text:
Authenticity is a loaded word when it comes to country music. Nearly every modern country act likes to shout out "real country fans" in arenas, even the ones pumping out bombastic party anthems about red Solo cups, shaking asses, and jacked-up pickup trucks. Then there's the historical struggle of ... More >>
Without using a time-turner--and those things are dangerous--it's impossible to see every show in Phoenix every week. It's not even possible to see all five shows in this list. But I really don't think you should resort to time-travel. There'll be five more must-see shows this weekend, after all. ... More >>
See also: Wanda Jackson on Jack White's SNL Performance, Amy Winehouse, and Some Guy Named Elvis Wanda Jackson Compound Grill Friday, March 9, 2012 Wanda Jackson may be 74 years old, but one would hardly know it listening to her belt out classics from her long and storied career Friday night at th ... More >>
There's only a handful of women who can claim to be the "Queen of Rock," and of that select few, Wanda Jackson might be the most royal. Her bonafides are undisputed: Wearing glamorous fringe dresses and sporting big hair, she electrified audiences with ramped-up rockabilly songs like "Mean, Mean Ma ... More >>
He stomps. He hollers. He yodels and howls. Scott H. Biram also plays guitar, shakes tambourines and basically, utilizing various effects, makes more of a racket on stage then one man should be allowed the pleasure. But it is a pleasure for Biram, whose music has been featured on FX's Sons of ... More >>
Maria VassettSocial Distortion Marquee Theatre Friday, February 3, 2012 Phoenix loves Social Distortion, and the band loves Phoenix, including not one but two stops on their most recent tour. Last night was business as usual: The band will played a packed venue, to a sea of drunk burly guys ... More >>
Michael Cozzo (left) & Joe Curran of Rooster Coup DeVilleMichael Cozzo has been a fixture in the local country and rockabilly scenes for several years now, first as a singer/guitarist in Liquor Store Junkies, then as a solo bluesman and now as frontman of local rockabilly act Rooster Coup DeV ... More >>
www.tangodiva.com Apparently Arizona teachers need stoic beauty, a golf course, and a pool to be in a proper learning environment. Now let's figure out what Arizona students need. When are they going to get it?In what is becoming a sickening trend, Arizona teachers are now the latest gro ... More >>
Martin CizmarLucero: Music to mosh to!Dear ex-hardcore kids,Please stop ruining roots music.Look, I get it, you're pretty much aged out of hardcore shows, but you're covered in tattoos and have plugs in your earlobes, and it's hard to find a scene. Every band you've ever liked seems to be starting a ... More >>
Racin' the Devil
(Alligator Records)
Rockabilly club
Swinging and singing
Stirring up hype and spiting the haters
The Queen of Rock 'n' Roll is still stompin'
'50s genre icon Wanda Jackson returns to the U.S. spotlight after a long absence
Authority Zero is recording its sophomore album in a gated community in Scottsdale. Totally punk rock!
The record industry thinks I'm a criminal. Here's the evidence.
Though defined by the Beatles, George Harrison's greatest musical breakthroughs were very much his own
Sun Records' rock 'n' roll pioneer survives cult-hero status
Rockabilly Hall of Famer Jody Reynolds kicks off a new tour with friend and hometown legend Al Casey
Rodney Crowell chases old ghosts down to Houston
'Autobiography' and bootleg box prove that when it comes to the Beatles, you can never just let it be
From the week of October 19
Whistle Bait: 25 Rockabilly Rave-Ups; Ain't I'm a Dog: 25 More Rockabilly Rave-Ups (Columbia/Legacy)
Royal (Time Bomb)
After 40 years, Delta legend Big Jack Johnson continues to dig into the heart of the blues
1,161 rock stars were fatally injured in the making of The Encyclopedia of Rock Obituaries
New releases by Brian Setzer and Squirrel Nut Zippers test the staying power of the neo-swing movement
Phonoroyale carries the torch song into the modern world
Johnny Cash may be just a legend, but he has never sounded better
Ronnie Dawson was a Dallas rockabilly sensation in 1958, but it took another 30 years for him to find the spotlight


text: I just dont get what to do, I have thought of the process of putting the formulas together. I had thought of creating variables for each unit. But, one question dawns to me is that I dont know what to put as the variable for days if the variable of years would be 365, hours 24, seconds 60. Im at a loss, I am still new to JavaScript and have been searching for 3 hours. I dont know how to put the pieces together in putting it into an equation to post on an HTML. PLEASE HELP! (:

subset: commoncrawl


text:
- Age / Gender:
- n/a, Female
- Location:
- Germany
- Joined:
- 9/26/10
- All Stats >
User Statshot
- Community Stats
Level 6 Gamer
Normal Whistle
Ranked as Civilian
Contact Info / Websites
Recent Game Medals
Self Surveillance 10 Points Complete the "Moving iEye" levels Medal Stats.
BE SOMEBODY 5 Points Run away, and begin your escape. Medal Stats.
SECRET MEDAL 25 Points Unlock this medal to see it's details. Medal Stats.
SECRET MEDAL 5 Points Unlock this medal to see it's details. Medal Stats.
Safety In Plumbers 10 Points Unlock tier 2 levels. Medal Stats.
Pooptastic 100 Points Finishing the entire game Medal Stats.
Toiletastic 50 Points Finishing Level 15 Medal Stats.
Success 25 Points Finishing Level 10 Medal Stats.
Holding Strong 10 Points Finishing Level 5 Medal Stats.
Baby 5 Points Who needs Instructions Medal Stats.
Total Medals Earned: 724 (From 165 different games.)
Latest Shared Creations
crossbow Added to drawings for The Drawing Grounds Sep 15, 2012. Load Level
pencil Added to drawings for The Drawing Grounds Sep 15, 2012. Load Level
beavis Added to skins for Skincraft Jun 27, 2012. Load Level
beavis Added to skins for Skincraft Jun 22, 2012. Load Level
Favorite Audio
|Alice is Dead
|Indie Song
Favorite Movies
The Stranger Forest Rated 4.4345 Stars As usual, a very true story :) Experimental When a klown dies Rated 4.2236 Stars when a klown dies Experimental Cardboard City Rated 3.8905 Stars 11 Animators join to build a city out of only cardboard, welcome to Cardboard City! Other Larvae Rated 4.2955 Stars claws and arms and grinding teeth. Experimental
Favorite Games
Bullet Waltz Rated 3.9235 Stars Enjoy the music, dance with bullets. Watch it, dodge it, catch it, crush it. What else do Skill - Avoid Chainsaw Slasher Rated 3.7951 Stars One hero, one chainsaw and thousands of zombies! Action - Shooter - Multidirectional BackDoor- Door 1 Rated 4.0643 Stars You find yourself in a strange house with only a man on the phone as a guide. Adventure - Other Don't Escape Rated 4.1324 Stars I'm a werewolf and it's a full moon. I have to find a way to prevent myself from escaping. Adventure - Point 'n Click


text:
For a single page containing all imp API Documentation, click here.
The Electric Imp API provides a set of classes and global objects with which imp code may access local hardware and remote cloud functionality. This API augments the Squirrel Standard Library which provides non-imp-specific functionality. For more general information about the Squirrel language, see Learning Squirrel.
The Electric Imp API includes the following global objects:
It also includes these further classes, one or more instances of which can be found as members of the global hardware object:
Feedback via the forum is welcomed.


text:
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. (AP) - St. Petersburg is going "mad for plaid."
The hometown of the Tampa Bay Rays has put up blue plaid street banners along Central Avenue Tuesday and more will go up on Wednesday as the team gets ready to open the American League Divisional Series at Tropicana Field.
The banners celebrate this season's gimmick masterminded by manager Joe Maddon. Fans are clamoring for plaid Rays gear after the players arrived home decked out in matching plaid sport coats after clinching the American League East title last weekend.
The best-of-five series against the Texas Rangers starts at 1:37 p.m. Wednesday.


text: New life insurance vendor offers supplemental life insurance; proof of insurability not required St. Thomas Newsroom March 3, 2010 Sun Life Financial is UST's new life insurance vendor. As part of the an agreement with Sun Life, benefits-eligible employees can purchase supplemental life insurance coverage for themselves, their spouses and dependents up to the guaranteed coverage amounts. The offer expires Friday, March 12. Employees who apply by the deadline will not be required to prove insurability by completing medical history forms. Benefits-eligible employees will receive an information packet that outlines the supplemental life insurance coverage options and costs. Application forms and additional information are available here. Employees interested in purchasing additional life insurance coverage must complete the required forms by March 12. For more information call the Human Resources Department, Benefits Office, (651) 962-6497. RelatedStudy Abroad Opportunities Available for First-Year Students Employee benefits annual enrollment closes Nov. 18; three informational sessions remainNew Administrator Named for Short-term Disability and FMLA BenefitsTuition remission application deadline nears


