that person’s first tasks is to see what work has already been accepted, what submissions have yet to be read and ruled upon. This is one of the many unsexy jobs of a literary journal editor, but hundreds perform these tasks every day. When I took over La Petite Zine, there were several writers whose work has been accepted. I should point out here that my taking over was not a peaceful one; my predecessor had been let go by the publisher of Web Del Sol for unclear reasons and I didn’t want to know. But I did abide by those previous agreements. Am I a particularly ethical person? I don’t think so. Might this be the reason La Petite Zine has the status it has and Paris Review remains at the top of the heap? Perhaps.

Another explanation is that editors at The Paris Review see themselves as more of a magazine—along the lines of, say, The New Yorker or Harper’s, as opposed to Open City or Fence. In the former’s world, a short story abuts fragrance ads, and work is spiked, kill fees paid; in the latter world, funded by subvention or spouses, run from college cubicle or attic from a laptop’s folder, there exists an honor among thieves in the literary journal world, where all or most concerned realize the stakes are so low that some

Another explanation is that Stein, a former editor at Farrar Straus and Giroux and Cresswell, a PhD student in New York University’s comparative literature program, are still learning how to run a literary journal. All—or most?—of the previous poetry editors at Paris Review have been poets themselves and, and one would assume, would have a knowledge of how literary jourals are run: Richard Howard, Donald Hall, one issue guest-edited by Ed Sanders. That line of succession did not go unnoticed to Dan Chiasson, a Wellesley professor and author of three poetry collections (one on Knopf), when he took over for from United States poet laureate Charles Simic.

I’ll add links and proofread and add more soon.

Filed under: Lit "

The Cordoba Initiative

An excerpt from a piece by Joe Conason at Salon.com:

To clear the air clouded by all these noxious effusions, it’s important to understand some basic facts about the project — and about the Constitution that Palin, Williams and the rest of the Tea Party movement claim to defend. 
The victims of 9/11 included numerous Muslims, as anyone browsing the memorial sites can see. Most of them were working New Yorkers who labored as cooks, waiters, cleaners and security guards in the World Trade Center — people whose suffering concerned the perpetrators of the attack no more than those of the thousands of other Muslims they have murdered in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and elsewhere around the world. No religious faith has an exclusive claim on opposition to Islamist terrorism, and no religious group should be excluded or stigmatized in memorializing that opposition. The people who want to build Corboba House have every legal right to do so, and those rights are not subordinate to anyone’s religious prejudice.

The Cordoba Initiative, sponsor of Cordoba House, is an organization that rejects violent extremism and encourages civil dialogue between the Islamic world and the West. So far nobody has found any evidence that Corboba represents a nefarious conspiracy to establish a beach head for Islamism, despite much windy rhetoric devoted to that theme. Moreover, contrary to Lazio’s posturing, New York Police Commissioner Ray Kelly has declared bluntly that he sees no security concerns in the construction of a mosque in that neighborhood. His calm, measured and appropriate response represents the realistic perspective of a law enforcement official who does more to fight terrorism every day than Williams, Lazio or Palin will accomplish in their combined lifetimes.

Finally, the constitutional guarantees of freedom, including freedom of worship, were not suspended by 9/11, despite the efforts of certain politicians and partisans. As Mayor Michael Bloomberg pointed out in defending the Cordoba House project, its opponents are undermining the liberties that define us and distinguish us from our enemies:

"I think our young men and women overseas are fighting for exactly this," he said in reaction to Palin. "For the right of people to practice their religion and for government to not pick and choose which religions they support, which religions they don't." Scott Stringer, Manhattan’s brave borough president, who like Bloomberg happens to be Jewish, challenged her directly in his own tweet: "@SarahPalinUSA NYers support the #mosque in the name of tolerance and understanding. You should learn from the example we set here in #NYC."

To read the entire article, go here.

Hidden Beauty in Tilden Park

Somewhere in Tilden Park is this quaint little pond which my friend and I stumbled upon (twice) as we meandered our way through the trails. It was a hot, hot, hot day, and we two were traipsing about in our sneakers and walking shoes, with no water bottles in hand, and only a little bit of sunscreen and a digital camera. I miss Tilden Park, and I miss Berkeley, and mostly, I miss the weather!

