music, books, essay, events,

music

I’ve been listening to a lot of Juana Molina again, which means that while I’m driving, I am also singing in Spanish and making funny sounds with my voice.  I recently purchased her album “Un Dia” one morning and now it’s playing in my car and “El Vestido” is the song that I find myself listening to over and over.

books

I’m rereading Thich Nhat Hanh’s “The Art of Power.”  I realize that if you read this book at work, your boss may get a little worried, which is a bit beside the point but amusing nonetheless. The book applies Buddhism to the concept of power.  I find the book to be very grounding. I practice meditation and the book inspires me to practice daily. I also think that soon I will informally lead some meditation sessions with a couple of friends. Before I do so, I will probably ask advice from people who teach meditation.

I’m also rereading “Play It As It Lays” because I’m writing an essay on Maria Wyeth. The essay is taking longer than I expected and maybe I’m a little scared to finish it. So now instead of writing the essay, I’m rereading the novel. Today at my writing session, I mostly read. Then I got a headache. My friend gave me tylenol and I took three. Then I felt lightheaded and thought I could  fall asleep at the table. In fact, my white macbook seemed like a nice pillow and while she talked, I put my head down on the keyboard and looked at her. I thought a mocha would help but it didn’t. I pretended like it did help and continued to read. I kept trying to concentrate on the language in “Play It As It Lays” but just felt lightheaded. I shut my book, I told my friend I had to go home. She invited me to go shopping with her for pillows. She needed pillows because one of her cats peed on them.  I showed her Miranda July’s pillows and suggested she maybe make pillows, which she did! She went home and made pillows and I went home and fell into a deep sleep.

I have no idea why my body was freaking out but I decided to make some tea from recipes in “Women’s Power to Heal.” I drank some triphala tea and then made some envelopes. Right now I just finished turmeric tea. I basically boil a cup of water in a pan and once it’s boiling I add 1/2 a teaspoon (which is a five finger pinch) of either triphala or turmeric. Then I cover the pot, allow the water and the herb to simmer for five minutes. Then I used a strainer as I pour the tea in the cup. I often add honey because the herbs tend to have powerful taste which I have yet to find pleasant. They’re growing on me though.

essay

I just read this and like it a lot. You should read it too: http://adrienneskyeroberts.blogspot.com/2009/02/longed-for-bed-which-i-enter-gratefully.html

la book events

mcsweeney’s just come out with their new issue, a newspaper! Read what Dave Eggers had to say about print journalism this summer: http://www.salon.com/books/int/2009/07/16/dave_eggers/index.html If you’re in Los Angeles, you can reserve a copy and pick it up on December 12th at 826LA’s Travel Mart. http://www.eventbrite.com/event/511095701,

team colin

This afternoon I attended UCLA Department of Theater’s “MFA 1st-Year Acting and Directing Project 1″ to see my friend Colin act. I went with his wife Cecilia who is also my good friend. Before the show, Cecilia and I made t-shirts expressing that we support him.

detail

The three of us are friends and fans of one another. Colin and Cecilia plan to make “Team Zoe” shirts and Colin and I plan to make “Team Cecilia” shirts. I imagine they will wear the shirt when I stand on a stage and read my writing. And I imagine Colin and I will wear our “Team Cecilia” shirts when she performs her one-woman show. We are in our midtwenties and we are pursuing our dreams, whatever that means, and we live in Los Angeles.

We thought of the Team tshirts while we were grabbing a cup of coffee on Hollywood Boulevard. We were waiting for a show to start at the Knitting Factory. Our friend who also had once lived in Santa Cruz but now lived in the desert was performing with his band. We were waiting and we were smack in the center of Hollywood which is much too bright and dirty for my taste. There are stars on the sidewalk and the Chinese Mann theater is too close for comfort and we had all lived in a small city, where the forest and beach were close and that place was Santa Cruz and Santa Cruz seemed far away.

The first time I met Colin, the three of us stood on Front Street in Downtown Santa Cruz. I happened to be standing underneath a cherry blossom tree that was in full bloom. I looked up and said, I Iove these blossoms. So he shook the tiny trunk and blossoms fell all around me. I looked down at the falling blossoms and some got stuck in my hair and I smiled and Cecilia smiled, too and he kept shaking the tree.