text:
Engineering-Biomedical Scholarships
SchoolSoup's research team has identified Engineering-Biomedical Scholarships. SchoolSoup.com is considered the authority on college/university scholarships and we have listed over $40 Billion in available scholarships. We take pride in having the most comprehensive free and up to date information available online. It is possible that your profile does not match the requirements to obtain a Engineering-Biomedical scholarship but our directory does provide you with some of the information you will need to get your application process started.
Browse Engineering-Biomedical Scholarships:
Listing 1 to 31 of 31
|$1,000 Cappex 2015/2016 College Scholarship:
|Sponsored: Cappex Easy Money is an easy scholarship offered every month. There is no GPA requirement and no essay to write! All you have to do is create a Cappex profile and tell them what you do in your free time.
|AfterCollege Engineering Student Scholarship
|AfterCollege believes that what's good for students is good for everyone: schools, employers, community, and other students! That's why we not only help students find jobs & internships, but ...
|Alpha One Foundation Graduate Fellowship
|Awarded to graduate students in the Biomedical Engineering Program. Award supports research and specialized patient care for those suffering from Alpha-1.
|Andrew and Elvira Bozzelli and S. James and Marion D'Alessandro Fellowship
|This scholarship will be awarded to assists outstanding M.S.E. candidates in the first semester of study in the Department of Biomedical Engineering.
|B&W Y-12 Scholarship
|Established in 2004 for the benefit of graduating high school seniors wishing to pursue careers in science or pre-engineering fields. Must reside in Anderson, Blount, Campbell, Claiborne, ...
|Biomedical Engineering Award
|This scholarship is for those students who have excellent high school academic record. Must have an 1100 on the SAT and be involved in the community and school service. The student must have ...
|Biomedical Engineering Scholarship
|This scholarship is for those students who have excellent high school academic record. Must have an 1100 on the SAT and be involved in the community and school service. The student must have ...
|Brill Family Scholarship
|Cisco Scholarship
|Must be a deserving student attending DeVry University. Must major in biomedical engineering technology, biomedical informatics, computer engineering technology, computer information systems,
|Curtiss-Wright Centennial of Flight Scholarship
|The student must be enrolled full-time in Biomedical Engineering, Chemical and Molecular Engineering, Computer Engineering, Electrical Engineering, Engineering Science / Materials Science, or
|Dr. and Mrs. C. William Loughry Scholarship in Biomedical Engineering
|Dr. and Mrs. Loughry have established this scholarship in biomedical engineering to benefit students in the Department of Biomedical Engineering who have a grade point average of at least 3.3
|ScholarshipPoints $10,000 Scholarship
|Sponsored: ScholarshipPoints.com will give away up to $100,000 in scholarships this year.
|Edwards Lifesciences Biomedical Engineering Student Scholarship
|AfterCollege believes that what's good for students is good for everyone: schools, employers, community, and other students! That's why we not only help students find jobs & internships, but ...
|GEM Ph.D Science Fellowships
|Financial assistance for graduate study offered by the National Consortium for Graduate Degrees for Minorities in Engineering and Science, Inc (GEM). Juniors, seniors and graduate students ...
|Joint Degree Opportunities
|Students may jointly earn a bachelor's degree from Boston College and a bachelor's degree from the Boston University College of Engineering in aerospace, biomedical, computer, electrical, ...
|Joyous and William Van Buskirk Scholarship
|This scholarship is awarded to students in good academic standing.
|Kasie Capling Memorial Scholarship
|honors the memory of Kasie Capling, a Charlotte NCTA WISE (North Carolina Technology Association Women in Information Science and Engineering) steering committee member who unexpectedly ...
|$1,000 Learn to Build an App Scholarship
|Sponsored: This contest is jointly sponsored by Salesforce.com. Monthly winners will be chosen based on their responses to the questions provided on the online application, as well as how many learning modules are completed. Checks will be sent to either the winner's college or student loan lender.
|Medtronic Scholars Program
|This scholarship will be awarded to graduate students in Biomedical Engineering who are focusing on areas of relevance to Medtronic's mission. Preference is given to under-represented ...
|National Science Foundation Engineering Technology Award-Biomedical
|This scholarship is based on financial need and awarded to students with good academic standing majoring in Biomedical Engineering Technology.
|National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship Program
|The NSF awards fund up to 3 years of graduate studies leading to research-based advanced degrees in science, mathematics, and engineering. College seniors and first-year graduate students who ...
|Outstanding Graduate Student in Biomedical Engineering Award
|The Outstanding Graduate Student in Biomedical Engineering Award was created to annually recognize a student whose academic and professional performance can serve as a model for their peers. ...
|Outstanding Undergraduate Students in Biomedical Engineering Award
|Faculty in the Department of Biomedical Engineering established The Outstanding Undergraduate Student in Biomedical Engineering Award to annually recognize students whose academic performance
|$2,000 "No Essay" Scholarship - Niche
|Sponsored: Open to all students and those planning on enrolling within 12 months. The monthly winner will be determined by random drawing.
|Politecnico di Milano Scholarship
|40 scholarships covering accommodation and tuition are available for various programs on our Milano campuses, including Master of Science programs in Architecture, Urban Planning, ...
|Robert Avon Smith Summer Research Fellowship
|Awarded to students in the sciences or engineering who participate in a summer research program in biomedical engineering under the guidance of College faculty.
|Snyder, Donald & Velsie Chemical Engineering Scholarship
|This scholarship is awarded to students with high academics.
|Summer Bridge Assistance NSBE Jr. Award
|This award is available to NSBE Jr. members who will graduate from high school this year, and will enroll in a University Engineering Program in the Fall. In order to be eligible for the ...
|Texas Alliance for Minorities in Engineering Scholarships
|Students who meet the following criteria are invited to apply. Applicants must: Regularly participate in a registered TAME club Be currently enrolled in high-school and scheduled to ...
|CollegeWeekLive Monthly $1,000 Scholarship
|Sponsored: Just register at CollegeWeekLive, search for colleges of interest to you - and you could win $1,000! And because we don't want to take a lot of time away from your college search, entry takes just a few minutes.
|The Healthcare Foundation of New Jersey
|Established to support talented Newark or Essex County area students pursuing health careers. Health related careers are broadly defined to include biology, pre-medicine, nursing social work,
|The Weinig Foundation Undergraduate Scholarships
|The Weinig Scholars Program provides five to six $3,000 scholarships each year to meritorious junior or senior students in any one of the College's programs: Applied Mathematics and ...
|Thermo Scientific Pierce Scholarship Program
|The Thermo Scientific Pierce Scholarship Program for the Fall semester includes two (2) $10,000 scholarships and four (4) $5,000 scholarships, to be awarded to undergraduate and graduate ...
|W & N Foundation Scholarship
|Department of Bioresource Engineering award granted to a deserving student majoring in bioresource engineering, based on academic performance.
|Whitaker International Fellows and Scholars Program
|Fellowships and Scholarships for U.S-based biomedical engineers early in their careers to conduct an overseas project (which may be study-based) in biomedical engineering Have a bachelors or ...
|$1,000 I am Applying Scholarship
|Sponsored: Just tell us that you are Applying for Scholarships. Open to High School Students, adults looking to head back to school, current college students and anyone else looking to attend college or graduate school within 12 months.
|Women in Technology
|We've launched a $1,000 scholarship for female students with groundbreaking sustainable ideas to revolutionize the technology sector. If you have a groundbreaking idea for the technology ...


text:
November 28, 2014
A trust fund has been established for the family of Dallas Cowboys scouting assistant Rich Behm, who was paralyzed from the waist down when the team's indoor practice facility collapsed during a thunderstorm.
The Cowboys said in a news release that Bank of America, in conjunction with the Cowboys, would accept donations on behalf of the 33-year-old Behm and his family. Checks can be made payable to the Rich Behm Family Trust Fund at any Bank of America location.
Cowboys spokesman Rich Dalrymple said the team had received a number of calls from people wanting to know how they could help the
Behm family.
Special teams coach Joe DeCamillis and assistant athletic trainer Greg Gaither were also injured in Saturday's collapse. Both were expected to be released from the hospital this week after undergoing surgery.
Copyright 2014 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Click Here to access the online Public Inspection File
Viewers with disabilities can get assistance accessing this station's FCC Public Inspection File by contacting the station with the information listed below. Questions or concerns relating to the accessibility of the FCC's online public file system should be directed to the FCC at 888-225-5322, 888-835-5322 (TTY), or firstname.lastname@example.com.


text: Obama: Voting 'Best Revenge' Against Romney Print article Send a Tip by John Nolte 2 Nov 2012 post a comment As is often the case when he goes off-teleprompter, at a campaign stop in Ohio today, Obama revealed a side of himself we haven't seen since Hurricane Sandy gave him the opportunity to play The American President for a few days. The old Divider-In-Chief returned with a vengeance when in the middle of an attack on Mitt Romney he told a crowd at a campaign rally to stop booing and, " Vote! Voting's the best revenge!" What he obviously meant was that voting is the best revenge against Mitt Romney. What kind of divisive, ugly rhetoric is this coming from a sitting president? It's easy to sympathize with the fact that Obama's record gives few reasons for anyone to vote for him; and that for that reason, he's been forced to attempt to destroy his opponent with a half-billion dollars in negative ads -- but now the President of the United States is publicly telling a crowd of Americans to vote for revenge. And not just revenge, but revenge against another American. But what else are we to expect from apresident who spent weeks on binders, Big Bird, birth control, and bull shit -- the president whose surrogates have used the word "felon" to describe Romney and accused him of murder? This behavior isn't just unpresdiential, it's un-American. Follow John Nolte on Twitter @NolteNC ON BREITBART TV Obama: 'Voting Is The Best Revenge'


