August Sky

Aug. 13, 2008 A Perseid Meteor Shower was happening in the sky since the last night. I sighted more than 10 in a half an hour period. Unfortunately I only could capture the slight trace of a meteor on camera and the quality of the uploaded movie is not as good as to show it. Nevertheless, try to see (imagine!?) it in the centre between 00:21s and 00:27s.

A bird's eye view of Canada

Flying from Toronto to Edmonton.

January 2008

"It's less important to get a good answer than to get someone to listen to your question in the first place"

At least that seems to apply to millions of people on the Web as Jacob Leibenluft finds in his article:

A Librarian's Worst Nightmare. Yahoo! Answers, where 120 million users can be wrong.

Also worth to notice is his comparison with the Wikipedia model.

I made the above video clip from still pictures of the total lunar eclipse on February 20, 2008.

You know it's bitter cold when... (II)

continues from part I...

I still have the image in my mind of my red hands. They felt like two gloves that are being inflated but, at the same time, crushed by an external invisible force. The feeling was a slightly painful immobility and lack of sensitivity to the touch.

Locking the bike looked futile with such a pair of hands (by the way, did I mention that the vapour from my breath had formed an icy layer in my eyeglasses that partially blocked my vision?) With a sense of urgency I reached for my backpack, searching for the pair of gloves that I usually wear convinced now that the new ones were useless under these conditions.

With the bicycle workshop closed my worry for my hands was stronger than the embarrassment of seeking refuge in the property next door, an Audiology clinic...

The answer to my introduction, "The chain of my bike just broke, would you mind if I take refuge here to warm up my hands" was amazing. They not only didn't mind me staying inside but asked if I needed to make a call and offered to prepare coffee for me, offer that I exchanged for plain hot water.

The fact that not only the receptionists were empathic with my situation, but also the understanding showed by a costumer waiting for his appointment, an old man born in Edmonton, made me realize how extreme was the weather that particular day. In part, I had underestimated what a difference of 70 degrees C with respect to the body temperature can do, but also, as it happens many times, my lack of experience was being replaced with painful lessons.

If my "balloon" hands were hurting while frozen (frostnip is the technical term) the slower recovery of my hands was many times more painful. Small needles were stinging with torturous slowness all around outside and inside my hands.

But the pain eventually subsided and it was time to attend my bike, which I had left leaning against the wall, at the entrance of the clinic. Resolved to lock the bike, the best place nearby was where I had failed before. Having left my backpack at the care of the receptionists in the clinic, now with "fresh" hands and clear eyeglasses, I was convinced that this time I would succeed in my attempt.

When I returned to the clinic I couldn't refrain myself to share with my kind hosts what just had happened saying: "There is no doubt that life is an adventure in Edmonton, if you don't die frozen trying to lock a bike, you die asphyxiated by the gases from the exhaust of a car besides in auto-start" We laughed at this as it was funny and odd that my second attempt to lock the bike had an unexpected extra difficulty. Yes, I succeeded this time and later at night I picked up the bike on my way back home, but why, why if it was difficult enough to deal with the 50cm of snow, the frozen lock and hurting hands, why a car without a driver has to auto-start, delivering all its gases to my face in the middle of my struggle, why? =)

Days later after my little "adventure" the tips of my fingers are still "burned" and lacking sensitivity, with no chance of change while this winter lasts...and of course while I keep insisting on biking after I had the bike repaired one week later.

Now that you have followed this "chilling" story until this end, allow me to warm you up with a bit of humor from real life happenings in Edmonton during Winter...

You know it's bitter cold when...

...when you open the fridge in the kitchen and it feels warmer inside it. =)

When is bitter cold for you? Feel free to leave your answers in the comments section below... and keep yourself warm!

You know it's bitter cold when...

In short, when you loose any feeling in your fingers... apart from a slowly appearing, hurting sensation that your hands are growing in size.

The more extended explanation goes like this: I was cycling from home to work at -33 C (lower than that with the wind chill). I did it the last day under the same conditions and though I used to say that the experience is like bike-skating now it looked more like bike-skiing. At each pedalling movement there was a drift sideways of the back of the bike =)

However, this time the accumulation of snow (about 15 cm. in the parts where I still could try to slowly cycle) made it harder resulting in the breaking of the chain. Bad luck I said and because I was not very far from home decided to go back there to leave the bike. But I changed my mind remembering a bicycle workshop nearby and on my way to work. I headed there...

