GREETINGS

I'm going to Dunun Village tomorrow morning and will be outside the net the next four or five days.
Have a wonderful weekend!

EXPERT ADVICE

I grew up in Europe where we have trains like the ones in Japan, so I am an expert with trains. Brie is not bad at finding her way, but I have been in Japan before and I do know a little more about it.

So, anyway we had gone to Hakone and were caught in a thunderstorm walking to the hostel with our luggage - and no umbrellas. We were soaked and the hostel had mildew in the bathroom. So we moved to the Ra kuun hotel, which was not much better but a lot more expensive. When next morning was grey and foggy we decided to seek other pastures. Kamakura was the place we all had liked. Let’s go there!

We had come by train on the Tokaido line from Yokohama and an hour in a bus. Now we backtracked, but we didn’t have to go all the way back to Yokohama because half way back, in Ofuna, we could change from the Tokaido line to the line for Kamakura.
What we wanted was an express to Ofuna. The panel showing the next trains announced a Tokaido line Express, and there was only three minutes to get to the platform and the train. I urged Tony and Brie to hurry up and we got in just before the train left.

We went through a tunnel, and another tunnel and another.
Did we go through so many tunnels?
I didn’t think so.
I asked Tony and Brie and they said, oh, yes!
Then we stopped at a station that I hadn’t seen before. I didn’t want to believe it, and it was too late now to get out, but we are going the wrong way – away from Ofuna! The mountains are on the right, the ocean on the left, there’s no doubt. Oh, the downfall of expertise!
My fellow travelers took it quite nicely; they didn’t rage against me or stop talking to me, but I had to relinquish all leadership in railway stations hereafter.
In order to stop their snide remarks about my mental abilities, I promised to take them out to lunch in our favorite restaurant as soon as we came to Kamakura. In return I made them swear that they would never, ever mention this again, neither to me nor to anybody else.
So I know that you haven’t heard the story before!

FRUITS OF FALL

Click to enlarge!

Congress of Birds

Westcliff, Santa Cruz

Colors in the Backyard

Roses faded, Broccoli gone.

For Halloween maybe ?

Napoleon in the shade

My Friends

The empty Chair (I just left…)

I LOVE THE TRAINS

A local line in Kamakura

Looking out front on the Toyoko line

Shinkansen - the bullet train

BHAGAVAN DAS

In ‘Be Here Now’ Richard Alpert, aka. Baba Ram Das, told about the young blond sadhu, Bhagavan Das, from America who introduced him to his guru, Neem Karoli Baba.
The first time I went trekking in the Himalayas I met Bhagavan Das. With my fellow travellers I had passed the night in a small settlement; then, in the late morning, a tall figure was spied coming down from the mountains.
“Bhagavan Das”, said my one companion.
One did not often meet fellow Westerners in 1970 on the trek to Mount Everest; it was an occasion, and we sat down to drink tea and exchange news.
Bhagavan Das was fair and broad-shouldered with a crown of dreads wound on his head. I had never seen dreads before on a Westerner; I was captivated. He was such an ideal of what the sixties revolution was about, of freely following the re-spiritualized consciousness.
So he said: “Come and see me.” And he explained where he lived and I recognized Kopan where I had been called to watch the sunset once at the end of an acid-trip.
When I came back from the trek and went to see him, he was not there and before I had a chance to meet him again he was gone.

Ten to twelve years later I met Bhagavan Das in California. An amazing change had occurred. He now had children he had to take care of and he had become a car dealer, a totally straight-looking well-groomed American businessman. We only just saw each other shortly and acknowledged our connection, then again he was gone.

Now, another twenty-five years have passed.
I recently got a new housemate, Leela, and it turns out she is Bhagavan Das’ faithful associate. He has returned to his beginnings and drawn them to a conclusion and there is no trace left of the car dealer! He has for many years now been a travelling sadhu spreading good vibes with his devotional songs. Leela had arranged for a Kirtan in Santa Cruz Saturday night and Bhagavan Das came Friday and stayed in our house for three days. This time we had time to really connect. I played djembe as part of the musical support at the Kirtan and Sunday night we watched Lama Yeshe teach on DVD.