Now we all live in Los Angeles and like I said we are pursuing our dreams, whatever that may mean. Of course it’s a hard time for dreamers, maybe it always has been, and in Los Angeles, maybe dreamers have a harder time. So it’s good to live in this city and have friends who dream and act on their dreams. It’s good to have friends who sit in the center of dirty, bright Hollywood and agree to make tshirts that say “Team Zoe” or “Team Colin” or “Team Cecilia,” who agree to wear these shirts during moments when support is much needed. I like these shirts because what they are saying is, I like your dreams. I like you. I believe in you.

happy birthday Laura

something i will make for you

Inspiration

Erica Gillingham (http://highwaysandanchors.blogspot.com/) inspired me to do a creative project titled “something I will make you.” Earlier this year, she wrote a facebook note. She said she would make something for the first five people who responded. I was one of the fortunate five. This summer I received a chapbook that I like a lot.

Digression: Ryan

When I first received the package, I did not open it. Then I received another package from Ryan and did not open it. Ryan called, asking if I had received his package, and I told him that I was not opening packages because I felt like I did not deserve them. What can I say. It was a strange summer. He told me to open them. Ryan’s a good friend, one of my best friends. Recently Ryan sent me another package and I opened it right away. These were the contents:

Score! I’m a so excited to read these. Also, Ryan sent me these because he knows I really really want to read them, which is so thoughtful. I’m lucky I know Ryan and if you know him, then you’re lucky too. Of course, if you know him, then you already know that.

something i will make you: part 1

So I wrote a facebook note quite similar to Erica’s, inspired by her, and Christina Galante, 826LA Retail and Store Manager, was the first person to respond. If you do not know about the 826LA Time Travel Store, then you should go here: http://826la.org/store/. I met Christina because I am an 826LA volunteer. I remember her being interested in finding an affordable place to practice yoga on the East side, so I figured I’d make her something that had to do yoga. I ended up making her a little note card.

envelopes and concentration

There are some of the envelopes that will be on sale tomorrow at a hair salon in Eagle Rock.

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The envelopes below have imperfections so I’m not sure if I will actually sell them. I might sell them for a cheaper price and call them bargain envelopes. These envelopes are totally usable but they are a little crooked or folded funny. They are not without charm and they do tell a story.

The story has to do with how my mind works, how I am easily distracted. While making envelopes, I start remembering or planning or fantasizing and then I find myself folding the paper in a crooked way.

“Crap! How did that happen?

I know how it happens and I do my best to focus better.

Part of why I enjoy making envelopes (and writing and practicing yoga) is that all the activities help me concentrate. And there’s a theory that I recently heard, which is that concentration leads to clarity and clarity leads to insight. Now, I’m not sure if that’s true. But I like when I am able to concentrate. I feel like Yes, I’m here, and I have discovered that being fully present is a powerful experience, even if it lasts for two seconds…

7.

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10.

It’s Thanksgiving! It’s time for me to stop making envelopes and start making some food!

on Interruption (or on not wearing sunglasses)

My body is tired. In the last three days, I’ve gone to yoga classes that are vigorous. Two of which were Vinyasa flow classes. The pace is fast and I build up a sweat. I hold poses that are uncomfortable and do my best to relax into the discomfort, to keep my face and jaw soft, to breathe into the muscle that is quivering, that is waking up. The other yoga class, the one I went to this morning, was vigorous in a different way. It was a Kundalini meditation class. I felt my mind waking up, tapping into some unconscious energy. I saw a flood of images without a story line and the energy rose and moved throughout my body. I let the energy rise, I let it release. I let it go and felt drained.

After class I thought what I needed was to sit for a while and let my mind and body rest. I decided to drive to Sunset Junction. I would treat myself to a really good cup of coffee, sit on the outside patio, and taste, I mean really taste each sip.

I sat on a bright blue bench and held the white ceramic cup in my hands. I looked into my cup of coffee before I took a sip. Then I concentrated on really tasting it. I got all Zen with my coffee and started feeling better, less drained. I looked out the archway, at a green vine, I looked out at Sunset Boulevard, at the traffic. I watched people sitting at the cafe, talking. I watched people standing in line and then leave. I made eye contact with someone, he smiled, I smiled back. I took another sip.