We Gotta Eat Too, You Know

For the better part of Sunday, I was mulling over the sermon that I heard preached at the UMC church I attended yesterday morning. The Gospel lesson was taken from Luke (our oft-times unreliable narrator), a favorite among many, and the story we hear in chapter 10 is about two sisters, Martha and Mary, who are, in their own right, veritable Mistresses of their Domain. The sermon generated so many thought-bombs that at 2am this morning, I started a blogpost.

Whenever I hear this story, I am irritated by the simplistic either-or perspectives that preachers present. More often than not, I'm asked to consider whether I'm more like Mary or more like Martha (and Mary's image is always the more positive one, whereas Martha is depicted more negatively). Although some well-meaning speakers offer "alternative" interpretations of this story in chapter 10 of Luke, I still can't help but think that Martha (and even Mary) gets short-shrifted and therefore her pragmatism is often depicted in a negative light.

I'm not a bible scholar so I don't know how to go to the original text and see if it exegetes itself, thereby shedding some light on the situation. Yet...yet I have to wonder... And isn't wondering what we're supposed to do? Aren't we supposed to talk back to the text? Engage with it, turn it over and over in my minds to see all the nuances?

With this story, my inclination is to believe that Luke got it wrong (perhaps), and that his version of the narrative unnecessarily sacrifices these two women (or at least the depiction of their familial relationships) just so he can teach us a lesson. Sometimes, I think Luke just can't be redeemed. He just gets it wrong somehow.


Some preachers whom I've heard in the past interpret the text as saying that Mary chose the "better" part (v.42, NIV) by choosing to sit at the feet of Jesus. Some interpret the text as saying Mary chose the "good" thing to do (v.42, NKJV) because she chose not to be distracted by multiple frustrations and instead concentrated on one important thing (keeping her eyes on the prize, said one preacher). This is when I wish we could (re)visit the original text (right now I'm wishing I had gone to seminary for this!). Does the text really say "better part"? And "better" than what, and better than whom? What does "better" mean? Does the text really say "Mary has chosen what is best"? What does the author mean? And what do the translators suggest with their different translations?

Some preachers say that Martha chose the "wrong" thing to do. Wrong because she chose not to sit and listen. Wrong because she focused on the material stuff -- the work of this bodily earth -- running about to oversee how things are managed in her home (not unlike what a good admin might do, I think). Not good because she was distracted from her goal, her "prize", from what she was meant to do.

[I've been told that the preacher of an excellently exegeted sermon once suggested that Martha was the figure of the deacon running "in between," ministering in the world not unlike what our deacons are called to do.]

[I'm also having a difficult time refraining from stomping my feet and proclaiming it is UNFAIR that the character of Martha is so often negatively interpreted. She is often presented as a petty, short-tempered, easily distracted busybody who lacked faith and vision. One preacher (re)described it well, though: Mary's sitting there jawboning with Jesus while Martha works like a horse to prepare a meal for them to eat later. Doesn't that sound just a bit unfair? Indeed!]

The sermon that I heard preached yesterday morning suggested that Martha had not chosen "what is best" (v.42 CEV) because she was distracted from what (we think) she should be doing. The lesson to be extracted from Martha's story is that we should not be distracted from our God-given purpose. Look at Mary, we are told, and follow her example. Unlike Martha, Mary knew what she needed to do and did just that, ignoring all others. For not being misdirected, for not multi-tasking, Mary is praised.


But what is Martha's chosen purpose, then? If Martha was to also sit at Jesus' feet and listen to him talk, who would carry the responsibility of overseeing the cooks, ensuring that food arrives on the table in time to eat? While I do not believe Martha and Mary needed to be in the kitchen tending to the water kettle or the bread in the brick oven or the vegetables over the fire (they most likely had help, being mistresses of the domicile), there is still a lot to be managed/overseen in order for a full house to be nourished.  Who would give them the meal they expect to have presented?



Right about now, I hear preachers' voices saying something about being fed with "spiritual food", which is a more better focus than the need to feed our human bodies. This is what many Vietnamese preachers have told me in their sermons. (I hear this a lot when these same preachers attempt to prioritize spiritual hunger over physical hunger, especially when preaching about world hunger and global poverty.) But, no dinner? Let us go back into the Gospels and count how many times Jesus and his disciples broke bread together. How often do they sup in each other's company, do you recall? How often do we hear the Gospels talk about Jesus feasting, eating, dining?

