Lei

1 Million Crystals

The cold air blows and with each push I become more tired. One shovel, two shovel, three shovel more. Each shovel adds up to the one million pieces of frozen ice crystals I move from one place to another. Piling it up higher and higher. Harder and harder that pile becomes. Colder and colder the mountain becomes. No sharp corners just one giant mass. I million pieces of frozen ice crystals keep falling all around.

I bought more road salt. In total I have purchased sixty kilograms. In the back of my truck it sits with a number of other heavy items. I'm also getting tired of my shovel. Really like its getting to be quite the workout making my arms feel tired everyday. According to the news, this will be the first white christmas since, since I was born! What does this mean? Will my life start all over again? A second life? I would like it to be. To new and better things! To a whole new wonderful life! Wait, its not new years yet. Ahhh so what. A toast!

Thats the way my love is.

The film is thick all over the bath tub, the tiles and the shower curtain. I spray the bathroom cleaner everything releasing the toxic fumes into the air. It even feels toxic as it hits me and soon I am lying on the floor...

Chocolate. I love it. The taste of pure dark chocolate with the sweet minty center of each and every After Eight square is pure delight. One after another they go in. It is quite simply... unstoppable. One box sits open and all the empty black wrappers lay all over the place. The second box is also open as the twenty-first square enters my mouth sending me into oblivion.

Flash back almost one year ago when I passed out after endulging in too much of the same drug. Traces of the chocolate and mint running down the side of my mouth, all over my hands and fret of my guitar. A red and white guitar whose graphics mimic those of Eddy Van Halens' famed stringed wonder.

That's the way my love is.

The funeral went well. It was time well spent with relatives which I rarely see and actually quite bad on my part as it seems that it has taken such an event in my life to reconnect with the only cousins I have in the greater vancouver area. They, the surviving two sons of my late aunt sat through the ceremony besides their father. Occasionally getting up to bow and pay respect to their mother and all those who have come to do the same. Large displays of fresh flowers stand at the front as the Bhuddist organization sang and prayed for my aunt in her new life.

While waiting for the ceremony to begin, the eldest of the two sons reflected back on the last time we were all here at this same place. A group portrait was taken and he noticed that 'he was the only one smiling'. He wasn't old enough to fully comprehend the situation and so when the photographer told everyone to look at the camera, he did what he thought was normal. Smile for a picture. That time it was my grandfather who had died. This time it is his mother. This time he is crying. They are all crying.

We took the flowers from the front and placed them all around my grandfathers burial site. One plot of land sits empty waiting to be filled. My grandmother stands over the plaque unphased. I wonder what she is thinking. I did not ask though she was not silent. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Starla.

I wake up. Traces of the toxic fumes are still in the air but not as strong as before. The solution of cleaning fluid and soap film has dissolved but dried again. A quick rinse and I will be able to make out a clear reflection of myself on the bottom of the tub.