While walking and pushing my bike I started feeling my hands colder than usual. Of course, with a metal handle this is a situation that I have experienced before, despite the plastic covers in the handle and gloves in my hands. But this time I was surprised that my hands were feeling cold so quickly. It seemed that the skiing gloves that I have decided to try this time were not as good as my usual combination of leather gloves under fingerless gloves with a mitten cover.

I found the workshop in 109 St. closed, not surprising after previous experiences but worrying given my cold hands (I was hoping to warm them inside). Ok, the plan was now to lock the bike to a signal post and go to work. It proved to be an ill-conceived plan. In the first place the lock was frozen so the key could not open it to insert the bar. Secondly I made the mistake of removing my gloves to handle the lock better. The metallic lock was damn cold!! Almost unbearable to touch it with bare hands and despite the plastic around it. Plus the snow around the post (something like 50 cm.) made difficult to handle the bike. Then is when the slowly appearing, hurting sensation that my hands were growing in size made me take another course of action.

To be continued...

Shopping or not to be, that is the question...

photo originally uploaded by lyzadanger

In this planet there is a land of consumerism, where plastic is a God and styrofoam containers the priests that everyday deliver to their followers lunch and coffee. A land where without a car you are nobody, the malls are churches where the faith is renovated and the energy power endless... or it seems to be...otherwise I don't explain why every night all the lights in the house are on... and appear on again in the morning despite turning them off. An electric stove can be left on without food on it and a SUV is the obvious choice when buying a car.

"And when you're out there
Without care,
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

"Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?"
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly

A reason, a season or a lifetime

At the end of my teenage I was moved by this part of Oscar Wilde's Ballad of Reading Gaol:

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.


The prison (or gaol) still exists and the poem was inspired by Charles Thomas Wooldridge, Trooper of Royal Horse Guards who was executed on 7 July 1896 for the murder of his wife and I would say by Wilde's own feelings of betrayal from his former lover. Feelings that he poured out in his long, long letter De profundis.

In November 2005 I remembered Oscar Wilde writings after experiencing a broken heart.

But that experience, that encounter, taught me that she was not the one to blame but my own expectations. At the end of De profundis, Oscar Wilde realizes how much he is to be blamed for his misfortune. Later I would put in words my own realizations here helped by other books and movies. A final conclusion of what I mean with saying that love is the journey not the destination came in another post.

Last week I received this quotation. It summarizes what I have learned since that night of November 2005:

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a
need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty,
to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally
or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there
for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your
part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to
bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk
away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must
realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is
done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move
on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has
come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make
you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually
give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for
a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must
build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to
accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in
all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is
blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Thank you for being a part of my life,
whether you are a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Thank YOU!

Elvira Santamaria

Last 30th of March I went to Downtown Edmonton considering that the artist Elvira Santarmaria welcomes the participation of the public. It is called action-art and in her own words it means... "a larger term than performance. It's the art of creating experiencies, meaning through feeling. Not objects, although in the process objects can appear or create an experience. Action art is actions as art."

Some minutes after my arrival I took my jacket and my shoes off and gently I made myself at home in her temporal space at Latitude 53. Thoughts started to cross my mind while I was observing her in her actions. For some moments she was reading words from a universal history book while standing in front of a big spiral made of salt scattered on the floor. In fact, in different places of the room there were other patterns made of salt that she made during her hours of activity. In some other moments she laid on the floor, gradually blowing some of the spiral, traveling from the outside towards the centre of it. This combined action of blowing and reading gave me the impression that she was erasing the words because this spiral had for me the form of the glyph that Aztec paintings used to represent someone speaking. I thought that she was also remembering the past as her selected words from the history book were flowing. Was she contemplating the past? There were certainly people contemplating her work and taking pictures of her display while she was making her way through the spiral. Was she making the way or erasing the way that history has followed? A history of creation and destruction.

At the same time that I was observing her, submerged in my thoughts, one of her salt patterns was inviting me to let the impression of my hand on it. Of course I had a debate in my mind. Should I do it or not? I believed that her work invites the audience to participate, to act. However, I felt that putting my hand on her work, out of the blue, was somehow too childish. A child does these things without thinking, not an adult. The solution to my dilemma came when I realized that being an adult does not necessarily mean that I should not do some things but it means that the how I do things is different to that of a child. Obvious as it sounds, to put this in practice requires more than thinking. I can be watching Elvira, expecting a signal that allows me to participate, the "permission from the authority", while holding my wishes to act. I can hold myself only reflecting, like others seem to be doing.