I started thinking about an essay that I am writing. I started, in my mind, rearranging scenes. I’m not exactly sure how I looked while sitting on the bench, coffee cup in hand, rearranging paragraphs in my mind. Maybe I look tired, drained, and a little spaced out.

When I finished my cup of coffee, I opened up my notebook, began rewriting a scene, and the process of writing felt good, I felt a rhythm, a rhythm the previous draft had lacked. I was beginning to see that the rhythm was crucial, I was beginning to–

Hi, he said.

I looked up. It was the guy I had made eye contact with some moments before. He sat on the bench. He did not look like he came to this cafe often. He looked like he was on his way to shoot hoops at the local recreation center. Of course I don’t look like I come to this cafe often and I don’t. I look like I got up from bed and walked out the door because that is, more or less, what I did.

I wanted to come up to you because I saw you sitting all alone, he said. I felt worried about you. I don’t know why. I just felt worried about you.

I looked at him and said nothing.

He asked, Is that weird just coming up to you like this?

Um.

Do people in LA do that here? Do they come up to people and talk to them? I’m from Idaho.

So you’re from Idaho? So what are you doing here? I asked the question in a neutral tone.

I go to a Bible College.

Then I relaxed. I understood what was happening. He wanted to introduce me to my friend Jesus. If I knew about my friend Jesus, I would never be alone.

I asked the exact name and location of the Bible College. He happens to attend Calvary Chapel Bible College in Temecula. He told me LA seemed like a hard place. I nodded. He seemed to be waiting from me to talk about my experience with Los Angeles.

Don’t worry about me sitting here alone, I said. I’m a bit of loner. That’s just my way.

He said, Oh, so you’re one of those.

I’m not one of those and being a loner is probably not my way. Being a loner is a bit of a habit that I’ve tried to kick, am kicking now.

Yeah, I said. You know. I write. I pointed to my notebook, still opened in my lap. I said, I just came from yoga, too. So that kind of puts me into a certain frame of mind.

He started asking me about yoga and I started wanting the conversation to end. So I told him a little about yoga. He wanted to know if everyone in Los Angeles was like me. I smiled. I thought that was funny. I told him that if he wanted to find out the answer to his question, he should go up to everyone in the cafe, and he said he was much too shy for that.

Well, I said, I’m going back to writing now. It was nice to meet you. What is your name. This is my name. I shook his hand and he walked away.

I tried to get back to writing the scene but couldn’t. The moment was interrupted thanks to Chris from Idaho who came out West to study Jesus. Soon I was at a table, on the phone, telling my friend that a man from Idaho was worried about me, was trying to save me. I looked out the window and saw him standing with the people he came with. I looked away, continued talking on the phone about what had happened.

When I got off the phone, I looked out the window again. He was leaving. The people he was with were walking ahead of him, in the middle of the sidewalk. He walked behind them, along the curb. I did not understand that exactly. Why not walk on the sidewalk, why not walk beside the people you are with.

It occurred to me that maybe I was wrong about what had just happened. Maybe he was not trying to introduce me to Jesus, maybe he was trying to introduce himself because he is from Idaho, he is studying the Bible in Temecula, and has somehow found himself in Silver Lake the day before Thanksgiving. Then again maybe “I’m from Idaho” was a made up story, maybe he was an actor preparing for a part. I do not know and I do not care. I do not care because I view him in the same way. I view him as an interruption.

embracing the robot within, the envelope making bot

Ok. These pictures have bad lighting but I wanted to post them anyway.

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more music

I listen to music while I make envelopes. This is what I’m listening to now.

 

mind body envelopes

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envelopes for sale

Today my sister’s hair stylist agreed to sell my envelopes in his salon in Eagle Rock. Soon my envelopes will be on sale! I’m pretty stoked.

Also,  I’m completing my first order of envelopes. A hairdresser in Pasadena ordered fifty and she’s giving them to her friends and family for Christmas presents. I’m excited to complete my first official order!

Also, I guess people who do hair really like my envelopes?

