Saturday XXXII: Stop Owl Commodification · 16 November 2007
I found the ecstatic grassroots movement I've been imagining. Uh oh. But I’m not going to tell you about it. Except to say it involves a secret society and does not involve naked yoga.
Returned to morning practice this week, which included Thursday contortions next to an intriguing New York ashtangi poet met through this medium. Somewhere between post-practice Fred Segal and Real Food Daily brunch, I realized I'd been charmed. Sometimes RL is so much better.
I have to admit morning practice and the rhythms it creates for me are what I love best, even though I have adored the evenings this fall. I’ve done six weeks of all 5:00 practices, milking the habituated morning energy spike for dissertationly purposes. Gradually over the weeks this has shifted my energy eveningward, and the mornings have slowed. The experiment has showed me so much about my choices in energy-distribution: between relationships, work and practice. About practicing to give energy to my life rather than letting practice be the main event. I’ll try to write more about this before it is gone.
● I am kind of excited about the little movie about bob dylan this week.
● Speaking of sentimental wonders: a re-realease of songs a decade old at the RJM Digital Archive. He never used to talk to me back in the days when he was making these recordings. I was generally pissed off and what people called "intense" while he was ethereal and lovey. Tendencies which have tempered on both sides. But one December afternoon after my shift at the library desk I passed him under the pine trees and asked for a cassette. Listened throughout the Christmas break, out there driving a Dodge truck on icy Montana roads. Up to the ski area for days alone on Red Lodge Mountain, and down to the bars in town for nights with my old nemesis—the only other one of us rural kids who escaped, albeit in her case to a worser fate. That’s where these songs go for me.
● What else? Well, here is some trouble. Some good discussion earlier in the week. If you come around, you better listen at least as sharply as you soapbox. We are so done with recycled opinions and 2004-era rants.
● Oh, and whoever sold my address to Yoga Pura also gave it to Anthropologie, whose catalog just arrived.
I tolerated it this summer when the outer hipstosphere switched from swallows to owls as their cute-but-disturbing bird of choice (ho hum). But now there are owl candles, an owl purse and (yes, Tova) an owl apron in the Anthro catolog. I mention this by way of saying to those of you who might be tempted: I don’t actually like owls. Please no owl things for the holidays. (Unless it's something really good, you know.) Otherwise, STOP OWL COMMODIFICATION.
That’s enough linking. I don’t care what else was being said in the world this week.
Posted by (0v0)
Categories: astanga yoga
, esoteric shit
, evolution
, having a body
, markets-networks-society
, sound
Previous entry: The Sign of Liotta / Next entry: Fifteen for Thirty, Part II
Comment
Commenting is closed for this article.
WHAT ABOUT VEGAS?
Posted by: FLINT · Nov 17, 03:55 AM · #
ooooh, aprons!!!!
i want to know about your secret society!
Posted by: cranky housefrau · Nov 17, 05:05 AM · #
I put Vegas on the abovelinked political blog, yo.
It is unclear whether I am allowed to link to rainbow flash movies and hoodie Alex Grey.
Posted by: (0v0) · Nov 17, 07:24 AM · #
i always thought it was fred seagull! owl, i know your ss. it’s the ss of the bagna cauda, is it not?
Posted by: eeyore · Nov 17, 08:48 AM · #
wet tail?
Posted by: cranky housefrau · Nov 17, 09:45 AM · #
wet what?
Posted by: eeyore · Nov 17, 10:36 AM · #
bagna cauda? wet tail?
Posted by: cranky housefrau · Nov 17, 10:52 AM · #
that rainbow flash movie is the most intense thing to me.
Posted by: FLINT · Nov 17, 03:49 PM · #
What flash movie?
I felt somewhat manipulated by the soundtrack.
I guess all that powerpoint standup comedy taught you how to do wonders with programs you despise.
Posted by: (0v0) · Nov 17, 04:37 PM · #
i like how the pet photos are all low-res.
Posted by: R · Nov 17, 06:07 PM · #
me too.
no, cranky, wet tail? i think bagna cauda=hot bath. actually, i like ‘wet tail’ better.
Posted by: eeyore · Nov 18, 01:55 PM · #
Also, Telluride believes that the Dylan movie is good. FWIW
Posted by: FLINT · Nov 18, 02:00 PM · #
Naked baths, Eeyore? Big Sur?
Actually, my ss is tenuously related to grail quests.
Time to re-state the IO motto.
Astanga Yoga: Reviving the Grail Quest One Practitioner at a Time
Posted by: (0v0) · Nov 18, 02:07 PM · #
yes, that’s really it, isn’t it?
yeah, this week? have fun, please do not miss those esalen naked moments!
Posted by: eor · Nov 19, 11:25 AM · #
I just remembered that the volitional part of your old email address boiled down to “hormiga”, and now have a sneaking suspicion you don’t like ants, either. All that quiet industry and compact strength don’t sway you?
Pish.
Just tell me I won’t have to see your secret cell meeting uncovered by Greta van Susteren or something.
Posted by: dailymiltonian · Nov 19, 03:58 PM · #
The SS would not interest Greta.
I thought of hormiga7, which still lives as a commerce-account, when I wrote something about “eaten by ants” recently.
Originally, the source of the hormiga name was Dominick LaCapra’s “Is Everyone a Mentalite Case? Transference and the Culture Concept,” a 1984 article in the journal History and Theory.
He writes: “The archival, sociocultural historian is a busy little ant that is not afraid to dirty its ‘hands’ with real labor as it stores up real knowledge.”
I took the name to get perspective when I headed off to the musty Managua archives. Considering all the German megahistory nonsense we’d been mulching the previous couplea years.
The owl, if you get me, is a way of allowing some return to dialectical thinking. Even though I say somewhere on this site that such a meaning would be obnoxious.
Posted by: (0v0) · Nov 19, 04:18 PM · #