text:
Patrick Steffen: You are currently preparing an exhibition at Honor Fraser Gallery, opening on the 8th of September 2012. Let's start with the title, freedom is a prime number... Sarah Cain: I gather the words around my work like materials, they will come to me out of daily life and then if I'm interested I'll push it further. I lifted this sentence from the novel The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano. It captures the essence of great art and also speaks to how crucial it is to stay loyal to an undividable truth or freedom, to never compromise the work. There is another reference to him in a title of a painting, named after the title of his manifesto, abandon everything, again. This is how I approach each painting and possibly life in general. I felt those words immediately but then like most words I'm attracted to, after reading his manifesto I was struck by so many similar feelings…
Patrick Steffen: You are currently preparing an exhibition at Honor Fraser Gallery, opening on the 8th of September 2012. Let's start with the title, freedom is a prime number...
Sarah Cain: I gather the words around my work like materials, they will come to me out of daily life and then if I'm interested I'll push it further. I lifted this sentence from the novel The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano. It captures the essence of great art and also speaks to how crucial it is to stay loyal to an undividable truth or freedom, to never compromise the work. There is another reference to him in a title of a painting, named after the title of his manifesto, abandon everything, again. This is how I approach each painting and possibly life in general. I felt those words immediately but then like most words I'm attracted to, after reading his manifesto I was struck by so many similar feelings…
Sarah Cain, carnival cruise, 2012. Beads, thread, plastic bags, gouache, acrylic and silver leaf on canvas, 62 x 48 x 7 1/2 inches. Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: Talking about your practice as a painter, one has the tendency to put the emphasis on colors, as has been done, for instance, in the beautiful recent monograph Sarah Cain, published by LAND (Los Angeles Nomadic Division). I'd like to shift the emphasis onto words. I think words are essential in your work.
SC: I paint through ideas and feelings I'm incapable of speaking through. I relate strongly to poets and musicians and how they use words. I'm most at home when language becomes lyrical, abstracted, opened up, or when it takes on multiple meanings. I use words a bit like a navigating index. They reference where I was when I made the work, who I was sharing my life with, what I was reading, listening to or thinking about. Tara McDowell and Shamim M. Momin both talk a bit about language in their essays in the book you mentioned, but someone should probably write about it in more depth. The curator Sarah Bancroft recently paired me with George Herms for the show Two Schools of Cool at the Orange County Museum of Art, largely because of our relationship to and over language. When I think of George and our similarities it makes me realize that I'm a collagist with words. Sometimes I just hear words, the same way I see color or form. I write poems and those come to me in a way very similar to how a painting will.
Sarah Cain, hipsters in the hood, 2012. Acrylic, gouache, string, paint roller and screws on canvas and wall. 87 x 48 x 4 1/2 inches. Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: The physicality of your paintings is often enhanced by many small personal objects — feathers, pebbles, etc. — that you constantly add, as if your paintings would become a sort of contemporary shrine. What do these objects mean to you?
SC: They mean all types of things to me, but some of them hold onto a feeling, it lingers around them and those are the objects I'm most attracted to. The shrine-like parts of my site works are personal. A lot the objects are gifts, or found and held onto for years. They speak about my own life but also the subcultures I've traveled through. I think of them a bit like diary entries. In the beginning it was protection related and a means to infuse the white cube with a poetic personal meaning. In my home I'm constantly making little groups of objects. Organizing memories, emotions, visuals and colors keeps me balanced and helps me gather or clear my thoughts.
Sarah Cain, Mister, 2012. Acrylic, canvas and sticks on canvas 89 x 74 1/4 x 7 inches. Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: How do you start including these objects into your installation?
SC: I take down the groupings in my home and bring them to the site. Last year there were probably about 50 objects tucked into the seams of my shows. To give you an idea of the range, one inclusion was an inspirational magazine clipping about Werner Herzog and an "experimental archaeologist" from his Cave of Forgotten Dreams. In another one I put this crazy canvas with a big braid of my hair, which was more of a wildcard. An art girl who cuts off all her hair and then shows it in a museum is very funny to me. Hair is powerful and should never be for sale. It is also weird and sort of creepy in a way that art needs to remember to be. One installation had a wedding ring in it, that someone gave me but didn't give me. It was the classic set up for a proposal but then it wasn't a proposal. I think I included that one for multiple reasons, but one was just hoping it would disappear. I like that you see these objects; I think the majority of the viewers miss most of those moments. In a way they are a bonus for being a sensitive viewer. My all time favorite find that I'm hoping to use in the next install is this big chunk of bark I found peeling off of a tree deep in the Angeles National Forest. It has a heart carved into it with initials and a date from the 1980s. The way the bark peeled off the tree made a split down the heart, like the tree knew when the couple broke up. It's so beautiful and sad at the same time.
Sarah Cain, falling, 2012. Acrylic, silver leaf and feathers on canvas 104 x 72 inches Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: You said, "It's so beautiful and sad at the same time." Are you attempting to portray the complexity of the impossibility of a relationship through your work?
SC: There are moments of that in my work, even in the materials I work in, but the practice is about much more as well. I've made plenty of paintings about very successful relationships, or paintings that act as homage to people or places. If I have to make a blanket statement about my paintings, I think they are about the collision of various forms of space: physical, emotional and psychic. The work is a translation of life, and life takes time, like art, to fully seep in. I'm constantly realizing new meanings to pieces. I also don't claim to have control over them. The work tells me how to make it. It's a joke for me to set out trying to do a painting about this or that, as I need the piece to get lost before it is found. I also embrace failure as a concept, on many levels, but most basically in the way that one needs to take risks to make great work. If you don't allow the potential for failure I don't know how growth is possible.
Sarah Cain, We are here we are heavy we are color, 2012 Acrylic, ink and thread on canvas, 92 x 56 inches Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: I'm interested in your idea of disappearing through art.
SC: Years ago I made a book in two parts. The first was called Writings too personal to be called poetry and the second was I disappear. I think that title points to how disappearance occurs in my practice. It's a way of starting with a very personal subject and transcending it or disappearing the individual until the work exists in a universal state. Painting makes life much more manageable. I paint about a lot of big questions that I can't answer. The work constantly comes back to the unavoidable disappearance of oneself. The irony is I have already made so many objects that by the time I'm no longer here there will be so many things I've made left behind. But then again a large part of my practice is ephemeral, so vanishing is innate to the way I work. I also use a lot of quasi-magical moves in my practice. The hope of the ring disappearing was a mental trick that was as much about belief as it was disappearance. As well as about asking what happens when something you believed in disappears. Where are you left after that? Should we trust disappearance more than existence?
Sarah Cain, Yoni Wolf, 2012. Cardboard, acrylic, stick and string on canvas, 69 3/4 x 48 x 3 1/2 inches Image courtesy of Honor Fraser Gallery, Photo by Josh White
PS: You told me that you listen to hip hop in your studio. How does it nourish and influence your daily practice?
SC: I listen to lots of things but I basically made my September show listening to Jay-Z & Kayne West's Watch the Throne album. I'd rather be in Jay-Z & Beyonce's collection than most museums. I've been pretty obsessed with Lil Wayne's Tha Carter IV too. The neighborhood I live in can get super intense, so I think that's part of why the music occupies my head space. But also it is just really good. I started listening to hip hop out of necessity, like most of my materials; when I had a studio in the SF Bay Area that was the only radio station that worked. I love the coded use of words, how the songs reference each other, the boldness, rhythms and the energy behind the songs. There's this grandiose toughness paired with the confessional in a lot of hip hop that I love. I also relate to how explicitly and humorously it can deal with sex. I'm obviously by no means an expert; I'm a white girl from upstate New York. But music drastically helps extend my studio hours. In order to get into the zone I need to mute everyone around me and dissolve all my thoughts, and music speeds that process up.
PS: It's an intense moment in your career. As you just said, in your practice, you never compromise the work. Let's talk about the hypothetical conflict that you are experiencing dealing with the commercial world of art.
SC: I've been in the commercial art world and showing nonstop for a while now. I've found ways, sometimes by making paintings, to work through conflicted feelings. I also eliminate many potential issues by working with good people. I came into the commercial art world towards the end of the market boom. I'm glad I wasn't a couple of years earlier, as it created a false sense and I'm thankful to still be working all the time. I guess asking about conflicts and the commercial art world makes me think mostly about class, money and value. As far as the market goes I don't cater to it; I don't believe artists should.
PS: Everybody's toolbox, an open source collective focused on performing arts, suggests to realize self-interviews. What is the perfect question you would choose for yourself? And the answer?
SC: What are you excited about right now? Swimming in waterfalls, afternoons reading in bed, dark chocolate & iced tea, Hélàne Cixous, Beatrice Woods, imaginepeace.com, women. Friend's art: Allison Miller, Rebecca Morris, Jeni Spota, Kim Fisher, Ry Rocklyn, Katie Grinnan and Colter Jacobsen. LAND (Los Angeles Nomadic Division), Night Gallery, Public Fiction. Friend's music: HECUBA, Bouquet, Matteah Baim, Hush Hush, Yoni Wolf, Destroyer and Brendan Fowler. This Hélène Cixous quote: "I call a poet any writing being who sets out on this path, in quest of what I call the second innocence, the one that comes after knowing, the one that no longer knows, the one that knows how not to know."
Patrick Steffen is Flash Art Los Angeles Editor.
Sarah Cain was born in 1979 in Albany, NY. She lives and works in Los Angeles. Her work has been included in exhibitions at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, San Francisco, CA; the Orange County Museum of Art, Newport Beach, CA; the Berkeley Art Museum, Berkeley, CA; the Aspen Art Museum, Aspen, CO; and the Imperial Belvedere Palace Museum, Vienna, Austria, among other national and international institutions. Cain's work was also included in "A Tale of Two Cities: Busan-Seoul/Seoul-Busan," Busan Biennale 2006, Busan, Korea; the 2008 California Biennial at the Orange County Museum of Art, Newport Beach, CA; and "Made in LA 2012," the first Los Angeles Biennial organized by the Hammer Museum in collaboration with LAXART, Los Angeles, CA. In 2006, she received the SECA Art Award from the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Sarah Cain, the artist's first monograph, was recently published by LAND (Los Angeles Nomadic Division), July 2012.


text:
Sponsors needed for the Hart Hoopsters Booster Club's Golf tournament.
On December 6, the Hart Hoopsters Booster Club is having a "Hart Hoop Golf Tournament" at the Valencia Country Club, to raise money for the boys & girls basketball programs at Hart High. The entry fee for a foursome is $1000. Anyone (or a foursome) who might be interested should contact Robin Strickland 799-0808 or David Hartmire, 799-7940.


text:
We are currently undergoing an extensive redesign of our website giving our customers better usability and a fresh look.
More info »
When you come to Moors, whether it be for a single treatment or to relax for a whole day of pampering, we will offer you the ultimate experience and choice of Health and Beauty treatments. Moors' Salons are a place where you can switch off and escape from the outside world and stresses of everyday life and enter a world of total relaxation and inner calm.
Follow our updates on Twitter
Email: email@example.com
Phone: Clacton: 01255 434366
Phone: Colchester: 01206 562001
Clacton on Sea Salon
76 Pier Avenue, Clacton-on-Sea, Essex, CO15 1NH
Colchester Salon
27 Head Street, Colchester, Essex, CO1 1NH