So if they have to eat, then whose lot is it to ensure there is food on the table? As the head of the household, as the manager, the overseer, is it Martha's responsibility to ensure that the household is fed -- guests and all, including all the dirty, burly fishermen disciples?

But the important point is: If there is feeding to be done, isn't it possible for all of them -- Jesus and disciples included -- to pitch in to prepare the meal and then sit down together to enjoy the food and conversation? I'd like to believe that Martha might have had that in mind. We shouldn't simply dismiss the fact that we need to eat (as if it's a bad thing), and we shouldn't simply dismiss the busy-ness or the joys of making a meal. What might have been more interesting was to emphasize the community building, to emphasize family, to present a different vision of what a family or community could do together.

What I  find objectionable is why Martha did not go directly to her partner, her sister, her companion, to ask for help (oh, but, what if she did and Luke didn't tell us that part of the story?!). Because that's what we would do if we were in right relation with each other. If these sisters are true partners who are strong-minded, independent women who have managed a household together, why does Martha have to go to Jesus? Why not address her sister directly? Why this indirect jibe at the sister with whom she has been living for so long? Why complain to the rabbi? Surely she didn't think that he might intercede on her behalf? Or was she indirectly complaining about him, too?

Like I've said earlier, sermons about these two sisters often ask me to ponder whether I would rather be like Mary or like Martha, but neither depiction of the strong, independent women that they must have been (had to have been back in those days) does them justice. While many scholars argue that Luke's gospel advocates women, the poor, the rejected, it sounds to me like Luke is still undermining the sisters' relationship in favor of a seemingly new vision of the kingdom of God. Unfortunately, in Luke, these women are still subjected to a world order in which they are not the mistresses of their domain but are still subservient to a man. (A friend of mine even suggested that we might consider Jesus as having saved Martha by giving her an "out", by giving her an excuse to not be so busy. But, please folks, does she really need someone else, much less a male guest in her own home, to give her an "excuse" to not do work? Why does she have to do this work in the first place? Why isn't it Mary's work? And why isn't this good work?)


It is unfair to separate these two sisters into two separate ends of a spectrum, and it is also unjust to pit one "virtue" against the other. I think it is too simplistic when preachers use Martha as a reminder: a reminder to "stop and smell the roses", a reminder to not busy ourselves with the difficult tasks entrusted to us, a reminder to not be completely overwhelmed by the work that others unjustly foist upon us simply because we are capable. No matter how well-intentioned we are in our interpretations, these reminders more often than not are misunderstood, and the listeners leave thinking (perhaps wrongly) that they should drop everything and just sit at Jesus' feet and listen. In contemporary society, that might be akin to telling everybody to go into the mountains and just sit and listen.

In my opinion, Luke got it wrong, and therefore we get it wrong, too. What I take away from this is the relational aspect of our daily living. How do we live with one another and be in right relationship with each other? If you have a problem, talk it out. Don't go about telling others about your grief, your criticisms, your complaints, hoping that your insinuations will be understood. Be considerate, calm, direct, and discuss our concerns. Do to others what we would have them do unto us. (And in this case, neither Mary nor Martha understood what needed to be done.)

If you wanna eat, and if you want to If you think folks should pitch in and make a meal as a community, then suggest that idea (lovingly, graciously, and firmly). Since we gotta eat, too, highlight the positives that come out of that meal's preparation: you get to enjoy the conversations, appreciate the food and where it comes from, and no one is excluded from the community building. Now that is a true love-feast.

Big beasts

Big beasts: "How elephants have shaped human history"

Here's one example of how art and culture and modern media can come together to save an animal from extinction (we hope). Read on...!

The Country of California

Earlier today, I went to Lowe's (on Hanley) to purchase a couple of items for our gardening venture. While browsing the aisles of plants in the nursery, I decided to look for a pink-nerved or silver-veined fittonia. Several months have gone by since I left Berkeley, and while I'm here in hot & humid St. Louis, my two little fittonias are still sitting on my old desk in my old office of my old job. Alas. (Those two were purchased at Target for almost nothing -- I think I paid like $2.99 for each of them. They were the size of my hand.)