One Saturday Afternoon

Every week I load up the back of my truck with groceries and supplies which have been temporarily stored in the garage. When I am done, I press the button and the garage door starts too close just slow enough for me to quickly run from the switch and out. The only problem was that this time, I didn't run out fast enough. In fact I was no where close. The door was almost two-thirds of the way down when I crouched down in an attempt to slither out along the ground only to get stuck. So there I lay face down with the garage door firmly pressing down on me just below my shoulders. Nobody else was home to help get me out, the neighbours were seemingly absent and all that there was was the light wind and the bright afternoon sun shining down on me.
In the distance the sound of a lawnmower could be heard and a dog barking. At first it seemed so silly but soon that feeling turned to frustration. A couple of hours had passed by when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a dark object moving nearby. I turned my head as far as I could to see that it was a squirrel. One of the ones which I probably have been trying to catch with the trap up in the attic. It is quite obvious that I have not been too successful with the small animal trap. Yet here I am in what appears to be the reverse situation. Here I am trapped on the ground with the garage door on top of me and this small furry creature just a few feet away from me, free to do whatever he or she wants to do... to me.
I stared at the squirrel and it stared back at me holding a small nut cupped between its two little clawed hands, knawing and chipping it with its teeth. More time passes by and it becomes more comfortable with my presence and lack of movement so it comes closer inch by inch, eventually deciding to jump up and sit on my head.
I became nervous, worried, wondering what it was going to do. Claw my eyes out? Fall asleep on me? I couldn't see what it was doing anymore from that angle and being so close. I could just feel the quick little movements of hits body and tail before the tiny crumbs of nut shells started to land on the side of my ear. The wind picked up and suddenly the squirrel jumped off and ran away.
In the late afternoon sun it started getting hot. Sweat rolled down my face as the heat continued to burn. In my mind I imagined eagles or vultures circling high above in the sky waiting. Waiting as I melted under the blistering light. In reality there was a couple of crows perched up on the edge of the gutter almost directly above me. I watched them for a long while as they seemed motionless until one crow turned around so its butt was hanging over the edge. It was dropping something and that something landed just a foot away from my head. I couldn't really see this but that is what had happened. A small pile of bird dropping laid on the concrete ground beside me. That I saw.
Then there was a jingle. The sound of light panting. It was a dog approaching me. It sniffed around me before settling down quietly beside my face and doing nothing. Around the neck was a dog tag named 'chip'.
"Hey chip... good boy chip. good dog chip" I said.
"Go get help ok? Go chip go... go get help"
Chip just sat there obediently quiet but unresponsive. Wonderful. Mans best friend here to keep me company but unable to get help or do anything. I pleaded with him some more but it was useless when chip started to lick the sweat off my face.
I was getting hungry by now. My stomach was making funny noises when chip the dog finally left. A car pulled up into the driveway. A door opened and closed and some footsteps came up to me.
"Hey Lei, what are you doing down there? Ha ha ha!"
It was my brother.

MOVING IV

The bus continued to struggle on the hill, moving up a foot or two, rolling back a foot or two. It's engine would rev up really high yet the wheels would not spin. I stood there wanting to help in someway. All I had was the shovel in my hand. If I only had a board or something to jam underneath the rear tire of the bus, then it could get some grip instead of the wet icy snow. I thought about this as the bus slid back abruptly against the curb. The weight of the bus against the curb startled me a bit. I was beginning to get nervous.

Inside some people continued to look at me. I was the only person there. After a while, more of them started to notice me. Soon, people were talking and pointing at me. They were looking angry. The bus driver then got involved yelling at everyone to be quiet and stay calm as he struggled to get the bus free . Some people were talking to him and pointing at me. Half the people were standing up by now when the rear door flung open and the noise from the group could be heard.
"Look! He did it! He did this!" cried one man.
"We're all stuck here because of him. I need to get home because my daughter is getting hungry." yells one woman.
"I have an exam tomorrow and now I'm stuck here on this bus. How am I supposed to get any studyingdone tonight?" cries a young man.
Another young man steps in front of the group. "Lets get him!"
I take a step back, turn around and start running. The mob follows and the chase is on. Down the dark alley to the next block my heart is racing. The adrenaline is kicking in and the physical stress becomes unnoticeable. Behind me the sound of all the passengers including the bus driver could be heard. They are shouting and flailing their arms in the air.
"He's getting away!"
I still don't notice my heavy breathing. It seems almost effortless as the group behind me fall behind. Only some of the younger men are keeping up. The women and children drop off. The bus driver has already turned around. I can do this. I can escape! My shovel has been abandoned a few hundred meters ago. It is just me alone running in the streets. But then, my lungs start to hurt. A cramp develops in my stomach. The adrenaline is fading away and the initial fight or flight reaction has worn off. My pace slows. I am out of shape. The few younger men catch up to me as I have to stop and catch my breath. I feel something hit me in the stomach, then my face before falling unconscious. The three young men drag me on the ground by the top of my jacket all the way back to the bus in the snow.