text:
January 28, 2014 § 30 Comments
The number forty is highly significant across all traditional faiths and esoteric philosophies. It symbolizes change – coming through a struggle and emerging on the other side more enlightened because of the experience. – Dr. Habib Sadeghi
Usually, I begin my yoga classes with child's pose or a simple seated meditation, but really, meditation is too strong of a word. We breathe in. We breathe out. And inevitably, a Marine in the back of the class is trying so hard not to laugh out loud that he is silently shaking. Usually, I have to close my own eyes and press my lips together so that I don't start laughing myself.
It's always a bit awkward in the beginning when I'm asking them to come into cat cow pose and then downward facing dog. Some people are looking around and vigilance pulls up the chins of others. No one is breathing and you can feel the tension rising off bodies like steam.
Then I ask them to come into plank pose, and like magic, all the giggling stops. After about ten seconds in plank, the vibrations in the room begin to settle. After thirty seconds, the disparate streams of energy begin to gather. After a minute, the quiet comes down like a curtain falling.
I don't have them hold plank to prove anything, or even to quiet the laughter. There is something so familiar about that pose for Marines and athletes – something almost comforting about being in a high push-up. And yet there is something else about plank that gets right to the heart of our own vulnerability. Maybe it's that our pelvis wants to collapse in a way that would showcase our weakness. Maybe it's that plank pose demands us to soften the space behind our hearts. Or maybe it's the quiet of the pose itself, the stillness required to hold ourselves straight and stare at a single spot on the floor.
After plank pose, it's different in the room. I can say inhale and 30 sets of lungs breathe in. I can say exhale and 30 sets of lungs breathe out. I can place my hands on someone's shoulders and they no longer want to flinch.
It was my birthday this week and I have been thinking an awful lot about vulnerability. 41 is a year that lacks the spunk of the thirties but also the dire nature of that four-oh milestone. 41 is not yet old but definitely no longer young. 41 is a bit like jumping into the shallow end of a freezing cold pool and hopping up and down, your arms over your head. 41 is about being in it but just barely. It's about stopping by the mirror and knowing that you still look much the same as you did at 20, but undeniably, your skin is thinner and creased. What is left may look the same, but it's only a veneer of who you used to be, and soon that will be gone too, and the true self – the real face that reveals our own creased and softened souls – will emerge.
41 feels a lot like being in plank pose.
Most of my fortieth year was spent on my back, staring up at the clouds that seemed to be rushing by too quickly. Last winter, I woke up in the cold sweat of panic attacks and during this past summer, I couldn't sleep. 40 required waking up to the fact that I was living in a way that was not sustainable, that I couldn't forego rest anymore in the name of getting things done, that I needed to stop saying yes when I meant no, and that I desperately wanted to stop asking for permission. Chocolate and wine were no longer staving off that terrifying feeling of fragility, and the warning hum underneath was becoming so loud I felt a little crazy. Last year, a line from Hamlet wove its way into my days: I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
For 39 years, what I wanted more than anything was to be tough. I would rather be angry later than vulnerable now. It's easier to be the master of my own fate than to place it into someone else's palm and close their fingers around those thin shards of glass. I had thought that toughness would scare the fear away. But it turns out that fear stays anyway and makes you want to giggle. It makes you want to yell or run or it wakes you up in the middle of the night and squeezes at your heart.
People talk about vulnerability now as this great thing and I suppose it is. But what they don't often tell you is that one part of vulnerability is to take a good and honest look at yourself, which feels a bit like sticking your head into the mouth of a monster. Asking the questions is only one part of the equation. It's sitting still with the answers that's the kicker. There is the way that I think I am in the world, and then there is the way I actually am.
Sometimes I wonder how on earth I became certified to teach yoga. Of all the experiences in my life, teaching renders me the most vulnerable. It feels like taking off my skin. Before each class I feel like Hanuman, when he ripped open his chest to show Ram his devotion. Ram, Ram, Ram beat his heart.
I am working with Rolf Gates on my 500 hour teacher training, and in our last meeting via Skype I shared some of my challenges with teaching, mostly, that I don't feel I am up to the task. Rolf laughed after I was finished and said,"Welcome to your first ten years teaching yoga," which I found oddly comforting. He could have easily been saying, Welcome to your forties. And then he told me that teaching is like pointing at the moon. What's important, he said, is that our students understand the moon.
The way I see it, there is no way to understand the moon without first standing alone in the dark. There is no way to understand anything unless you pay attention to the way it waxes and wanes, to the way it turns its back to you or slips behind a cloud. The glow and the radiance: it's only a fraction of what it really is.
About three years ago, I wrote that I felt as if I was on the precipice of something, but couldn't see far enough down to know what it was. Now, I see that what I was gazing into was the mysterious space that houses our hearts. That my task is to simply crouch in the doorway and pay attention to the storm, to the call of the wind and the violent lashing of the branches. My job at 41 is to sit in the eye of the hurricane, rip open my heart, and listen.
June 11, 2012 § 21 Comments
"No Meg, don't hope it was a dream. I don't understand it any more than you do, but one thing I've learned is that you don't have to understand things for them to be." – from A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle.
Jacksonville feels like a stain. It looks as dirty and tired as a bar after last call. We are staying in an extended stay hotel on Western Boulevard, the main business route, which is an aggregate of Old Navys and Olive Gardens, Walmarts and Wendy's. The air smells like fried chicken and cigarette smoke and the sunlight bounces off all that asphalt. At night, shadowy packs of boys walk along the strip, their jeans low on their hips. Yesterday, I went to the grocery store and a man in a wife beater and flip flops leered at me. He parked his cart by the shelves of raw chicken thighs and made comments at women who walked by him. I turned sharply into the aisle with the detergent and held a box of Downey sheets up to my nose wondering how I ever could have complained about Washington, DC.
We will probably be staying at the Hilton Home2 until the beginning of August, when a house will be available for us on base. On the first floor of the hotel, a fitness center with a television is adjacent to a laundry room. Twice, I let the boys watch Disney Junior while I used the elliptical machine and slipped quarters into the washing machine. On Thursday, I struck up a conversation with another mother of two boys who is staying at the hotel because her house burned down last month. Marines in camouflage come out of other rooms on our floor, and from behind closed doors, I hear Southern accents and babies crying. I smell food being microwaved and Ramen noodles cooking. The night we arrived here, I had a quiet meltdown – conscious of the thin walls and my sleeping boys – thinking that at 39, I am too old to be living in a place that smells like someone else's dinner. What was the point of the college degrees and all that striving? I thought back to another hotel room eight years ago in San Francisco. I was up all night helping the president of my company write her presentation and at five in the morning, I staggered off to Kinkos with it, thinking that finally, I was on my way. I would never in a million years have believed that I was on my way here to a town overflowing with soldiers.
Each place I have lived during the last six years has taught me something. In Philadelphia, Oliver was born, ironically, two hours from the town I drove 3000 miles away from when I was 21. In San Diego, I learned how to be an adult, a mother, and a wife. In Ventura, I was taught how to trust my heart and to believe in goodness. Washington DC taught me how to be alone and then how to be with people. I spent a year with this guy:
And despite being so lonely for my first year there, things like this began to happen:
Tonight I went for a walk along Western Boulevard, a four-lane highway with sidewalks but no crosswalks. After a while, my walk began to feel like a game of chicken with the pickup trucks and I started back to the hotel. I passed by Ruby Tuesday and the House of Pain tattoo parlor, Food Lion, and a dilapidated barber shop. Even though it was nine at night, a couple with a small child was going into Hooters. I wondered briefly if I should be afraid and then decided I shouldn't. I figured I could outrun an attacker, and if I couldn't, I would put up a good fight.
Coming towards me was a group of young Marines. Maybe I wasn't as different from them as I thought. I too am the kind of person who would fight to the death to protect myself, and as they approached, I realized I am ashamed of this. The boys looked so innocent as they walked by me, so young. I wondered if they signed up to serve and protect and if they were surprised when they found out what was asked of them. Or maybe they weren't. When I looked up, one of them said hello with a smile that lit up his face. And then they all looked at me for an instant, their faces lovely with youth.
I thought about how complicated it is to serve, how the word protect sometimes also means kill and how much that bothers me. I thought that some of those young boys might be headed off to a war I despise while others might build a school somewhere or save a child. They would all be trained to shoot and a few might have to pull the trigger when it counted. I thought about how much I hate being part of the military, how paying the cashier at the market sometimes feels like handing over blood money. And I thought of how proud I am that my gentle husband is a part of the same organization I hate, because he has watched over his own share of young men with such devotion. How contradictory it is to protect a freedom, how much freedom is taken away to accomplish that, how the choice to serve takes away so many other choices.
And then I thought about the first Power Yoga class I took at Downdog Yoga in Georgetown. For the last six months, that studio has served and protected me, which I never would have thought possible after that initial class, which I wasn't sure I could even finish. On that morning, last July 4th, as we celebrated freedom, I was trapped in my own thoughts of how thirsty and tired and miserable I was. "I'm so hot," my mind kept saying. ImsohotImsohotImsohot.
Gradually – and despite my best efforts not to – I fell in love with Power Yoga and began to practice at the Downdog studio four times a week, at least. On my second to last class there only six days ago, Kelly, who was teaching, told us that if we were uncomfortable, then we were in the right place. "That's what you've come for," she said. "To be uncomfortable and to see what's underneath."
As I finished my walk under the streetlights on a sidewalk that was still hot, I felt the same way I did in that first yoga class in Georgetown. I don't want to know what's underneath. I don't want to see how I judge, how I hate, how I break every yogic value I strive for. I want to know why I am here in this strange town near the ocean. I want meaning and reason. I want validation that I am in the right place.
But the night gives me nothing other than the smell of fried chicken and hot concrete, the sound of my own sharp panic and stale discomfort. And maybe this is why I am here: to be uncomfortable. To crack off another layer. To cleanse myself here, in this city that looks toxic and not a single bit lovely in the dark.
December 17, 2011 § 22 Comments
"Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift."
― Mary Oliver
Gopi read us this quote before a yoga class this October during an unseasonable cold snap. I didn't really want to be a yoga that night as I was fighting a cold and I was feeling tired and maybe a little depressed that already it was beginning to feel like winter. On that October night, Gopi explained that she was in the midst of celebrating the feast Duwali, or the Hindu festival of lights, which involves lighting oil lamps to signify the triumph of good over evil.
I have been wanting to write this post for a while, but in the last few months, my writing has been stuck. Although I started this blog as a way to write freely, my tendency towards perfectionism is even creeping into these hallowed grounds. This morning, I had the humongous pleasure of getting to meet Jena Strong of Bullseye Baby. We went for a run from Old Town (Alexandria) and finished with omelettes at Pain Quotidian. "Just give yourself permission to write and don't even reread it," she told me. "Liberate yourself from wanting it to be good."
Last winter, I decided I wanted to explore my own darkness, which, let me tell you, is not something I advise. It's like asking for patience. Or tolerance. Ask for those things and you are guaranteed to have a difficult day. And last winter was difficult. The most vivid memory from last winter is of the grey view from my kitchen window as I stood there, waiting for the water to boil, watching the clock crawl from 2:23 to 2:24, hoping that the boys could play together without shrieking before I finished measuring the tea. Last winter was interminable. Picking my way through my own darkness was like turning the knob of a closet that hadn't been opened in 38 years. It wasn't pretty.
But then again, the monsters that I expected never appeared. I was afraid I would find a nest of beady-eyed rats or a never ending abyss of blackness, but all that was there was dust. There were cobwebs and a view of the world that was no longer accurate. There were old stories and beliefs about myself that had never been true to begin with.
This October, when Gopi read Mary Oliver's words, I realized that what I had given myself last winter was a gift. When you sweep out the closets, you discover what you packed away in boxes so many years ago. I had to get my hands dirty but it is clear to me now that an excavation took place. What I discovered last winter was that the darkness in my life was of my own making, and if it was of my own making, it could be of my own dismantling as well.
I wish I could say that what rushed in to fill the void darkness left was golden light thick as honey, but that was not the case. Instead, what stood in the closet of my heart was emptiness. Space. A clean sense of nothing, which turned out to be as scary as the blackness.
This October, I suffered from a rather acute case of anxiety, strong enough that Scott gently suggested I go to the doctor. Instead, I called up Laura Plumb, my former yoga teacher in San Diego and an Ayurvedic practitioner. I told Laura that I constantly felt the need to outrun whatever was chasing me, that I woke up at 4:30 in the morning with a racing heart, that I was afraid of something that had no name.
Laura explained that this was a very autumnal feeling, that October was a season of falling away and of letting go of what not longer serves us.
"It's clear," I told her, "That my anxiety is no longer serving me, but I don't know how to be without it."
"Well," Laura said, in her voice, which always reminds me of bells ringing, "We can let go and know there doesn't need to be the next thing yet. We can stand in our own emptiness."
I get through each day by trying hard: to be a good mother, to keep the house clean, to keep up my spiritual practice, to nurture those around me. It's as though I believe that things happen because I exert enough force. It's as though I believe if I worry enough, the disasters will stay away. My anxiety is my talisman, warding away the suckerpunch that will inevitably happen as soon as I let my guard down.
I don't know how to stand in my own emptiness. My existential fear of emptiness is perhaps what underlies all of my fears: If I let go, the next thing will never come. If I stand still, I will be left behind.
Laura reminded me of the trees. "They lose all their leaves," she told me, "They stand bare all winter and trust that spring will come."
This winter, I have no need to explore the darkness. This winter, I am standing in what Hemingway called, "the clean well-lighted place" (there are shadows of the leaves). I am going to practice trusting that the next thing will come: that the next word will appear, that the next idea will organically arise, that the earth will keep spinning even though I have stopped swatting at it with my hand. This winter I am lighting a clay lamp and admiring how clean the emptiness is, how ready it is for something beautiful. This winter, I will see what it means to belong to myself completely and have faith in my own human heart. In the words of Jena, I am liberating myself from wanting it to be good, I am liberating myself from wanting it to be anything other than what it is: this barren landscape, these empty trees, this waiting space.
As an aside I just want to mention what a fabulous time it was to meet Jena, whom I have only previously known here, in this alternative online universe. She emailed me yesterday to ask if I could bring an extra fleece for her to run in as she packed light. When she rummaged through the bag of clothes I brought for her this morning, she said, "Ooohh, I LOVE your wardrobe." Ahhh, I thought, someone who appreciates my workout clothes: the jewels of my closet. We had such a fun run on this cold grey day, where the sun barely made it over the hills, except for one slim ray that pierced the Potomac. We had such a luxuriously long breakfast and I learned so much from this beautiful, wise woman. At Pain Quotidian, we ran into someone I know from the yoga studio and he assumed we were old college buds. This warmed my heart. Because while my tenure in DC has been lonely, this space here has been rich. To know that the people I meet here translate into friends in real life is the best Christmas gift I could receive. I am so grateful to this space and to my new, real-life friend Jena. Check out her blog at Bullseye Baby.
November 22, 2011 § 23 Comments
For weeks I have been trying to write just one single post. I have filled up WordPress windows, Word documents, and notebook pages and still have nothing to show for it. A few days ago I threw in the towel and focused on other things. Right now, in addition to working towards my 200 hour yoga teaching certification, I am taking Rolf Gates' online "The Chakras as Life's Roadmap," which has opened my life up in ways I didn't believe an online course could do.
Last week, we were talking about the heart chakra and since then, I have been aware of the ways I refuse to commit to both myself and my spiritual practice. I have integrity, but only until my breaking point. I love but only until it becomes too difficult. I give, but only to people I believe are deserving. I have committed to yoga, but only up to my edge and no further.
My response to this observation was to exercise more. Last week I ran more miles than I have in months. I went to the yoga studio four times, including to a hot power yoga class, which I swear would have turned Baron Baptiste himself into a whimpering puddle of sweat. On Saturday, when I was so sore I could barely walk, I realized that this body of mine, the one I have vilified for so long is truly my greatest teacher. Maybe that is why this chakra class is so powerful for me because the physical realm is the world in which I learn the most. Make me sprint for five kilometers and I will finally tell you what is bothering me. Tell me to hold Warrior II for two minutes and the bricks I am mortaring around my heart will start to crumble. Push me to my physical edge and I will start to understand my emotional edge as well.
On Sunday morning, my quads were still as shaky and unresponsive as they were the previous afternoon and I was seriously reconsidering the trail race I had signed up for that morning. A few months ago I signed up for the entire five-mile Backyard Burn Trail Running series because they are fun and I love running in the woods, but on Sunday, the prospect of dodging tree roots and sloshing through streams sounded about as pleasant as another power yoga class. "Just do it for fun," Scott told me and I glared at him.
I ended up going, mostly because Scott told me to. I drove the thirty minutes out to Fountainhead Regional Park although I wasn't sure why. I was too tired to push myself, to do my best, and I didn't know any other way to approach a race. Why show up if I wasn't going to show up fully? Why race if I didn't want to win?
I started in the back of the pack this time, unlike the day in October when I sprained my ankle. When the air horn blew announcing the start of the race, I was surrounded by men in bandanas who looked like former football players and women who carried small bottles of Evian and asked if it was okay to walk part of the course. As we headed up the road towards the woods, we began to fall in line in preparation for the trail. As the road turned into a rocky, root-studded single track, we were running single file, in silence. I listened to the sound of our feet thudding against the ground, and a feeling came over me, so strongly that I wanted to lie down and rest my head against a bed of moss. Instead, I struggled for a word that would describe what this was, this endless line of bodies heading into the woods for no other reason than because they said they would.
No, I thought, pushing that word away. This snaking line of runners wearing breathable fabrics was nothing like the processions of my youth in St. Columba Church. This colorful parade moving toward the finish line was nothing like the solemn walk to the alter to receive a stale wafer. And yet, what were we doing if not moving toward something sacred? What was this if not an agreement to meet somewhere together and pray? I haven't been to Mass in years, but a vague passage from the Gospel of Matthew popped into my head: "For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them."
The race was put on my Ex2, a fabulous group of people, who had even come out the day before the race to blow the leaves from the single-track trail so we wouldn't kill ourselves on the roots or the precipitously steep downhills that seemed to be made solely of rock and moss. As I ran and listened to our breathing and our footfalls, I noticed another, occasional sound of someone swishing through the leaves on the side of the trail.
Swish, swish, swish.
"On your left."
"Go for it."
What I began to notice was that the swishings were never isolated. Someone would pass someone and almost immediately after, someone else would enter the leaves. Then another. A runner about five people ahead of me passed someone and I felt the need to pass the person ahead of me.
Swish, swish, swish.
"Passing on the right."
"Go getem."
"You too."
Instead of being competitive, it was lovely. Here, we were saying to each other, I'll take over for a while. It was so small this sound, this decision to leave the trail and enter into something new, but it was powerful. It inspired people. As I ran, Big Little Wolf's recent post popped into my head. Her post from the day before inspired me with her adament support of Ashley Quiñones, who, at 31 needs a new kidney in order to live for another decade. Medicaid – Ashley's only insurer – will not fund the necessary surgery, which is estimated at $250,000.
"I think most people have good hearts," Big Little Wolf said in an email to me, which I read just an hour before the race. "The world is just so damned overwhelming, we don't know what to do, how to help. So – one at a time, right?"
One at a time we jump into the leaves. One at a time we run through the woods. One at a time, we cross the finish line.
Right before the finish line, as I came out of the woods, I saw Scott and the boys, sitting in the grass and I was so thrilled to see my tribe that I felt lit up inside. Oliver shyly clapped and Gus was smacking his hands together so hard I worried about his little palms. Scott took a photo of me (see above) and while I usually hate every picture taken of myself, I kept this one because I remember what that was like, to come out of the woods and see this overwhelming, overflowing, heartbreaking love.
Most times, right after the race I take off before the awards ceremony because I have better things to do than stand around and see if I won a pint glass. Scott has won so many in his mountain bike races that they keep falling out of our cabinets. On Sunday though, after Scott told me I won my age group, the boys wanted to stay and go up to the podium with me. Right after that, the race director announced that they were going to give away iPODs and two, hundred dollar bills. Scott, who knows I never win anything, got the boys ready for a mountain bike ride in the woods, and I think I surprised him my telling him I was staying for the giveaway. "I'm feeling lucky," I told him. "And I never feel lucky."
Ten minutes later, when my name was called out as the winner of a crisp, new, hundred-dollar bill, I was not surprised. "You're so calm," Jim, the race director told me. "You're so quiet."
Instead of telling Jim I knew I was going to win, I smiled and said thank you and took the money.
Big Little Wolf asked us to come up with a five-year plan in honor of Ashley but I don't do five-year plans anymore. I used to live according to plans and training schedules and goals, but then I married someone in the Navy and started moving every eighteen months to two years. I learned to let go of plans. My five-year plan is for my family to still be alive and healthy and as happy as we are now. My five-year plan is to not to plan but to live in the moment.
So, instead of a plan, Ashley can have my $100 dollar bill. For why else did I win it, me, who has never even won a game of bingo?
For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.
Someone up there is rooting for Ashley. Big Little Wolf swished through the leaves and then Kristen and then Aidan and Lindsey.To learn more about Ashley, click here.
Swish, swish, swish. Passing on the right.
Please take a moment and visit Big Little Wolf to learn about the important work she is doing to help raise money for a life-saving kidney transplant for Ashley Quiñones, aka the Kidney Cutie, aka the sister of Kelly Miller of The Miller Mix.
September 15, 2011 § 23 Comments
In my world, I'm standing just inside the door.
In my world, I'm speaking, to the ocean's roar.
Jackson Browne, "Time the Conqueror."
The beginning of September has flattened me. Literally. I am lying on the floor in pigeon pose and my yoga teacher, Gopi, is sitting on top of me, shouting at me in her British/Indian accent. "Thassit gurl. Get in thair." She sticks her elbow into my butt and I see stars. It takes all I have inside me not to cry. That's how everything has been lately; on top of me, all sharp elbows and painful edges.
I like to write blog posts when I have something figured out, at least to some degree. Right now, I have nothing figured out. Right now, I feel like I am wearing clothes that are both too big and too tight. It's been weeks since I have written anything at all.
Gopi is talking about change, which is obvious now in the weather and the red tinge on the leaves that hang over our living room window. Yesterday it was ninety-one degrees. Now it is fifty-one. After I picked Oliver up from kindergarten at noon today, I took the boys to the park to ride their bikes in the warm sunshine. This afternoon, at home, we watched the front blow in, cold air on a freight train straight from Canada. I have one east coast winter under my belt after 17 in California, and frankly, I am anxious about doing it again. We had a week of 100 degree temperatures in May and three in June and July. August was hot too. Until now, winter has seemed so far away. I want it to stay away. And I want it to be here already so I can stop worrying about it.
"What in your life," Gopi asks, " Is the catalyst for a heart revolution?"
On Labor Day weekend, the week before school started, Scott and I flew back to northern California for a wedding. We saw friends in Marin, San Francisco and on the Sonoma coast. We had pizza in Berkeley with my friend Stephanie and I got to hold her gorgeous 7-week old baby. We drank too much red wine with Scott's friends from college in a house overlooking the Pacific. We went to my friend Michelle's wedding and spent the whole time with my friend Loren and her wife Audra. Stephanie and Loren and Michelle were my cross-country and track teammates in college. They know me so well, even now, and I miss them. I miss what it was like to be together every day. I miss that.
The trip back from California to DC was hard – it always is. Something happens to me when I fly eastward over the Mississippi River. I contract. I become the smallest version of myself packed into the tightest bundle. I protect myself from what is inevitably coming. I try to ward off what has already happened.
Last weekend, during my yoga teacher training, something shifted and we all started to get it. Instead of sitting there, feeling confused, I felt close. I felt connected. Rolf talked a bit about our contracted states of fear, aversion, and jealousy. He said that when we move beyond our contracted states, we will realize that we needed each of them in order to arrive at this new, expansive place.
Tonight, Gopi is hell-bent on opening our hips. We do some crazy thing with our legs behind our heads. I am close, but my leg gets stuck somewhere by my pony tail and I can't get it under. We do some other terrifying move to open our hip flexors where only my left heel and the top of my right foot remain on the floor. Gopi makes us chant three Om's while we hold that pose. "Whatever you ease into eases up," she tells us. In that moment, I hate yoga.
For a long time now, I have felt as if I were on the precipice of something: transformation, change, growth. I don't know. It's nothing big, nothing earth shaking. Just something new. But I can't quite get there. It gets stopped, somewhere in my head. I get stuck, just inside the door.
Oliver started school last Thursday, during the rains that didn't stop. We stayed inside all week, and it felt like winter. Oliver doesn't like transitions so much. Like me, he tries to protect himself from what has already happened. Since school started, it's been one meltdown after another. It would be one thing if he walked in the door, threw down his blue race car backpack, and began to wail. Instead, it's more diffuse. Yesterday, he flung himself on the ground because I reversed the bath/dinner schedule. The day before, he stomped out of the room because I got him a new toothbrush. "I won't brush my teeth!" he yelled at Scott, "until I have a toothbrush with batteries in it."
Tonight in class I think about what in my life might be a catalyst for a heart revolution. Maybe it's my yoga teacher training. Or maybe it's Oliver's tantrums. Stay, I tell myself during the heart of them. Breathe. Sometimes I can. And sometimes I can't.
Next, Gopi has us doing heart opening poses. Our arms are entwined behind our backs and we bow forward into the geometry of devotion. Please, I think as my heart moves towards the floor. Please.
Last Sunday, I set an intention to keep my heart open, to stay in the moment and hold space for Oliver's transition. What happens is what always happens when I finally act like the grown up and do what I am supposed to do. Oliver stops yelling and starts crying. He asks for a hug with both arms. We bypass anger and move straight to the heart of his anxiety. What also happens is that I become exhausted from all that life being hurled straight at me. When I become a wellspring to my son, I become a drought to myself. I wonder if there is a way to bring the two together, to nourish both of us at the same time.
In our teacher training, Rolf told us to be the thing we loved. What would happen if I could remember the word devotion? What if I could become that?
Later in class, we do Hanumanasana or seated splits with one leg straight out in front. The pose is named after the Hindu monkey-god Hanuman, who devotes his life to the god Rama. When the demon king who presides over Sri Lanka abducts Rama's wife, Sita, Hanuman and Rama travel from India to Sri Lanka to rescue her. During the battle there, Rama's brother becomes wounded and to live, he requires an herb that only grows in the Himalayas.
Hanuman so loves Rama that he says he will accomplish this impossible task. With one foot still in Sri Lanka, he stretches himself all the way back to India. He can't find the herb, so he lifts up the entire mountain and carries it back to Sri Lanka, where Rama's brother is saved. Hanumanasana embodies Hanuman's devotion, each leg in a different country, arms high in the air, carrying a mountain.
I can never get into this pose all the way. Mostly I just hover, uncomfortably, suspended a few inches off the ground, my hands on the floor.
On Labor Day, on the way home from the wedding, I bought Gail Caldwell's book, Let's Take the Long Way Home in the San Francisco airport. The book is about Caldwell's experience of losing her best friend – Caroline Knapp, another of my favorite writers – to breast cancer at the age of 42. In the book, Caldwell writes, "I was in the corridor of something far larger than I, and I just had to stand it and stay where I was."
Tonight, I go into Hanumanasana the way I always do: I squeeze my front thigh and flex my front foot. I walk the toes on the other leg back until they can't go any further. Tonight I do this until I feel something under my front hamstring. It takes a split second until I realize that what is directly under my leg is the floor, which has miraculously risen up to meet me.
"Yes!" I think to myself. "Yes!" and then I am instantly humbled. I have been practicing yoga consistently since I was pregnant with Oliver. It has taken me more than six years to come into the shape of this pose.
At the park today, watching Oliver ride around like a crazy person on his bike, I found myself wondering how many weeks it would take until he feels more settled at school. Maybe next week. Maybe never.
I keep wondering when I am going to get there: back to California, my leg over my head, the end of winter, the end of tantrums, and of course what I really want, which is to become a more spiritual person. I thought if I did a lot of yoga, it would happen on its own. There is something to that of course, but it's not that easy. It requires a bit more stretching than that. It takes a long time, sometimes, to get around these big corners. There's a lot of hanging out, suspended over the ground, feet in two different countries. It might be that I never get there, that this is all there is, right now: waiting and staying and standing it.
August 22, 2011 § 11 Comments
Wild. I have been somewhat obsessed with this word lately. Maybe it's because our own summer is a little wild with most of our days spent outside and the two boys growing like wild flowers. Today, Oliver asked if I had put Gus' clothes in his drawer because they were all too small for him. I stared at Oliver in his too-small shorts. "No," I said. "Those are yours." Were yours. Were: that is the word that is used most often when you are a parent. Once you were my baby. Now you are my boy.
Wild is also this month's Jivamukti yoga theme. The way Jiva classes work is that each month, the teachers design their classes around a universal theme. What's interesting is to see how each teacher explores this theme differently. Or, to see how a teacher evolves her classes during the month. My favorite teacher, Kathy, started out this month teaching an uninhibited class. She played "Wild Wild West" and had her students dance. When I took her class last week, she admitted she was tired of that. "I've been thinking about wild animals," she said. "I've been thinking about how sensitive and still they are. How they listen." The class she gave that day focused on listening – to ourselves, to each other, to the world. "In nature," she said, while we were in pigeon pose, "One bird begins to fly and they all follow. One giraffe begins to run and they all organize around that single moment. They all act as one because they know all is one."
I have been thinking about my own wild self, about how I haven't paid very much attention to it. "Shh," I always say. "Be quiet." Perhaps, I am worried that if I listen, I will become so completely out of control that my life will become unmanageable. Perhaps, I believe that my wild self cannot be trusted.
In my late teens and twenties, I suffered from pretty much every eating disorder that has ever been diagnosed. It's not something I really want to write about, but as I get older, I realize that of the thousands of women I have met, maybe three have been immune from eating disorders. Food seems to be the universal sword by which we women wage war upon ourselves. "I am not enough," is what we are really saying when we eat too little or too much. I am so useless and unworthy that I don't deserve to eat. Or, I am so worthless, I need to be filled with something other than myself. It's all the same thing: We don't believe we deserve to be here. We don't believe we can be trusted.
This Saturday, I took Jivamukti from Hari (or "Uncle Hari" as he is affectionately named). Hari talked about wild. He talked about our relentlessly wild minds. He talked about the chaos that ensues when do whatever we want. He talked about the beauty of rules to tame our wildness. Specifically he spoke about the Yoga Sutras, about the Yamas of Ahimsa (non-violence), Satya (truthfulness), and Brahmacarya (moderation). He talked about how within those rules, we can experience great freedom and how sometimes, it is the rules themselves that enable us to be truly wild. His words reminded me of what Shakespeare once wrote about the sonnet, that it was because of their strict structure that he could come up with such lyric poetry.
On Sunday, when Scott went out for a morning bike ride and threw his ClifShot wrapper away, he discovered a raccoon in our trash can. All I know is, it's good he found it and not me. Nothing fills me with fear more than small North American mammals and rodents. And a raccoon looks like both of these combined.
"Anyone want to come help me get the raccoon out of the trash can?" Scott asked when he came home.
Oliver and I both shook our heads.
"I'll go!" Gus called and followed his dad outside in his bare feet.
Oliver and I stood inside by the window and watched as Scott maneuvered the trash can and leaned it on its side, away from the house. Gus came dancing in a few seconds later, he eyes bright. He held out his arms. "The raccoon was this big!" he said.
There seems to be this balance in dealing with our own wild minds, and it's one I haven't quite figured out yet. On one hand, if we let ourselves go completely, life becomes crazy. We can't parent our children or successfully sustain any type of relationship. On the other hand, if we force too many rules upon ourselves, we end up hiding out somewhere in the dark, eating trash. The raccoon reminded me of what Anne Lamott once said about her own thoughts: "My mind remains a bad neighborhood that I try not to go into alone." It reminded me of what Rolf Gates says about compassion: "Starving people eat garbage. And sometimes we are those starving people."
After a month of "Wild" Jivamukti, I am no closer to understanding the term. I think of wild horses and snow-capped mountains and wild geese landing on a lake during my friend's beautiful wedding. I think of children who crave rules and structure and a rhythm to flow into. I think of myself as I approach the age of 40, which is undoubtably the beginning of middle age. I think of the lack of rules and structure and rhythm we have for midlife unless it is the sting of a Botox needle or the sound of a wine bottle opening or the pain of a breakdown.
But there has to be more than this, right? RIGHT???
When I was young, my father listened to Joseph Campbell's audiotapes while we were in the car, which now, I am grateful for. Somewhere in my brain are the transcripts to all of those tapes. In my mind, I can hear Campbell talking about the importance of ritual and how our current society is sorely lacking, especially in adolescence.
He didn't speak about middle age that I remember, but that period of life is most certainly lacking in ritual as well. I knew how to be wild in my twenties. I know how to be wild with and about my children now that I am in my thirties. But how am I supposed to be wild in my forties? How do I know which voice to listen to? Is it the one who tells me follow the rules or is it the one who tells me to abandon them and carve my own path.
Luckily for me, as these things go, I received a message, just when I needed it. It was from someone I do not yet know who read my "Heart" post. She shared the following poem she wrote when her own child was a toddler, and in her poem, I found that harmonious balance between our wild nature and our civilized selves. I found that connection with another soul, which I am thinking may be the only ritual that counts for anything.
What could be a better symbol of the relationship between savage and civilized than our own wild hearts beating in their cages of bone?
Thank you Holly.
In the dawn of my awakening
I reach over
and put my hand
over the soft skin of her small chest
over her tiny heart
I feel it beat with strength, with rhythmic determination
that same tiny heart that beat inside my belly not so long ago
that beats faster while she pedals her two-wheeler
that same growing heart
that closes a little more with each life lesson learned
Eckhart Tolle tells us to be quiet, to be still
to open to the extraordinary moments, that define presence
that life really is beyond our senses, beyond our consciousness
and that she and I, you and I
are really one
So be quiet, be still –
listen and feel the beating of her heart,
my heart, your own heart
the pulse of the universe
and the voice of God
-Holly Brook Cotton 7/24/08
August 9, 2011 § 14 Comments
I've long believed that what has kept writers, again myself included, from fully transcending their personal experiences on the page was fear of incompetence: I can't write a plot that involves a kidnapping because I've never been kidnapped, etc. But what if it's the opposite? What if the reason we find it so difficult to cleave our fiction from our experience, the reason we're so loath to engage our imaginations and let the story rise above the ground floor of truth isn't that we're afraid we'll do the job poorly, but that we're afraid we'll do it too well? … Maybe we're afraid that if we write what we don't know, we'll discover something truer than anything our real lives will ever yield.
- from "Don't Write What You Know," by Bret Anthony Johnston, the Atlantic Fiction 2011
I read these words while I was sitting outside the Lodge at Black Butte Ranch in Sisters, Oregon. We were there for two days for a dear friend's wedding while the boys were three hours away at their grandparents' house. We have never left them for that long before and after 12 hours of sadness and a bit of anxiety, I came to a place of peace. I came to the realization that they were having a blast.
Sitting there, looking up at those snow capped mountains, I also came to a place of homecoming. I came to another realization that even though I spent half my life on the east coast, it's never been home to me the way the west is, where I've spent the other half of my life. I've been working so hard to make Virginia home, but that experience has been like walking with my head down, gazing at the cracks in the sidewalk. Virginia is just the ground floor of truth and trying too hard to love it is like trying to force a square peg in a round hole. It's been like trying to deny my own discreet and infinite hunger.
But of course this is not about Virginia, is it? What I'm really talking about is my own tendency to try to drink from a block of clay rather than molding it into a bowl that can hold water.
This quote pertains directly to my own experience of writing fiction, of writing 50 pages and then being stopped by the paralyzing fear of being incompetent. And it also pertains directly to my own experience of living, of being afraid to dream, to rise past the ground floor of truth because I am afraid I will do it too well. That the world I envision for myself may be too lovely for someone like myself to inhabit. That to abide in the world I long for means making myself open to disaster. That sometimes, being available to beauty is the most terrifying thing there is.