So, I went in search of those wee little plants in the nursery of Lowe's. Couldn't find them, so I asked the little old, white lady who was unloading a bunch of orchids. She seemed really friendly, asked me how I was doing, and if I liked orchids. "Oh yes, I love them," said I, "but do you have fittonias? Silver veined or pink nerved ones?"

The little old lady looked at me and said, "What are they? Are they annuals or perennials?"

"Um, I don't know the technical name, but they're fittonias."

Then, my friends, she asked: "Are they from your country or my country?"

She then proceeded to explain to me the definition of "annual" and "perennial", and she spoke the words very slowly in case I had trouble with English.

My sister was mumbling something in the background about "not our country or your country; it's OUR country"... But my hearing was blocked by my bubbling irritation.

Somewhere during her spiel, she suggested hanging plants (they're on sale for $8.99, folks). I'll look around for something else, said I.

So I went to two gentlemen who were unloading other kinds of plants; I thought they might know more. I approached one and asked him if the store carried fittonias. He looked at his coworker, half laughed, and then turned to me and said, "Never heard of them before." Then went back to his work.

Friends, I'll admit to a bit of brusqueness, and frankly, I was not a happy customer at that point. WHY does this still happen? My goodness, I'm in St. Louis, but it's not like I'm in the country of idiots! Or maybe I am?!

So, to prove that fittonias do in fact exist, and that I did in fact have TWO fittonias in my country of CALIFORNIA, I hereby post a link to the blogpost with a photo of my dear silver-veined fittonia.

And, if you go here, you can find photographic proof that fittonias do exist, and not just in MY country. Also, if you go here, like any commoner, you can find the genus, family, and order of this little plant.

For now, I'm going to steel some silver-veined nerves and go write a note to Lowe's telling them that the fittonia does in fact exist and that Lowe's employees need to learn their plants.

Tuning in: Same HAT Time, Same HAT Channel

Those of you who have been to my apartments over the past few years prior to cable would remember the wonderful little tinfoil rabbit ears that I used for my little t.v. antennae. They served me well, in most cases, because I didn't even have basic cable, and with those little gadgets, I've had a lot of luck tuning in to many great shows. Whenever there was a threat of rain or wind which could weaken the signal, I would stand next to the aluminum rabbit ears and the screen would clear up. If things were pretty bad, I could touch it with my finger, or reshape/recast the tinfoil around the cheap-o t.v. antenna and everything would be fine.

It happened quite often (in Arlington, in Wilmington, and for a short while in Berkeley) that I would have to stand next to the t.v. to watch something clearly on the screen, but it was worth it just to get the strong signals (it's my compulsive need to see the end of all shows, which is why I had shows that end in "To Be Continued"...Hmmph).

Several days ago, I would have gladly used my body as an extension of some sort of antenna just to finish hearing the game between Nederland and Uruguay (in the semifinals of the 2010 World Cup). While driving back to STL, I listened to the game on ESPN radio. As we ventured further and further from the city limits, the signal became weaker and weaker which, naturally, compelled me to continue turning the dial back and forth to find the right signal strength. No matter what I did, though, the station was gone. (Perhaps that was a good thing -- otherwise I would have heard the news and would have been an unhappy traveler the rest of the way.) It was silly thinking that I could turn the dial this way and that in order to get a clearer sound of the game. If I could have, I would have stuck my head out the window holding tinfoil rabbit ears as we traveled along I-80/94. But, the channel was lost.

In Chard de Niord's interview with the poet Ruth Stone (in the July/August 2010 issue of The American Poetry Review), Stone said the following about her writing process and her muse:

Even as a child, I would hear a poem coming toward me from way off in the universe. I wouldn't hear it. I would feel it, and it would come right toward me. If I didn't catch it, if I didn't run in thehouse and write it down, it would go right through me and back into the universe. So I'd never see it again. I'd never hear it again. I've lost about ninety-nine percent of my poems this way. Sometimes I would catch the last line and write it through the bottom up. I have to say. I never thought they were mine. They weren't mine. They belonged somewhere else.

That never happens to me. Or, rather, if this sense of universe-streaming (like webstreaming?) had happened sometime in my past, it was such a long-ago time that I no longer remember ever being a conduit of such burning poetry, the kind that sinks into your soul and your consciousness and you can recite lines from heart-memory as if they were ingrained in my veins. No, I don't think this has ever happened.