It is amazing how karmic connections manifest and how you can have a deep relation to a person you only meet a few times in a lifetime.

JAPANESE ARCHITECTURE

Tokyo

Yokohama

LOST IN TRANSLATION

We had spent the day in Kamakura, a small town that was the capital of Japan from 1185 to 1333 and contained many temples and a huge Buddha statue.
Brie wanted to visit a shrine that was right next to the first stop on our train ride home. She said: “If you guys are too tired you can go on home and I’ll go to the temple alone.” I was tired but not quite sure what I wanted to do.
When our train arrived at Kamakura station there was a first class car – a so called green car - right in front of us and I said: “That’s a green car,” and ran to the car in front, but Brie and Tony didn’t follow me. I wanted to find them before the first stop and when I went into the green car they were there, sitting all alone in the luxurious compartment.

“You can’t stay her,” I said, but Brie said: “Oh, it’s just one stop.” So I sat down with them, but just before our stop a railway lady came in and explained, mostly in Japanese, that we had to pay extra. The train had now stopped and Brie said: “But we get off here!” The lady began to explain again that we had to pay extra, but when Brie insisted: “We get off here!” she relented and said: “You go other car.” We jumped up and ran to the next car and straight to the door out, Brie first, then I, and Tony last. Just as Brie ran out the door it started closing and I stopped, afraid of being caught in it. We were separated. Brie put up a cheerful face and waved goodbye as the train started up and all the Japanese, who are normally so polite, laughed at us.
Tony wanted to go back, but I was too tired to follow and at the next station he left and I continued home.

I had been home nearly two hours when Tony arrived - alone.
“Is Brie not here?” he asked. He had not been able to go back because he didn’t know what train to take. The station was big and trains went off right and left. He waited to see if Brie would come and when she didn’t, he gave up and continued homewards. At the huge Yokohama station he got lost when changing trains, and when he finally found his way he took the express train that didn’t stop at our station.
Thanks to an herbal relaxation we began to see the comical aspect of our adventure, but when Brie arrived half an hour later she was quite mad. She had waited in vain for us to come back, and it didn’t help that we were giggly when recalling the Japanese all laughing at us, but when she understood that Tony had done his best to join her, but was lost, and with a helping of saké, she joined our mood and we all had a good laugh.

JAPANESE FOOD

From the supermarket

Breakfast

Dinner

Vegetarian

Even the garbage looks tasty !

VACATION

I'm going to Japan soon and will take the month off from blogging.
Please enjoy the summer - or the winter if you live down under!

THE FOG

is always ready during the summer to come and chill Santa Cruz:

QUOTE

When I ponder the changes I’d make

If I could live my life anew;

The answer is always the same:

There would be quite a few.


But the changes I would make

Probably would not pay;

They would just allow me to

Screw up in a different way…

By Diogenes Bob

KALU RIMPOCHE & BHAGAVAN DAS

FLOWERS BY BIRON

The photographer Biron is a friend met on the net. To see more of his flowers click here.

LAST DAY OF JUNE'S VISIT

June is my friend from Japan. Next month I'm going to visit him in Japan!!

June and the drums

June with Pooh

Low tide

colorful rocks at the beach in Santa Cruz

Toumani Diabaté, master kora player from Guinea, West Africa, playing at Montalvo Arts Center in Saratoga, CA.

QUATORZE JUILLET

The taking of the Bastille on July 14th, 1789.
Is it time for a new revolution?