text:
30 results was found matching keyword
0 vote(s)Comment
VietNam News English 1 week(s) ago
Dozens of South Korean and Vietnamese writers and translators participated in a South Korea- Viet Nam Literary Exchange organised on Saturday by the HCM City's Association of Arts and Literature Associations.
Keywords: Vietnamese WritersKim YoungDozensOn SaturdayNguyen Ngoc TuWriters
VOV News English 6 month(s) ago
4 related news
President of the Vietnamese Writers' Association (VWA) Huu Thinh on May 15 sent a letter to his Chinese counterpart Tie Ning to determinedly oppose China's illegal positioning of a drilling rig in Vietnam's exclusive economic zone and continental shelf.
Keywords: letterExclusive Economic ZoneVoicesactThe ChineseHuu ThinhWriters Association
VietnamPlus English 6 month(s) ago
4 related news
Keywords: letterExclusive Economic ZoneVoicesactThe ChineseHuu ThinhUnited Nations Convention
SaiGon GP English 9 month(s) ago
The Le Luu Literature Grant was recently released.It aims to encourage and honor Vietnamese writers who have outstanding works of agriculture, farmers, rural areas and cultural businessmen.
Keywords: Vietnamese WritersgranthonorTran Dang KhoaBang VietencourageDang Nhat Minh
Báo Dân Trí English 10 month(s) ago
Writer Nguyen Thi Thu Hue said that many modern Vietnamese writers are so consumed by the everyday worries of life that they fail to create meaningful works.
Keywords: WritersVietnamese WritersthinkNam CaoownTalentsCritique
Báo QĐND English 12 month(s) ago
2 related news
(photo: qdnd.vn)
Keywords: Vietnamese WritersWritersKevin BowenRenowned VietnameseHis Vietnamesecome backAssociations
VietnamPlus English 12 month(s) ago
2 related news
An oil painting exhibition opened in Hanoi on December 16, showcasing more than 30 portraits of Vietnamese poets and writers by US war veteran Kevin Bowen.
Keywords: Vietnamese WritersWritersKevin BowenjustifyRenowned VietnameseHis Vietnamesecome back
VietNam News English 12 month(s) ago
The portraits of Vietnamese writers Do Chu (left), Phan Thi Vang Anh (centre), and Bao Ninh are among the 34 portraits of Vietnamese writers and artists depicted by American poet Kevin Bowen.
Keywords: Kevin BowenBao NinhcenterHai Ba Trung StreetVietnamese WriterstableImages
VOV News English 12 month(s) ago
2 related news
(VOV) -An art exhibition by US war veteran Kevin Bowen opened in Hanoi on December 16 to showcase thirty oil paintings of famous Vietnamese writers, poets and artists.
Keywords: Kevin BowenNguyen Quang SangPoet Huu ThinhWriter Nguyen NgocThu BonHai Ba Trung StreetVietnamese Writers
Báo QĐND English 12 month(s) ago
PANO - Swedish writer Ake Edwardson, with a special love for Vietnam, talked about his life and career at an exchange with Vietnamese writers on December 10th in Hanoi.
Keywords: Vietnamese WriterswritecareerFor VietnamThe Swedishshadow
VOV News English 12 month(s) ago
4 related news
(VOV) -A collective of Vietnamese writers who studied in Russia held a reunion at the Maxim Gorky Literary Institute in Moscow on December 4 to mark its 80th founding anniversary.
Keywords: tablecenterHuu ThinhinstituteIn RussiaVietnamese StudentsTran Dang Khoa
Báo QĐND English 13 month(s) ago
(photo: Vnexpress)
Keywords: Vietnamese WritersBeijing UniversityPhong DiepIn ChinaSome ChinesePhoto VnexpressVietnamese Literature
VietNam News English 13 month(s) ago
Literature and arts play an important role in nurturing the friendship between Viet Nam and China, a senior Party official said while welcoming a delegation of Chinese writers to Viet Nam.
Keywords: WritersAssociationsDelegationbetweenChina AVietnamese WritersIts People
VietnamPlus English 13 month(s) ago 1 duplicate news
The meeting between the writers' associations of Vietnam and China offers a chance for the two sides to deepen their cooperation in literature.
Keywords: tieWritersAssociationsDelegationdeepenWriters Associationjustify
Top page
| Sign up |
Forgot password
News collection and classification on Baomoi were automatically processed by a computer program.
Publication permit No. 46/GP-TTĐT, Ministry of Information and Communications.
Copyright © by EPI Join Stock Company. All rights reserved.