I wake up feeling numb in various parts of my body. My shoulders are tight. My jacket is all torn. Something rough and itchy is wrapped around my neck but it is loose. I strain to turn my head downward and see that all the snow which I had shovelled off the sidewalk and onto the road was now in a huge pile beneath me. I was in it up to my shoulders and my arms have been bound against my sides. Above me was the lamp post. The itchy thing around my neck was a noose with the other end tied to the top of the lamp post high above the street. How in the world did they get the rope up there I wonder. For the time being I was being held up by the huge pile of snow eight feet off the ground. The group of passengers all stood around the base of the snow pile around me below and in a circle. The streets were empty. There was no one to help.
"Maybe next time you'll think twice before you shove all that snow onto the road by the bus stop for the bus to get stuck in" one person remarks. Half the other people were jeering and yelling at the same time. Another person was waving my shovel in the air when the bus driver comes in front to quiet the crowd.
"Now now people... lets get on with this." he says. "Hey little girl, please do us the honour of lighting the fire." The bus driver hands a small torch to a young girl who looks no more than five or six years old.
"Go ahead honey, take the torch and light the oil" says the mother to her daughter. It was the woman who had complained about her daughter getting hungry after having to wait on the bus.
"But mommy, I'm cold, when's dinner?" the little girl cries.
"Soon my dear, soon. Just light the oil with the torch so we can leave now." The girl dips the torch down into the oil and in an instant, a ring of fire around the base of the pile of snow appears. The flames are high and everyone stands back.
"I hope you die!" yells one man.
"Burn in hell!" says another as a man throws my shovel into the air. It lands upright in the pile of snow beneath me. The flames dance higher and higher and soon the plastic handle at the end of the shovel begins to melt.
"Lets go people. All aboard now. Time to get you all home" says the bus driver. The mob make their way back to the bus which is sitting on the road. There is no more snow around it. It is all in the pile beneath me holding me up. But soon, it will melt and the rope around my neck will become unbearable. How did I get myself into this I thought to myself. It must be one in the morning right now and cold outside. Yet I am only half cold. My legs freeze in the snow I stand while the heat from the flames in the moat of oil around me burn furiously melting the snow at the same time. The oil pops as the melted snow mix with the burning oil boiling, evaporating into the air.
A voice cries out "Die you bastard!" fading as the roar of the engine takes over and the bus begins to speed away with all the people inside.

It begins to snow again. One by one I watch the flakes fall down and melt in front of my eyes. Each one is different. I can see it. The light from the lamp post turns off as the flames continue and the snow beneath me melts away quietly.

Lord of the Exchange

*Note: Please read Tsubame, Gambit and Sausalito's most recent entries before reading this one.*

The war wages on for middle blog earth. Men grow weak and evil will prevail. Hearts of men, grow small filled only by the quest for power and fortune. Sausalito is made to stand alone, betrayed by Gambit who sits idle far away in the kingdom of Montreal.

The air is cold and I am alone. All I have left are some cookies from the elves of the western skies. One Peak Frean cookie is enough to fill the stomach of a man and last for a day. I sit there high up on the snow covered peak of Blackcomb waiting for the signal. The beacon which is a call for help to relay back to the other peaks. All which end up back in the kingdom of Montreal for Gambit to respond.

For twenty six straight days stinging cold rain falls from the dark clouds. Bjorn the white wizard flies above in his falcon with no glass. Looking on there is a continuous ceiling of blackness in the sky which clear a path for the armies of the evil capitalist pigs as they march out to the city of SanFran. All hopes lie in Tsubame as he struggles to make his way to Mount Pele. Fire and lava spew into the air signaling the verocity and might of the great eye. In his right hand he clutches the glass lense. With a focal length of 600 millimeters, the great eye seas all through the glass. It is thought that only a few remain on middle blog earth. However, the great evil grows and has already begun to take hold of Tsubame. Cursing to himself, fighting as a normal halfling while crawling on the sharp rocks of Mount Pele. They pierce his skin. He is bloodied in frustration vowing to take the ring while at the same time wanting the photos for himself. For glory. For Vanity. That which a tiny adjustment of the ring can bring all into sharp focus and to him.