NAPOLEON AT EASE

I put my foot in it

ZENGO

The first spring I was living at Kopan, Lama Zopa Rimpoche gave his first meditation course. His teaching style was very formal, slow, and with many repetitions. It was not easy to keep my attention alive, but even so, the discipline and the energy of many people meditating together was a good experience.
Right after the course the Lamas left for Dharamsala, but Zina, who was always eager to attract people to the center, had met a Japanese monk, Zengo, and invited him to give a course at Kopan. Zengo was young and smooth and very self-confident and came with a group of disciples. Many of the Lamas followers also took his course, but his style was very different from Lama Zopa’s and did not always please those who were accustomed to the Tibetan way. When he repeated the Zen saying: "If you meet the Buddha, kill him!" Claudio, an Italian student of Lama Yeshe's, was so offended that he picked up his stuff, and left the course.
Zina also picked up a blond American yogi who was into power-breathing. He challenged Zengo, who was into the power aspect of meditation, and they had a snorting match sitting in front of each other in lotus position on the lawn. Really, the scene was quite crazy that summer! Zengo's disciples mixed acid in his morning cereal one day when they were going on an outing with him. When he started tripping, he felt that the ultimate enlightenment had come upon him and he let his people know that he was Maitreya, the Buddha of the future whose coming is predicted in the scriptures. Knowing that he was tripping, the cruel disciples did not take him seriously and, having lost their belief in him, they all left.
There were now only a few people remaining at Kopan, among them Sylvia and Cynthia, two lesbian Americans. Zengo told Sylvia that for a master sex was not a problem and invited her to become his mistress, but she declined and openly let him know that she preferred Cynthia. Desperate to regain his position as teacher he decided to give another meditation course, but when he announced it to the girls they just laughed at him.
In the end he left all alone. I heard later that under the name of His Holiness Maitreya Buddha he got a new group of followers in England.

SUMMER IN SANTA CRUZ

One artichoke for the eye, not for the stomach

Lila, my new house mate

Fourth of July, drumming for peace

QUOTE

“Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.”

Benjamin Franklin - 1755

OAK BRANCHES

I have been working on this since I was in Ukiah.

A GAY MARRIAGE

While I was living with Don Cherry’s family in Tågarp in Sweden I went back to visit in the communal house in Älmeboda where I had been living the year before. The local weekly paper was lying around and I picked it up. It contained normally only a few items of local interest, but this one had a story that made me chuckle:

A justice of peace in Nevada had married a gay couple trying to make it possible for one of them, who was not an American citizen, to legally remain in the United States. A local homophobe demonstrated his disapproval of gay marriage by going to the judge and asking to be married to his horse, but the judge turned him down on the ground that his horse was underage.

I really loved how cleverly the judge warded off the attempt at discrediting his act of marrying a gay couple.

A few years later I was in America and my lesbian friend Sylvia asked me if I could help a gay friend of hers who was threatened with expulsion by having him for a while at my place in the mountains. I remembered the story and I had a hunch that this was the same person as the one who was married in Nevada and whose story had found its way into Älmeboda’s local rag. And sure enough it was he, still on the run from the American immigration, which of course had not respected the marriage.

OPTIC ILLUSION

You don't need to do anything but look and it'll start moving.

ONE MORE PAINTING

Here is my last painting. Pretty crazy!

TAI JI

This cool picture was in the dance studio in Ukiah. Try to move backwards and forwards while looking at it. Do you see something?

Let’s talk about nothing.

Nothing is really interesting to discuss.

It’s a question whether nothing does exist?
Is nothing something and is something nothing?

I simply believe nothing does not exist.
In reality it’s nothing.

I wonder if nothing is worth discussing then?
I hope so, since nothing is being discussed.

Enough of that.
Forget it, it’s just nothing.

MORE FROM UKIAH

Mario

Reflections in the pond

Hills

This young deer was hanging out near the house and let me get quite close for a picture

DANCE CLASS IN UKIAH

June and Diansu.
June is my friend from Japan who is visiting America at the moment.
Diansu is brother in law to Ibro Konaté who was my teacher when I first was in Guinea, West Africa in 1995 and 1996.

DAVID

A boy I knew in Paris a long time ago.

ERIC MASSART

Flute player

Toreador

Torso

Plate

Table

Eric Massart is a 45 year old artist who lives in Alès, a small town near Nîmes in southern France. Here he has a workshop and showroom for his colorful art that includes works in many materials, not only paintings but also ceramics and furniture. I am very impressed with his work and urge you to visit his website.