Be Reckless

The Eternal Sunshine Needed By My Mind

One sun ray shyly poking out of the clouds, and I am already in a better mood.
My headache is gone and my smile is back. Why am I so weather-dependent?

California weather was one of the main reasons behind my choice to move here from Italy, I recall. Once decided that I did want indeed to come living in the U.S., I ruled out New York (where it would have been much easier in terms of opportunities for my professional career,) and unanimously voted for the City of Angels.

I never regretted it. But last year down-pouring and this year little taste of what could happen again made me wonder. Should I just swap homes with my friends in Seattle? Rain-lovers to their bones, they are complaining about the unusual and sudden drought they experienced recently.

So much for the weather. I'll spend some time in the kitchen today cooking for my friend Daniel, who's coming to dinner. Daniel is 25, and one of the most accomplished people I know. The guy is amazing, Harvard MBA material despite his almost-ghetto background. Most recently, he turned out to be a lot of fun too. After focusing on his business goals for three years straight, he realized that he has a right to enjoy life more on his own terms. And I have been so privileged to observe his amazing rebirth.

Daniel likes meatballs so I am going to dig out grandma's recipe for her special ones. I am the family depositary of four incredible books of recipes, all in her beautiful penmanship with collages of clippings from women magazines of the Fifties. Too bad I can't really follow recipes, I find it so boring. But they work as inspirational tools.

Oh yes! I'll be working magic alchemy in the kitchen and forget about the still unsettled weather out of the kitchen window. I bet I can even lift Moki's mood, as depressed as mine by the gray sky, bribing him with a juicy meatball. Lucky dog, I don't follow the rule of no-human-food to the dog either.

Rules are also just inspirational tools. Strict adherence to them is not my thing. Philosophy works better but my "rule" for that is, if it can grow corn, then it's a good philosophy; if it cannot, I don't need it.

Long Distance Love

There are advantages and disadvantages in a long distance relationship. I had a few in the past and I'm having a happy one going on at the present time. Intensity is one of the bigger advantages, in case you're wondering what am I talking about. When you see each other again after being separated for a while, it's 4th of July firework-time any time of the year.

This is exactly how I felt this afternoon when I got my car back from the body shop. How beautiful she was! How nice! How... kissable. Well, I did not really kiss her but Moki did, dutifully licking one of the arm rests on the back door. I suspect it was just because one of the workers spilled some tasty burrito tiny bites there but it still looked cute.

So now my experiment is over and the results are as follows:

1) Yes, you can survive Los Angeles without private transportation but

2) Your life quality will hardly improve unless

3) You can deal with:

a) being slowed down
b) being very zen and patient
c) depend on others, particularly when you still want to go out at night, the dreadful time when public transportation becomes a true challenge.

Patience is hardly one of my virtues, and a slow pace just kills me. I am also addicted to independence and I like to act on the spur of the moment. Actually, did I mention how much I hate planning in advance even small moves like a ride to Griffith Park?

So, yes, I am happy that my car is back.

I never realized how much I love her and miss her until I had to go without. Life is just soooo much better when you have wheels.

What Should I Do With My Life?

The title of this post is the title of Po Bronson's last published book. The next one, Why Do I Love These People, should arrive in bookstores soon. Po Bronson is one great writer and the cofounder of Il Grotto in San Francisco, among other things.

I had a chance to interview him recently for an article I was writing about the topic "writers' communities", as Il Grotto is, and I found him sharp and pleasant. However, I never expected what happened tonight when I finally read this excerpt from his book, clicking on

http://www.fastcompany.com/online/66/mylife.html

I knew about the book, I saw it in the bookstores and thought it might be very interesting but I never really bought it and read it before. Funny how things work. Then, here is the link to this site arriving in my mailbox yesterday, late at night, and I am hooked. It was like mirroring my thoughts and reflections, idealism and passionate convictions included, down to his willingness of sharing enough time to get to know the people other writers would just "interview".

And Po Bronson too talks about dreams, and the ability to realize them at whatever age, just as I do in Reckless. He dismisses the common idea that one needs money first to fund his/her dreams telling the stories of people who did without becoming rich first.

How awesome. How inspiring. Tomorrow, first thing I'll do in the morning after coffee, will be heading to the bookstore to buy his book. You should do it too, if you are on a quest to discover inspiring life stories.

Activism or Inactivism?

There are many ways to be politically or socially active, and many ways to "protest". Collecting signatures on petitions, either on-line or on the old written form, is just one way to express opinions and eventual disagreements.