Only the rocks formed from the lava of Mount Pele can scratch the ring. The inscriptions remain intack, markings of the words of the great eye, "F4-5, 100-300mm Tokino aspherical lense". The ring must be cast back into the depths of Mount Pele from whence it was made.

Men must unite and the king must rise once again. Carrying the tripod which was broken long ago, it has been reforged by fire from the west and Elven sorcery. There is only one who can wield the power of the tripod and lead all men into battle.

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With a budget of 28 million dollars, the new Lord of the Rings musical opened in Toronto last week. In the days before this, my sister lent me her special extended box set of the Lord of the Rings. I planted myself on my couch and watched every minute of this fantastic tale of elves, wizards, evil knights of death and more, all over again.

It was also my sister n law's birthday last week so we went out for korean food at a place called Jang Mo Jib. There are two locations in the lower mainland. One on Robson street downtown. We went to the larger one in richmond. It was good. BBQ beef, squid pancake and the traditional spicy pork stew. Kind of like a hot pot dish which you cook at the table.

Afterwards I got to see some photos from their Hawaiian vacation in November last year. They go there quite often and this time, my brother wanted to do something "manly" as he put it. So they went shark fishing. The boat could hold up to forty people all fishing if they wanted to. Yet only three people signed up. My brother, his wife and an american tourist. I think it was because the trip left at midnight. They had the whole boat to themselves and the tour operators. Large tuna fish was used for bait and my brother caught himself a Mako shark.

Note:All shark photos have been provided by my brother.

Approximately five or so feet long it was much bigger than I expected when he first told me about it.

Smile. The third tourist helped my brother by attempting to cut the hook or line from the mouth with a giant cutter. Half the hook remained as the shark was released back into the ocean to prey on local surfers. Supposedly, it will fall out eventually.

So no shark fin soup. However, his wife caught a few smaller fish which was cooked and served right on the boat.

Whistler was good this weekend. I went up with two friends and met up with another three. The mountain received sixteen centimeters of new snow for us to play in and play we did, not stopping for lunch.

There was a West Jet company tent set up with staff handing out small packs of Peak Frean cookies. The ones with the fruit centres. While walking through the tent, the people offered me a pack of cookies. I said no at first before returning and telling them that I changed my mind. Then I went back and asked for more. I'd be a fool to turn down those cookies. It also doesn't hurt to ask too.

The sun was out on seventh heaven and at one point we all just sat their on the slope. Ahead of us was a large sunken area about fifteen to twenty feet deep and maybe fifty feet wide by twenty feet long. A snowboarder had fallen in and we watched him struggle to get out. It was futile as he tried to climb straight up the soft wall of snow. After some ten minutes or so, he finally figured out that all he had to do was walk out the side instead of up. When he got out, we all cheered. At that point, he must have felt funny as he looked around before finally seeing us in our group looking at him. He raised his hands up in acknowledgement probably with much embarassment.

A Portrait

We have here a photo of a person taken with a 35mm film camera. This low resolution scan does not accurately reflect what I see in the actual print I have before me. The Yashica T4 Super camera with its razor sharp Carl Zeiss lense proves once again its ability to render well saturated colours and display great contrast. The T* coated lense also helps to reduce flares from stray light sources.

Here we have our test subject in a provocative pose all be it a little too far to the left.

Following the rule of thirds, each part of the picture is on the thirds with the subject in the middle. From the foreground detail of brightly lit snow to the deep blue sky, you get it all with an aperture range up to F22 on the fixed focus 35mm glass. The programmed aperture exposure and focus lock worked wonderously at times when I was not even conscious of its function. I did not need that small viewfinder for the camera itself was like a third eye fixed to the end of my hand. All I had to do was hold it and point it in the general direction without evening looking and *snap*.

The Yashica T4 Super was discontinued the year that I bought it being the only one remaining in the London Drugs display case. These days, I wait endlessly for a digital point and shoot to replace it but have yet to find one adequate to the task. My Yashica T4 cannot last forever. I've fallen off a horse with it and crunched it in my pack numerous times. The plastic weatherproof body is already cracked and I dread the day that it becomes unfixable and unreplaceable.