Here are some of the envelopes I’m making for her:

If I were to title this set of envelopes, I might title them “We could be here, we are elsewhere”

No. 1

No. 2

No. 3

No. 4

No. 5

No. 6

No. 7

quote

Why does one write, if not to put one’s pieces together? From the moment we enter school or church, education chops us into pieces; it teaches us to divorce soul from body and mind from heart. The fisherman of the Colombian coast must be learned doctors of ethics and morality, for the invented the word sentipensante, feeling-thinking, to define language that speaks the truth.

Eduardo Galeanos’ The Book of Embraces

music

The Middle East: Blood

 

music and words and mudras

this song was in my dream last night

i’m thinking about this song today

What I read and liked

About women and writers and lists: http://therumpus.net/2009/11/the-blurb-12-on-disturbance/

Volunteer! http://www.huffingtonpost.com/joel-arquillos/use-your-volunteer-time-w_b_322933.html

I’m all hippified and shit

I just finished practicing Abhaya Mudra, an eleven minute meditation.

because i never said i was a poet (or while i was reading your poems)

i used to think i was invisible here

surrounded by the famous

and if not famous

then very beautiful

which is why i came

 

i have come today

rotting teeth

crooked glasses

and unwashed hair

wearing an over sized

lime sweater

that i found in a garbage bag

somewhere

 

the short man who serves coffee

now has a beard

and doesn’t recognize me

at first

he is surprised

he says

i haven’t seen you in a long time

i say, i’ve been

 

i guess somewhere else

i smile

then order a drink

 

i set sail and sunk

shipwrecked

homesick

spent nights

dreaming of stones

for my pockets

water for my lungs

 

which is one way to say

life happened

and  was a bitch

 

now here i am

ordering

overpriced coffee

on sunset boulevard

reading your poems

glad life was

such a bitch

if only because

 

no, i am not invisible

i’m an ugly little lady

walking with a broken leg

(in her broken brain)

beaten down

beautific

notes: november 3 2009

Envelopes

Completing my first order

My hairdresser who is also just a really amazing woman ordered 50 envelopes. She wants to give them to her friends for Christmas presents. My deadline is the end of November. And I want to make more than 50 and try to sell them. I have a hair salon in mind. It’s just a matter of being very charming, which I can do depending on the day and the amount of coffee I’ve had…

Bargain Books

In terms of not selling them, I’m still working on “Bargain Books,” my creative art project. Read my art statement here: http://zoeruiz.wordpress.com/2009/04/09/artist-statement/ This last week, I sent out more envelopes to friends and special people in my life. In the next week, I will continue to send out more to family and friends throughout the US. I have a list of people and a dwindling amount of envelopes. So the project is coming to a close and so is this year.

Music

It seems like I will never stop listening to this song:

Friends

Ryan sent me more writing and I’m still reading Shimmy’s poetry. Which makes me happy.

Reading

I’m still carrying Amy Fusselman’s 8 with me everywhere I go. I carry the small hardcover edition in my Frida Kahlo bag. I’m not necessarily reading it, I finished but I keep it with me, just in case. Plus it inspires me to continue writing these short pieces about what happens during yoga.

Writing

Yeah, I’m writing short pieces about yoga, love, and my body. They’re in their first draft. Also, I started writing a personal essay about Maria Wyeth. I never thought I’d actually write a personal essay about her that I’d finish or that would say what I wanted to say and it seems like the first draft is doing just that. So I’m hopeful about the things I’m writing. It feels good.

Coffee

I drink several cups of coffee a day whether I’m writing or not. I make my own or hop around cafes. I gave a tarot card reading at a cafe, late at night, on the outside table. Then I promised a cafe employee that I would read his because he seemed interested. I like idea of giving tarot card readings to a bunch of people I don’t know. What a unique way to meet people in Los Angeles. It’s a little romantic and not necessarily reality based.

Writing

I searched myself: http://oasys.lib.oxy.edu/search/X?SEARCH=zoe%20ruiz&SORT=D

Writers:

I saw Irene Khan speak at LAPL with my friend Ana. Irene Khan spoke about poverty as a human rights issue and gave a clear analysis of the current conditions and presented various solutions to the grave problems that exist both nationally and globally. Check out her book: The Unheard Truth. Let me know if you want to book club it.

The rest of the day

Working, writing, envelope making, coffee drinking, job searching

but I wanted to say more

I wanted to say more about what Ryan wrote because, although I quoted the line before work, I didn’t really write how that line affected me.