text:
Friday, November 21
@ 5:30–9:00pm (ages 5–13)
Both boys and girls are invited to get creative with our newest holiday scout program—Crafty Critters Winter Workshop is a fun-filled evening of creative crafts, animal encounters and activities that will earn credits towards your badge requirements and journeys! Discover how "crafty" animals can be as they prepare for the winter months ahead. Will they hunker down in their hometown habitat for the holidays or head south from their summer homes for warmer weather? This Craft-A-Paloo-ZOO will begin with a brief presentation on wildlife in winter and then let your creativity run wild, crafting critters and other fun things! This exciting evening will wrap up with a Holiday Light Hike, where you will enjoy Riverbanks' Lights Before Christmas**! On your self-guided hike, you will see some of Riverbanks' most loved residents as colorful animated images, watch it snow, roast marshmallows and sip hot cocoa at the Jingle Bell Bonfire!
*Girl Scouts: Please plan to participate and bring a Christmas Critter themed S.W.A.P.s to exchange with your fellow Girl Scouts. **Admission to Lights Before Christmas is included in the program fee.
Program and activities will work towards Cub Scout, Girl Scout badge requirements and troop work for all levels that may include, but are not limited to: Daisy- 3 Cheers for Animals: Brownie- Try Its: Animals and Watching Wildlife, Eco-Explorer Badge. Junior: Earth Connections Badge and Amuse: Animals Habitats Badge, Cub Scouts: Tigers - Elective #42, Wolves- Achievement #10, Bears Achievement #5, 5, 5d, 5G. Webelos- Naturalist Badge #4, etc.