And when that day comes, I will mourn the passing of the prized piece of technological marvel in all its perfection and operational simplicity. There is no other.

Did You Enjoy The Weather This Weekend

On the first day, the water came down. The sky was closed and all that could be seen was darkness. Like her hair which is as long as the clouds are from the ground that I stand on. From her head down her back. That evening the air was cold outside. She would not face me until the next day. That's when she turned to look back at me and smiled over her bare shoulders. That's when the sun finally came out in the morning and all its rays came out from the edge of the land. The warmth of the light could be felt near, but it was still very far away.

Did you enjoy the weather this weekend?

When I Close My Eyes

When I close my eyes, the world comes alive. The people and places that I see are far beyond reality. Why can't life be like this? Why must life be like this?

When I close my eyes, I can die. Sometimes it is most frightening. Sometimes it is not to my liking. I try to escape because sometimes life can be like this.

When I close my eyes, everything disappears. Everything disappears before appearing to be near. Numbers that I do not like. Names of no significance. Feelings. Feelings both good and bad blur into more thoughts, all to point somewhere here.

When I close my eyes, I see darkness. Black as night with all the stars inside. Bright and sparkly, they cease to desist. I am the star. I am the night. I am the darkness all around.

Summers Breeze

"Wouldn't it be nice to just once go to sleep, dream a nice dream and never have to wake up..."

I was reorganizing my old closet and came across some posters which I had forgot about. One was my prized U2 poster that I never put up. The picture is that of the album/cd cover for Achtung Baby and was purchased at their Zoo TV concert. The other is still rolled up and sealed in plastic. I opened it and found that it was a picture of a surfer in a wave. The top of the wave is half way over him and the view of the photo is from a person floating in the water at the opening to the tube with the surfer heading towards them. The camera is right on the water surface.

I don't remember when or where I bought this one. It might have been given to me from a high school friend of mine. His parents owned a small cabin in Tofino on the island. He and his brother were heavily into surfing. They had three boards. A long one and two short ones. I went there once during the summer to try my hand at surfing. the water in the Pacific Ocean was very cold and we had to wear full wetsuits even though it was the middle of summer and 31 degrees outside. The beach we were at was covered in fog but once you got away from shore, it was clear. If you paddled too far out, the current would carry you away and throw you onto the rocks.

In the evening we camped on the beach. The cabin was rented out to some people which is why we didn't use it. I had a huge six man dome tent which could hold everything inside with plenty of room to spare. Long board included. That's camping in luxury. A spot on the fine soft beach and a view of the falling sun over the continuous sets of waves coming in. The summers breeze continued with our campfire burning away and not another sign of civilization on the desolate beach which was clear at night. That's one of two only two enjoyable camping experiences I've ever had. Both were on the beach. All the rest don't compare. Rain soaked ground, cold temperatures, uncomfortably hard or uneven ground to sleep on. I dislike it when it gets like that.

It was the first time I tried surfing and if memory serves me correctly, it seemed hard at the time. Much harder than the last time I tried it. As for my friend, I don't know where he's at these days. The last time I saw him was at his wedding. He married a woman from down under which he met while backpacking through europe. They moved to the island where he got a job as a writer for some small newspaper.

It warmed up quite a bit today. I think the half pipe up at Blackcomb is just one big ice pipe by now. It's not at the top of the mountain so it may not have gotten any fresh snow in the dumpings over the previous weeks. I'll have to find a different pipe to play on. I think I'll keep this poster too. Not sure where I'll put it though. And remember to buy one of those camera's which you can buy a waterproof case for underwater shots. That would be cool.

...DJ Tiesto's CD Summers Breeze

The End of Your World

I haven't seen you in quite a while. I was down the hold, just passing time. The last time we met, it was a low-lit room and we were as close together as a bride and groom. We ate the food. We drank the wine. Everybody was having a good time, except you. You were worrying about the end of the world.