Stone admits, though, that there are times when she really has to revise and revise before she gets something just right, and it's not just about tuning in to the right channel of the universe so that the poems just pour right out of her (p. 50). In the interview, the 95-year-old poet says she "couldn't get the last line for years" for the poem "Things I Say to Myself While Hanging Laundry."

It took her several years to get the last line, however, it was only one elusive line that held the entire poem in limbo, waiting. I, on the other hand, have been waiting my entire life for just one line. One poem. One book.

Mind you, I've been working hard to fashion me some fancy rabbit ears just so I could tune in: All the degrees, all the workshops, all the peer-editing, all the writing groups. Then the writings and editing on the side, perusing and analyzing collections, reading and contemplating. Old poets, contemporary poets, classics and experimental. Fiction and nonfiction. Journals, magazines, reviews. The jazz shows and the art galleries, the readings and the lectures -- all for inspiration, like stretching myself into different shapes, twisting my mental torso into different forms, with my finger slightly outstretched to touch that magic "tinfoil" that will help me channel the right word, the right line, the perfect image.

Alas, alas, although I feel like I've fashioned all the rabbit ears that I could with all the tinfoil that exists out there to channel "a poem coming toward me from way off in the universe", my muse isn't easily found (not like the old Bat-Man t.v. shows which were shown same bat-time, same bat-channel). So I will continue tuning and fine-tuning, and hopefully one day I'll finally get to universe-stream what was meant for me all along.

I wish I could say that we eventually picked up the soccer (ahem, football) game again on the radio that day, but we never did. We drove far beyond the limits, and truth be told, the conversation in the car was much more interesting than listening to the game on the radio. I learned some fascinating history about my dear old dad, and that, I think was much more valuable. A secret (writerly?) part of me was mentally recording our car conversations for future material, I think.

[Also see a fun article about rabbit-ear TV antenna and Photo source]

NCC Eco-Justice Programs Writes Letter re: Land and Wilderness

Dear President Obama, Secretary Salazar, Secretary Vilsack, and Senators,

As people of faith, we understand Creation as the opportunity to be surrounded by the work and being of God. The network of wild lands throughout the United States provides congregations and communities the opportunity to experience God, and to dwell in the beauty of all that God called “good.” As people of faith, we seek to live out our call as stewards of Creation through efforts to protect and maintain God’s great Creation. Through effective and collaborative work we can and must protect these places of intimate connection with God for all generations, and protect these vital pieces of God’s Creation.

Lands, wilderness, and open spaces have played a vital role in the spiritual journeys of Biblical peoples from Moses to Jesus Christ. Lands are an essential part of God's Creation. Through them, God nourishes life; provides the foundation of terrestrial ecosystems and human communities; supplies blessings of sustenance like soil, water, timber, and minerals; and offers natural space for prayer and spiritual renewal. Stewardship of the lands and wild places God has entrusted to our care is a critical part of our call to protect Creation. In a world broken by strife, public lands offer beautiful places to heal and invigorate the soul, which can be enjoyed by people for generations to come.

The public lands in the US embody the ideals of cooperation, community, equitable sharing of God’s bounty for the common good, and preserving the whole of Creation entrusted to our care. Public lands, if cared for appropriately, help us answer God's call to equality among people by providing shared benefits that nurture our communities. But many of these lands - and the life that depends on them - are endangered by human negligence and abuse. As these threats to God's gifts become more pronounced, our need to become educated and involved becomes more immediate.

As part of our call to be stewards of Creation, we have a duty to recognize the importance of the lands that the Lord has provided and minimize our impact, manage it so that it serves the good of all, and protect it for future generations and for all life. It is in this spirit that we ask you to work for protection and upkeep of the Lord’s lands and wild places. By protecting these places, we will ensure homes for many of God’s creatures as well as the ability to immerse oneself in the glory and goodness of God’s Creation.

Sincerely,
HAT

*If you want to sign this letter, too, click here.

Road to Saint Louis

We drove back to STL from GR today (from visiting Ba Me this past weekend on occasion of July 4th), and from I-55 southbound, I snapped some of the following out-the-window shots a Canon point-and-shoot. The sky was beautiful -- right before we dashed headlights-first into two huge, ginormous rainstorms. [There are two shots that I really love and hope you can spot them in the slideshow.]