text: Backfire: Mark Kelly Filmed Himself to Show 'Background Checks Are Easy' Print article Send a Tip by AWR Hawkins 31 Mar 2013 post a comment Before going to Diamondback Police Supply to try to buy an AR-15 on March 5, Mark Kelly made a video inside his home in which he told his wife Gabby Giffords, "I'm going to the gun store and buy a gun today because I want to demonstrate to everybody who will be watching how easy it is to get a universal background check." However, the video appears to be edited so as to leave out his request for an AR-15. The video, filmed in a hidden-camera style, shows Kelly walking into Diamondback Police Supply on March 5. He tells a store employee he wants to buy a .45 caliber handgun. He does a background check for a Sig Sauer model 1911. Throughout the process he is recording the events via a pocket camera. After completing the backgroud check, the video shows him back in the car talking about how quick and easy the background check was--how it only took a bit over five minutes. However, it does not mention his attempt to buy an AR-15 rifle. He would later tell Wolf Blitzer that he went into the gun store with a plan to buy a .45 and, "if we had the opportunity, to buy an AR-15 as well." He paid for an AR-15 on March 5 but had to wait 20 days before he could pick it up because it was a trade-in firearm. While talking with Blitzer, Kelly took time to re-emphasize a claim he'd already made a few days before--namely, that he was not buying the AR-15 for himself, but was buying it to give away to the Tucson PD. But as Breitbart News reported on March 26, shortly before Kelly was to return to Diamondback Police Supply to complete the background check process for his AR-15 and pick the firearm up, store owner Douglas MacKinlay halted the purchase process and sent Kelly a refund check. Kelly's ongoing public insistence that he was only buying the AR-15 to give it away led MacKinlay to believe Kelly could not pass question 11a on background check form 4473. That's the question that asks the would-be purchaser if he or she is the actual buyer of the firearm--i.e., are you actually buying this firearm for yourself or are you passing it to someone else? Kelly's gun control group, Americans For Responsible Solutions, has released the video with the title, "Background Checks Are Easy." But it appears the background check for the AR-15 wasn't that easy after all. And the system--the existing system--worked just fine.