"I am not proposing people interact with me. The way to people is through my actions, how I use the space, how people can be there or feel free to leave. That's the way I invite them" she clarifies.

I sat besides the salt pattern that was inviting me to put my hand on it. It was there, it was not mine and I was not sure that it was completely hers. I decided to let myself be part of the actions, not suddenly interrupting but spending some time watching what was the dynamics of the actions taking place in the room in order to act myself. Gently, I left an impression of my hand on the salt and it really didn't look well there. Being part of something brings responsibilities. I understood that one of the beauties of her apparent simple and futile pattern was due to the time that she spent doing it. As she pointed out in her lecture days before in the University, the stress is not in what to do but how to do it, completely present, with dedication and giving the appropriate time. I would like to eat my meals in the same way that she works.

My intervention in her space made me part of it, only in terms of how I wanted to be there. With the best of my intuition I inserted myself in the dynamics of the room starting to modified my hand print to better suit her pattern.

She and I speak Spanish and nevertheless, there we were, in an English speaking environment. Perhaps in her blows of the spiral she was erasing a language of words in favour of a language of responsible communitarian actions.

Defragged

I have watched with fascination my friend's machimina, which has the interesting name Defragged. Of course those of you familiar with video games might not be surprised at all by such a name. After all, what else a grenade can do? If you are a computer versed creature you also know what the term means.

Now, what my friend's work does is, in my opinion, to "defrag" what her main character sees as reality.

Let me give you my own personal experience from watching the video. The beginning is a close reminder of a Quake game. Then, at a critical point I really had the feeling of a malfunction of the game that my friend intended to give us... but, is it a malfunction of the game? Recalling that the character was chasing Hossman before the malfunction a thought comes to my mind. Why the character didn't shoot merciless Hossman as it has been doing with others? It was not because of lack of ammo... maybe the failure is not in the program.

The character is now alone and in an introspective search that reminds me a David Lynch's movies situation, specially in the "mirror" scene of Lost Highway. The character here should know that the other is not his specular image in a mirror because of the side on which one of them are carrying their guns.

The clones are part of that introspective search that tests the boundaries of the character's perception. At the end, the single shot that kills the character is like a return to the real time, real space and the action of a snipper. However, when I realized that the score was -1 I just could think that the character somehow shoot himself.

For me, Defragged is a metaphore. Someone who kills merciless ends up alienating themselves and kills something inside them.

Edmonton in the cold III

Back in the hotel, with the refreshing feeling of having been able to come back with two hands working, I realized another fundamental mistake. I was walking west, towards the forest and the river, instead of south. Days later, during the Departmental Christmas dinner, I will make people at my table laugh with this story. Not only because of my mistake but because I was not the first one to make it! The great majority of the streets in Edmonton have numbers, no names and more precisely speaking there are streets and there are avenues. Streets run south and north, increasing their number to the west. Avenues run east and west, increasing their numbers to the north. At the moment of realizing my mistake I confessed it while phoning to the guy who was waiting for my visit. It may be that my explanation of why I have had not arrived at his place was reasonable enough because he offered to me to pick me up at the hotel in his car and take me back. "Canadians are friendly" I have heard other people telling me. The gesture of that guy was really a good example of it and one of many other examples of friendliness that I will come to find in my later experiences.

But, as much as the guy was friendly and he only asked 280 CAN per month, the lack of furniture in the room gave me the illustrative experience that I was talking about before. I agree that a cold floor and an empty room is better than nothing but I wanted to try my luck before taking on them. The next day I changed my search to the more obvious strategy of looking at recently posted advertisements. Fortunately, I had a couple of places more to visit and the question was again "how to decide which option?"

At the end I discovered that there was a simple answer to that question. I have noticed that the prices of a comfortable accommodation were fluctuating between 400 and 600 CAN dollars, including or not including bills and services depending
on the case. (That of course, without having to share with more than one person the house or apartment.) The focus of my decision was more in where and with who I was going to live with. Therefore, I can summarize now my experience of finding accommodation in Edmonton in the following way: all depended in how comfortable I felt when I visited the place I am living now in.