I gave you money without you knowing, yet you spiked my drink. I miss too much these days if I stop to think. You led me on with those beautiful eyes. And you don't know how I love the element of surprise. In the garden, I was playing the tart. We didn't kiss but I broke your heart. You were acting like it was the end of your world.

In my dream I was drowning my sorrows but my sorrows they learned to swim. They surrounded me, all around me and spilling over the rim. In waves of regret, and waves of joy, I reached out for the one I tried to destroy. You. You never said you'd wait until the end of the world.

--- based on the lyrics of U2.

Part II - Kitchen Opera

I fought hard to keep myself together but it was no use. The tears streamed down my face falling forming circles of pain and anguish on the counter below. With each slice of the knife, the pungent fumes burned my heavily watered eyes. It was unbearable. Soon half the onion was diced and added to the bowl with the rest of the ingredients. Fresh chopped roma tomatoes, goat feta cheese crumbled down, sprinkles of basil leaves, some salt and freshly ground pepper, and a small handfull of black olives sliced thick.

Spoonful after spoonful the greek salad was fed into my mouth without hesitation. The saltiness of the fresh feta balanced perfectly against the ripe red tomatoes in the lightly seasoned glaze of extra virgin olive oil. When it was finished, I moved onto the salmon. Grilled in a convection oven with bbq sauce, the thick moist portions were exquisite. Wonderfully charred around the edges with the skin giving a light crunch mixing well with the mild sweetness of the sauce and tender fillets.

Next episode, the apple pie.

One Single Valentine

A rose with no name. Sharp thorns with no voice.
Your colour is deep and petals are soft.
With two small arms in a dark green hue,
grounded in earth, partly hidden from view.
Will you be mine, just this one time.

Lost

The path has disappeared and the light has become dark.
I have wandered out too far on my own, now I can not find my way back home. That is where I want to be more than anything.
To be in the warm and safe confines of that place which eludes me to this day.
Where is that beacon of light to guide oneself.
Blackness, nothingness, is all that is there.
Disillusioned, blind, lost and confused,
torn down, stretched, abused beyond ones view.
It makes me hollow. So much so that it has become impossible to fill.
What can I do to not be empty when only in my mind are such things so fine.

See with your Eyes

A rose, a leaf, the sky,
One by one I see each one,
It is evil, it is good,
It is from all or it is from none,

A combination of the few,
A combination of the two,
A blurring of the mind,
Yet sharply defined,

Sometimes a person,
Sometimes a place,
Sometimes a thing,
Or just some time,

Every frame is vivid,
Every picture is accurate,
Every image is frozen,
As a thought in my mind,

To see one through ones eyes,
To see one deep inside,
There lies the naked self,
There one can not hide,

A tear rolls down the cheek,
A sorrow within one weeps,
You do not need your eyes to feel,
To feel something you can not see

Love is a Virus

With one touch, the bond is formed,
living, breathing and moving with you,

Love is a Virus,
Coursing through your veins,
Deep in your soul, all through your heart,
you feel it, it grows,
beating strongly, it will consume,

Love is a virus,
It gives you life, but it takes as well,
it will not go, It holds you for life,

Love is a virus,
its in your thoughts, that which can't be stopped,
the dreams, the visions, disappear do not,

Love is a virus,
The struggle is hopeless, I can not break free,
for I have allowed it, to take a piece of me.

Perpetual Reciprocity

...By Leimon

Love is Life and
Life is Love
Love gives Life and
Life gives Love

I love You and
You love Me
We are One and
One are We

Seconds, Days, Weeks, go by
It will not, It can not, It has not died

Months, Years, Lives pass by,
I would not, I could not, I have not died

I miss

In the photo her skin glows under the falling Hawaiian sun. Her figure is beautiful. Her dark hair shines. It's all tied up in a way that only she knows how. I see life emanating from her. She is a lioness. She rules all in her surrounding.

The potential, the strength, the demeanor as seen deep in her eyes. The softness of her skin, and the line down her back. Her hands are warm. They are reassuring. They form an instant bond.

The sound of her voice is unmistakable. I miss her.