I have a long tradition of "activism" starting in my very young years in Europe. A protest march at that time meant 100,000 students, or 500,000 union workers swarming the streets of Milan. A 24 hr general strike paralyzing the whole nation. Petitions voted by oceanic assemblies. Signatures collected knocking at people's doors, house by house.

So imagine my surprise when I saw my first American "protest", ten people standing at the traffic light in front of the Federal Building in Westwood, raising a few signs. One sign addressing car-drivers saying: "Honk if you agree".

I couldn't help laughing. It seemed so... inadequate. Small. Insignificant.

But when I turned the tv on that evening to watch the news, there they were, those few people standing by a traffic light, suddenly entering the houses of millions of other people across the country. It was enough to review my standards. It was enough to make me think that even a "small" act of protest could count. In any case, it was better than just silence.

Years went by, and I became "active" in the U.S. as well, learning different ways from those I learned during my formative years in Italy. Particularly, I have been involved trying to help amending some huge injustice of the U.S. Justice System. Death penalty looked (and still does to me), like barbaric justice. Keeping behind bars people sentenced for crimes they very likely did not commit, based on evidences discovered after their legal proceedings were exhausted? Unjust as well.

Yet, I am very careful and accurate in researching each situation before committing my time and energy to help somebody. I do it only when I believe it is deserved. So was the case with Leonard Peltier (and if you don't know who he is, and what's his story, google his name and you'll get the whole picture). So was with another Indian man, James R. Weddell, incarcerated in South Dakota. Neither one was sentenced to death but Leonard is still in prison 30 years after, for a crime he did not commit. James was finally freed in 2003 from S.D.S.P, where he was "housed" since 1986.

I personally collected thousands of signatures on petitions demanding liberation for both men. I sent them to governors and presidents. I can't say what kind of weight they had in Leonard's case. Shamefully and unjustly, Leonard is still sitting in a prison despite all efforts by so many people! But I can say they DID have an influence in James' case. A "small" influence, sure. James would not be free if we did not follow a long and painful legal iter, reopening his case in habeas corpus, in 1995. It still took 8 years and we had strong, new discovered evidences to throw in. But based on his attorney's opinion, James might not be a free man nevertheless, if... If around his case there had been silence instead of support. And all those petitions signed by thousands and thousands of people around the world showed that support.

So my idea is, everybody should do only what he believes in. But don't skeptically dismiss the importance of a small act like signing a petition. It does not cost much so give it the benefit of the doubt. You never know. They might help. And in a death penalty case, that "might" may indeed mean the alternative between life and death for someone.

OBSESSION!

I got totally obsessed. I discovered the mysterious and surprising reservoir of the feature "visitor stats and referrers" in my TypePad account, and now I'm checking it four or five times a day.

I can't help my curiosity. It's fun to know who your readers are. But the most fun, i admit, is clicking on the "google search" referrals, and see what the readers who casually came across my blog were truly seeking.

So far, the hit parade was won by a search for "Jimi Hendrix Griffith Park" that unexpectedly referred to my post "dog on wheels"! Amazing automated summing of criteria. And who knows what are the criteria automatically picked by Amazon.com. For istance, somebody let me know that yesterday, looking for my book Reckless and coming across similar titles by different authors, they decided to type instead my name and last name in the search field. The products resulting were not only the above quoted book but a compilation of "The Best of Led Zeppelin."

I wish I had a part in the lyrics for the band but... why even try to claim it, right?

Pointless Boredom

A friend was telling me that he does not know what to do this weekend, and he was feeling bored. "Bored? What you mean by bored?", I reply. And, no, I wasn't teasing him.

I have absolutely no idea of what it means to feel bored. I'd better rectify. I vaguely remember feeling bored for five minutes, two or three times when I was about five years old. By the age of six, I had decided that boredom was pointless. Experiencing boredom would not teach me anything or tell me anything more about myself that I didn't already know. I was bored only when my ability to create new grounds for my imagination and desire of exploration was bridled and limited (call it "parental restriction" of my recklessness). Otherwise, there were always one million different avenues to entertain myself or change and transform repetitive tasks that could bore me, if just left "as is".

So, yes, I don't know what it means to be bored. But I have to admit that I have ultra-minimal patience for repetition. I can't stand routine. I switch my route to get home at least three or four times a week.
I don't shop at the same grocery market twice neither walk the dog on the same trail for days in a row. But, hey, these are solutions available to anyone in order to avoid boredom.