Yes, it is a basement suit, but under a Yoga-Buddhist-Christian centre. =) More about this, later.

Edmonton in the cold II

Snow
originally uploaded by Neil Carey.

At -30 C, things outside your common experience start to happen. The steam from your breath freezes in the lens of the spectacles if you happen to use ones. Your hands hurts without gloves and once cold they don't warm up quickly in the gloves, actually you just feel that the blood is stuck there. I happen to use spectacles and the diver's trick of using saliva helped a bit. But why on earth I had to remove my gloves? Of course I didn't want to scratch the lenses when applying the saliva but oh yes, there is another reason why I removed the gloves. To better manipulate the map as I was lost. Without proper light to see the map, not a soul at 8pm walking in the street to whom ask for directions and the funny feeling in my hand increasingly calling my attention, I came to the delirium, I mean conclusion, that something have had to be mad. Either the numbering of the streets or me walking in an area that was increasingly dense in threes instead of houses. It was then when I decided to go back to the hotel. =) If the insanity of the streets numbering or of my mind was serious enough as to stop me finding quickly the way back, that was something that I would have to discover. Fortunately, my concern was distracted by the sight of a rabbit crossing in front of me as I walked. The fluffy rabbit didn't seem to mind the temperature or it was crazier than me. Perhaps more the former than the latter as I bump not longer later with a woman shoveling the snow in front of her house.

To be continued...

Edmonton in the cold

Edmonton in the cold
originally uploaded by Paul Jerry.

I had a week to find accommodation while staying in a hotel. Perhaps some of us have the concept that something that is cheap, convenient and nice is close to perfection. In fact I thing those are the attributes that advertisements want always to give to the products. In any case my perfect room was not something different to one of these products. I had a great tool to help me in the form of a website that lists a great range of offers. However, that was the first problem: how to choose among the many. For example, that room close to work is advertised as not furnished (as the majority are here in Edmonton!), that cheap one is only for females ("preferred" doesn't say it completely clearly, does it?) and the furnished one is too expensive. Now, the previous examples didn't represent any rule or pattern and when I finally was able to find the best combination I encounter a fundamental problem: all the ones that I carefully chose were taken already.My mistake was not to put enough attention to how recent the ad was. By the time when I have realized why the approach of my search didn't start well I already have had another illustrative experience.

Have you ever lived in a basement? There are from places to places and from basements to basements to be fare, but at the beginning of my search I have discarded basements as I regarded them as "perhaps" too cold, too depressive. (Some pictures that I saw gave me that prejudice =) However, as the options were narrowing and the days passing, I was opening my mind. "Perhaps starting without furniture is not too bad" "Basement? Well, judging by the amount of advertised basements I suppose they are not that cold" and so.

In this context, in one of those -30 C nights I got a room to visit, a room in a basement to be more precise. I had a look at the map, and started my first walk in the city, in the parts outside of my up to now known range (the hotel is besides the Uni). Well, I never got to the place.

This story will continue...

Edmonton views

Here in Edmonton we have had a warm -3 to 3 degrees in temperature these days. =) That is what everyone says and I am certainly feel it and understand it. When I arrived the temperature was -20 C (-30 C with the wind chill factor) and I saw an incautious girl in a mere jumper (probably just arrived from another city) going out of the doors of the airport to smoke a cigarette while talking on her mobile. I swear that when she came back inside you could see that her body was dying =) Her face had an strange color, her eyes were wide open and her voice had a change. Even so she continued talking on the phone perhaps without realizing what her body just have been going through. That's the magic of youth called unconsciousness :D and one piece of evidence to show that smokers are suicidal.

I was in the other extreme. Overcautious as I read that I should be I dressed with 5 layers in my upper body, two in the head and two in my lower body. That didn't make me the most agile person when carrying my luggage but I found out that it is not as bad as I was expecting and the experienced re-enforced the need of buying proper clothing . Same thing that I did with the help of my new supervisor on the next day.

With the hotel paid by my employer, I only had to have a hot bath and rest in the bed. My condition was: a rare combination of mental and physical tiredness and boredom, all together. Not surprising after all and after having a day spent in three different planes and airports, three different countries, and one use of what it seems an advantage of the NAFTA or North America (that means Canada, USA and Mexico believe it or not ;-) Free Trade Agreement.

The morning was waiting for me with what my not very experienced life found a mesmerizing view...