He writes that Junot Diaz’s book “reinforces my love for literature and the power it can have to shed light on the pain people cause in each other’s lives and makes me want to turn my life into something beautiful that other people can read, underline, and quote”

Literature has been such a powerful part of my life precisely because it sheds light on what I keep hidden, on what you keep hidden, on what we are not going to talk about because we do not want to or cannot. I don’t read books to check out from my daily life, I read books to check in. Same goes for writing.

There’s this powerful thing about writing your story. It has to do with claiming it. Saying, I was here. This happened. I am a witness and a reliable one. Writing your story can be a dialogue between who you once were and who you are now. Publishing your story is sharing your story,  lighting up the dark parts of your life for others who may or may not want to see it. Publishing is an aggressive act. You are saying (or shouting or screaming), Hey I’m here. Listen to me.  Shedding light on what you could have kept dark has the potential to provide much comfort to people who have been where you have been or where you are now. And I think that is beautiful and powerful. So I think what is beautiful and powerful has less to do with a story being well crafted or being “literature.” I  think what is beautiful and powerful has more to do with the act of writing, reading, and publishing. And what I’m also trying to say, I realize now, is that just the desire to want to write, publish, and read for this reason, I mean wanting to shed light on painful experiences to make them beautiful is powerful. And I think it really answers, for me anyway, Why I Write. Why I Publish, which are questions I find myself asking again and again throughout my relationship with writing.

It also reminded me of this line in Amy Fusselman’s 8, “I am taking what I want from the episode I lived through and making a story, and I love the story.”

because i have some time before work

Writing is a lonely act. I consider myself lucky. Although small, I have a community of friends who are artists and we encourage each other to dream, dream big. Life wears me down but my relationships with them causes me to think, Yes, maybe all my dreams are possible, and if mine are possible then, yours are too.(http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com/reports/63/ruiz_zoe2.php) Life wears me down, these friends encourage me to live. And I’m talking about that kind of living that Eduardo Galeano writes about in The Book of Embraces. The first prose poem titled The World.

It starts like this:”A man from the town of Negua, on the coast of Colombia, could climb into the sky. On his return, he described his trip. He told how he had contemplated life from on high. He said we are a sea of tiny flames.” It ends like this: “Some foolish flames neither burn nor shed light, but others blaze with life so fiercely that you can’t look at them without blinking and if you approach, you shine in fire.”  Life does wear people down and some days, my god, I feel like I’m just becoming dimmer and dimmer. I feel like I’m vanishing, that I should efface myself, and my friends are people who blaze blaze blaze and I like shining in their fire. Like being relit.

One of my closest friends is Ryan and he sends me his writing from time to time. He sent me something he wrote about The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. One of the lines I love:  “It also reinforces my love for literature and the power it can have to shed light on the pain people cause in each other’s lives and makes me want to turn my life into something beautiful that other people can read and underline and quote.”

Another friend, who I haven’t seen in years, sent me a draft of his book of poems in the mail. Even before I started reading the book he is about to self-publish, I felt inspired. Like yes–he can do it, so can I! Then I started reading the poems and I felt even more inspired to write, to dream, and to gather a group of people into a room, read his poem The Wishing Jar out loud, and yell, Let’s all make Wishing Jars!!Now! Start now now now.

the real joy

from Lynda Barry’s “What It Is”

monday creative exercise, with words and paint

I have the day off. I can’t find my car keys and my phone just broke. So I took out my drawing pad. I found a very short story I once wrote. Then I wrote some sentences that attempt to answer the question Why I Write and Why I Publish. After I wrote the sentences I took out paint from a small box in my closet because why not? I spread the paint over the paper with my fingers. I never have any idea what to do with paint but that’s part of the terror and pleasure. Discovering that it’s OK to fuck it up and redefine what it means to fuck it up. There’s risk taking and letting go and adventure in the moments when I’m slap my palm on paper. Who can say why. Now my hands are stained with paint and I’m a little tired. I’m going to call my phone company about setting up an extra phone I have. My sister found my keys in her car. Then I’m going to read a book of poems written by Shimmy Boyle and some writing by Ryan Pittington. And do my laundry

Short Story I Found

to my friend, on his birthday weekend