Then there is the pleasure of expressing my creativity in different ways. I am a writer, sure. But I am also a pretty good mosaic artist. I can mosaic with almost any material from broken glass to pebble stones, so... I don't even have to have lots of money available to pursue my hobby. I love to draw and paint. I get a kick out of designing my own clothes (okay, I'm HORRIBLE at sewing so I need help, eventually, for the next step but it's even more fun to have a friend participating to my creative endeavor). I think landscaping and gardening are highly creative and expressive activities that can bring great satisfaction.

But it's really all about attitude. I can have fun even cleaning the house. Everybody knows how much I love to be in the kitchen, and maybe then I'll dress up just to have an intimate, candlelight, everyday homey dinner with my roommate, as we did two days ago. And how about having the time to slip flesh and soul right into a great book? Isn't that a fantastic luxury? When I do, I feel the endorphin tingling into my bloodstream, and it's better than drugs.

Moreover, I enjoy learning new skills. No matter what they are, computer programming or how to fix a leak in the roof (very useful, just learned this last one). The learning process in itself is very exciting to me, and handling new tools is as well. I love to be handy because it gives me more possibilities to "create".

My new "baby" project after mosaic-ing the entrance sign a couple of weekends ago, is going to be building a tree-house in the back. So, next time you feel bored and don't know what to do, give me a buzz and come over. I give you a hammer, a chain-saw, protective googles and knee pads, and you can be an active partner in building my next dream-nest.

Get in line, anyone?

Reckless Weather, Reckless Time

I am in a great mood. I couldn't wait for daylight to end, and today is sunny and shiny as a bright May day. There is fresh, tender, green grass all over the hills in the canyon. Do I love it!

I am also in a great mood for Reckless related things happening. I opened Amazon and there is one more readers' review of my book. I keep wondering who these people are, how are their lives, how did they come across my book. How interesting!

Meanwhile, my friend Litty decided that her Xmas present of choice to all her friends and family will be my book, that she will order soon by the dozens. How cute! Heather's friend Rosie, who's from S.F. and had us staying at her place during the Bloghers conference, came to visit recently with her boyfriend Anthony, who lives in S.D. She saw the book, asked me questions about it. Now she too will give it as a present to her friends for Xmas, and she came up with another idea. She will have Amazon ship them here first, so that I can sign them and then she can give them away as "personalized" gifts. How smart!

Then, there is this blog. I am enjoying so much getting feedback by the people who read it. Some readers are more daring and comment directly here. Some are shy and prefer to write me private e-mails. I heard from six shy readers this morning, giving me their own point of view about "Pointless Boredom". How interesting!

I don't want to sound provocative but with all this happening... Who could be so silly to waste time and energy feeling bored???

Romantic Serenading

My favorite of the day from Yahoo news:

"Romantic Male Mice Enjoy Singing
LAST UPDATE: 11/1/2005 11:45:38 AM
United Press International

Washington University scientists have confirmed a long-standing suspicion: romantic male mice enjoy singing complex songs to potential mates.

Neuroscientists at the St. Louis university found male mice burst out in song when they encounter sex pheromones from female mice, The Guardian reported."

Well, more encouraging news than the ones about the Supreme Court nominee.

Why Silence

Sometimes we try too hard.

We keep "busy" just because we fear emptiness.
We talk because we fear silence.
We move incessantly because we fear to be still.
We spin like pin-balls from one thing to the other.

But:

"It is in silence that new thoughts come. If we divert the mind with too much distraction, it becomes scramble like eggs"

(from Playing Chess With The Heart, words by Beatrice Woods, a very reckless woman and fabulous artist who passed away a few years ago, at 105)

On Politics, A Woman's Right To Choose, Another Woman's Right To Say It As It Is.

I have a lot on my mind in these days. Part of it is my concern about possibly loosing what I consider some very important civil rights in a near future.

Several of my friends begged me not to talk about it in this blog. They worry that expressing my opinion on such a delicate yet hot issue could drive away some readers and attract arguments by religious fanatics. They might be totally right.

But since I'm known to rule my life rather by recklessness than caution (or you can also read it as I'm unable to shut up in the name of of convenience and diplomacy), I'll say it as it is.

Even better. I'll say it with the words of who seems to be my favorite poet in these days, Beatrice Woods, a very wise and witty elderly woman, bold enough to express herself on anything she thought necessary:

"Let us face it, it is not a question of whether the law is right or wrong where abortion is concerned.
Any woman desperate enough will go to an abortionist regardless of whether there is a law against it."