text:
Shoestring opus revives the caged-heat genre
The last drink pours Saturday... Phoenix'll be a lot less cool for the next couple of months, and I ain't talkin' about the friggin' heat island. This Saturday, the venerable soul lounge Chez Nous pours its final cocktail after 40-plus years in the drink-slingin' biz. The Chez's been forced out by ... More >>
L-Word band rocks The Biz
Chez Nous
Bones goes to the 'hood and digs up every horror cliché it can find
Jawbreaker, Office Space no laughing matters
The overlong, sometimes funky Jackie Brown shows Tarantino looking for direction


text:
Adam heads to New Brunswick, NJ, for the massive triple-decker deli sandwiches, 2-lb Stromboli and the legendary Fat Sandwich Challenge at R.U. Hungry grease truck.Go to Episode
More New Jersey Travel Guides
Bizarre Foods: New Jersey Travel Guide
Get a complete list of the places Andrew Zimmern visited in New Jersey.
Hotel Impossible: Seaside Heights, NJ, Travel Guide
Anthony is in Seaside Heights, NJ, determined to help rebuild the Thunderbird Motel, which remains beaten ...
Halloween Attractions Travel Guide
During the month of October, these amusement parks transform into creepy Halloween attractions.
Other Man v Food Travel Guides
Adam Richman visits 3 baseball stadiums known ...
Adam travels to Charleston for oysters served ...
Check out all of the places Adam Richman ...
Take a look at the places Adam Richman and ...
More Travel Inspirations
GAC America's Amusement Parks
Buckle up and take a tour of the most thrilling amusement parks in America.
3-Ingredient Apps for Thanksgiving
Try Food.com's quick and easy apps for a stress free turkey day.
Food Network's Top Turkey Day Tips
Plan Your Menu with easy, how-to videos from Bobby, Sunny and more.


text:
More details:
The plaintiff in my case filed false claims for monies said owed and lied in a proof of claim and I have 100% proff. is that person going to prison ?
You can follow answers to this question by subscribing by e-mail.
Answer this Question
Answered 1 year ago
Proof of claim went where? Bankruptcy court? You need to contest the POC or it may be accepted as fact. If he lied under oath, it is perjury and is a felony. Will he go to jail?, maybe. Bill Clinton lied under oath and nothing happened.


text:
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Follow us:
Time Warner Cable video customers:Sign in with your TWC ID to access our video clips.
Sign in
To view our videos, you need to
install Adobe Flash 9 or above. Install now.
Then come back here and refresh the page.
YNN VIDEO: A group of children touched by cancer, sickle-cell anemia and other life-threatening challenges are getting the unique opportunity to take in Jets training camp in Cortland.
Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited.
© 1999-2014 Time Warner Cable Enterprises LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Web design and web development by Tipit.


text:
As Banshee Tree, Kalyn Pembridge and Thomas LaFond make a surprisingly original and enticing mix of gypsy jazz, folk pop and swing. They moved to Colorado from upstate New York four years ago, and can be seen seemingly every night of the week along the Front Range, playing a mix of standards like "O ... More >>
Mary DeForest loves Jane Austen. The 68-year-old academic has read each of the author's novels over 100 times. "I went to her tomb at Winchester Cathedral and burst into tears," she says. "I couldn't believe she was dead." DeForest has spent much of her academic career defending Austen's legacy. " ... More >>
Ninox, a new apparel company based in Boulder, is bridging the gap between men's fashion and technical outerwear. Founders Greg Casals and Allie Thielens have applied their interest in modern design to innovative technological fabrics for a new line launching this fall. They took a few minutes from ... More >>
You can find art all over town -- not just on gallery walls. In this series, we'll be looking at some of the local artists who serve up their work in coffeehouses and other non-gallery businesses around town. McMean Elementary School art teacher Melinda Laz is breaking back into the local art scene ... More >>
Gallup has released a new poll that measures the most religious communities -- a list topped by the Provo-Orem, Utah area, where 77 percent of respondents described themselves as "very religious." What about the least religious places? Gallup calculated that, too, with none other than Boulder finis ... More >>
Jeff Bauman and his brother, Marc, have closed Pig & Block Charcuterie, their small but mighty cured meat and butcher shop, directly next door to Old Major, that opened in October of 2011 in Highland. Jeff, who also pimped wine, dried pastas, a collection of salts, salumi and fresh meat, including s ... More >>
The 16th Street Mall turned thirty yesterday, and it's looking better than it has in years, with the best yet to come as work continues on the Union Station project. The mall's official birthday celebration will be Tuesday at Skyline Park -- but some critics won't be coming to the party.
The Colorado Supreme Court ruling to allow people with concealed-carry permits to possess guns on University of Colorado campuses will necessitate a major philosophical shift among CU officials. Case in point: Just over two years ago, CU Boulder expanded its weapons ban to include Nerf guns.
Michael Cerretani, barman at Boulder's Bitter Bar, has been bartending off and on for about a decade, but he didn't start down the craft-cocktail path until he landed a job at Bitter Bar a few years ago.
Denver Beer Co doesn't have a kitchen, but the city's zoning inspectors may be tempted to double check. The brewery, which opens today on Platte Street, serves Kaffir Lime Wheat as fresh and nuanced as any chef's signature appetizer, a rauschbier that smells and tastes like a plate of smoked ... More >>
Luciano's is closed, with a lockout order on the front door.Luciano's Pizza and Wings, a Buffalo-style joint that has attracted numerous fans over the years (including upstate New York native Jason Sheehan) and sparked some discussion after our recent "Denver's five best wings" list, is close ... More >>
Lori MidsonEli Odell Highland Tap and Burger 2219 West 32nd Avenue 720-287-4493 www.highlandtapdenver.com This is part one of Lori Midson's interview with Eli Odell, executive chef of Highland Tap and Burger. Read part two of that interview, in which Odell dishes on hammering eighty pounds o ... More >>
Earlier this morning, Lil Wayne was released from New York's Rikers Island after serving eight months of a one-year sentence for criminal possession of a weapon. Fellow Southern rapper T.I., meanwhile, went back to jail on Monday after a federal judge in Atlanta revoked his probation follow ... More >>
Image via FlickrCici's buffalo chicken pizza.There's good pizza and there's great pizza, but the consensus is that there's really no such thing as a bad pizza. It's pizza. Whether you like the pizza at CiCi's Pizza Buffet -- perhaps best known for its $5 all-you-can-eat pizza -- haven't had ... More >>
Don't laugh at this weapon! Don't!Hard to imagine why most people reacted to CU-Boulder's dire warnings about Nerf guns with either eye rolls or guffaws. The weapons, which fire spongy ammo designed not to hurt children, are clearly risky -- as CU-Boulder police chief Joe E. Roy emphasizes in ... More >>
Lev Grossman conjures up a spellbinding book in The Magicians.
Houses aren't the only folks releasing a new CD tonight. Over at the Soiled Dove Underground, Angie Stevens is issuing her eagerly awaited disc, Queen of This Mess, the follow-up to her Stand Up Girl 1 & 2. As you'll hear after the jump, Grammy-winning producer Malcolm Burn, who recorded and pro ... More >>
The rib-tickling history of Hoss Orwat.
Ketch Secor and company's old-timey music invokes a simpler time.
With over a dozen songs licensed to television, he's ready for his close-up.
In music and tattooing, Gym Class Heroes' Travis McCoy gets to the point.
A young actress shines as a cokehead mom in the harrowing Down to the Bone.
Red-pepper jelly gets canned at Frasca.
What's good? Frisco's Deli and Market.
Lovable loser Zippy Chippy takes the lead.
Seasons Greetings
Fear Before the March of Flames' four-alarm hardcore torches everything in its path.
Dinner and a Movie
The Real Deal
New York's Longwave is happy together.
A Fish Story
Arthur Miller's daughter comes into her own with Personal Velocity.
The arrival of lacrosse legend Gary Gait could make the sport Mammoth in Colorado.
El Taco de México goes to the head of the class.
To market, to market
Brief sketches of what's happening in the Denver art scene.
Cabaret Diosa gets sheikh in the heart of the apocalypse.
Gary Rudd got zapped one day, and life has never been the same.
You Can Count on Me starts small but works its way to greatness.
From the week of September 7