I didn't think much of these when I was sitting in the car (in the passenger's seat, not driving, thank you) looking out the window. But as I continue to look at these pictures, I see something special about them, and they speak to me about my continued reflection over my recent decision to head out to Saint Louis: I love the ones with gray and blue clouds covering the sun, the ones with small rays of light breaking through, the blurry landscapes mis-shapened and unidentifiable by the blinding rain, the small and picturesque farm houses that jut up from lush green corn fields, and the one shot of the tiny, lonely, empty winding road beneath rain-heavy clouds... Imagine the words that you would hear if these photographs could speak!!

Happy 4th of July, America!

About two years ago, in anticipation of Independence Day, I asked a friend -- at that time, an acquaintance -- whether there were any special plans for his holiday weekend. He responded, with a very charming smile, "It's not my independence, so why should I celebrate it?"

And that, my friends, is what many Americans are asking today. They are raising similar questions because at this time, there are many challenges to being labeled/identified/categorized as an American -- in my case, as a "Viet Kieu My". These days, there may be more of a *risk* in claiming our hard(ly)-earned independence -- especially since we are often taken to task for how poorly we've managed that sense of independence (have you seen the oil spill disaster in the Gulf? have you seen how we handled relief efforts after the hurricane hit Katrina in LA?)

Now, as some of you may know, I love holidays and whatever excuse I have to rest and rejuvenate is most welcomed. At about that time, I was working like a fiend, and often found myself flipping through calendars to find upcoming holidays. Besides, the summer months often seem like too-long stretches of work-time so the July 4th celebrations come always at the right moment.

I also love activities/events in which large communities of different kinds/types come together to celebrate with food, fun, laughter, and general merrymaking. Somehow, it just feels like everything is right in the world -- for a brief, brief moment -- when we all come together with pride and thanksgiving (or at least some of us. Add to that celebratory spirit some fireworks under a balmy Berkeley night and that's just perfect. Isn't communal celebrations the point of July 4th? To acknowledge that we are a people of one nation?

For me, as a passport-carrying, naturalized citizen of the United States of America, July 4th is a specially marked time set apart to remind us that this country was forged by courageous people in search of freedom in the spirit of liberty and in pursuit of their uniquely defined (sometimes selfishly guarded at the astronomical cost) sense of happiness. (Or should I say that sometimes, we take the easy way out by buying into the prescribed "American Dream" and neglect to forge our own sense of identity and independence...?)

Since the new laws about immigration and since the Arizona law were passed, I am reminded that there are still people here in the U.S. who feel that I and others like me (who are recent immigrants -- recent compared to the Chinese or the Japanese or the Italians or the Dutch, or, the Brits or the Irish,etc.), we don't really belong here in "their" country. Funny how 400 years squatting in someone else's backyard makes you the "owner" and more recent arrivals are the "trespassers" who need your permission to stay.

Anyway, I am thankful for this holiday b/c it is one small opportunity to remind everyone that we are all visitors and immigrants here on this soil. Whether we arrived in 1607 or 1987 or 2009, we are all travelers who went forth from where we had been, to search for opportunity in territory unfamiliar to us. So I might not be a Brit who left England to settle the new world in the 1600s, but there is still reason for me to celebrate the 4th -- and it's not just because I love holidays. The early immigrants settled first and carved the path through the histories of humanity so that today, I can sit here freely blogging about America's birthday. And my friend can freely visit her parents in London and travel to a family wedding in Canada, and return regularly to her hometown in India. And my other friend can visit his Spanish wife's family in Spain with their new beautiful baby. And my other, other friend can study here in the U.S. on a Malaysian student visa (which thankfully also turned into a lucrative job after he graduated). And so on, and so on...

For today, let us remember and give thanks for this our Nation -- for all the people of different races, ethinicity, and cultures wrapped up in its huge ego and bravada, boiling over from its temperaments and global warming carcinogens, flooding from its icecaps melting, buried under our nation's mounds and mountains of refuse and debris, barely recognizable from its gulf-coast drilling seepage.

Happy birthday, dear nation, and may we survive and thrive through another year!