Focus, mood, and energy level

The laser sight on the Taser (or on some firearms) puts a red (usually) or green dot where the dart or bullet will land. One company that manufactures laser sights refers to this as “Helping criminals make informed decisions”.  –Rory Miller



I'm feeling frustrated right now with my lack of self discipline regarding work on my fiction. One of my favorite writers has made some noises about possibly offering some personalized mentoring to people. That perked my ears. I'd love to treat myself to that if it's in my budget, but that would involve committing to setting ass to chair and fingers to keyboard (and not to fart around on the web, to FOCUS). I've been pretty good about keeping up on the training blog, so I decided that I might try posting some more stuff to Facebook (I usually limit my FB postings  mostly to the martial arts quotes that I also put on my blog). Today- as a writing challenge- I wrote about changing light bulbs, and tried to make it funny and interesting. I got a good response.

I am quite firmly anti-drug, but today I also did a bit of an experiment.  Like any self-respecting psychology enthusiast, I am certain that I have about a dozen assorted undiagnosed mental pathologies. One of which is a moderate helping of ADD.

No one I know would ever give me two tabs of a controlled substance (let's call it Subtractorall), and if they did, I would never take it. But let's just say, hypothetically, that I took a Subtractorall today just to see what would happen (specifically, in class).

Well, hypothetically, I feel energized. Normally, the combo of depression, severe allergies, and wonky work hours has me perpetually feeling exhausted, and constantly prioritizing bed over any other activity that I don't absolutely *have* to do. Right now, I do not feel tired.... and it's very bizarre because I don't really know what it feels like to not be tired.  I was really excited to go to class, and was bouncing around and singing.

I also feel less depressed than usual.... although I may have stacked the deck in that respect by writing the light bulb treatise this morning. Creative work of any type tends to temporarily unfreeze my emotions, and I get happy or deeply morose (often both in succession... there's that undiagnosed bipolar disorder at work).

I also have a powerful placebo effect response, so it's entirely possible that I feel different simply because I was expecting something different to happen.

I will need to hypothetically run this experiment again on a different day and see if similar hypothetical observations occur.

Unfortunately, class today in Bellevue was an all-sparring class, which was a little disappointing because I had wanted to see if I could focus better on drills and learning new technique.

My goal for today was to not give people my back. This resolution resulted in having fewer (percieved) options once trapped under side control. I still did some turtling, but not as much as I usually do- and when I did it, I tried to transition out of it instead of just hunching there and waiting for the other person to take my back so that I could escape. I asked a few people to try to take my back- and if they could get it- to choke me and make it hurt (No one got it today).
I did mostly well at staying on the move.

Suranjen continues to let me have a bunch of KOB's, a bunch of front mounts, a bunch of taps. I continue to not know how to ask him why he's doing it, or how to ask him to stop. I am 100% certain he is holding back in a major way. He didn't used to do it, and I don't get why he is doing it now.

With John, I decided that I did not want to be in his guard today, so I was pretty assertive about passing, getting and staying on top. Was moving well with him today, mostly.

Did some standup with Nelson, which is always fun. One hilarious moment- I glanced over my shoulder to make sure there was enough clear mat space in that spot to try to throw him over there, and he took that instant to throw me instead. That's what I get for being considerate!

Trying to break Nelson's grips is a ripe bitch.

Another unusual thing- I wasn't exhausted at the end of class.

Move your head.

Stopping violence or potential violence is a separate issue from  “justice”- motive and mental competency are keys to determining the level of criminal culpability, but are irrelevant to whether someone must be stopped before they hurt somebody. –Rory Miller


Thurs "advanced" class in Bellevue. This turned out to be a combined class- Prof Carlos is at Worlds, I think.... Prof Jamie taught us.

Cross collar choke from guard, Kimura from guard, situp sweep from guard, hip throws, pulling guard from standing, pulling guard from standing and then transitioning to armbar. I was working in a trio with Nadine and Chrisanne, and was able to give them some good hints and feedback (such as, MOVE YOUR HEAD TO THE SIDE before you swipe someone's posting arms off your belly and yank them down on your chest in closed guard). As amusing as it can be to watch white belts bash their foreheads together, I just don't have the heart.

Positional sparring from closed guard and spider guard.

One spar with Casey and a couple with Chrisanne. Chrisanne was working tighter tonight. I did have to remind her to assertively jump on me right off the fist bump instead of sitting back on her haunches and waiting meekly to get shoved to the mat. But she was feeling really heavy on top tonight, and doing a good job controlling all my parts so that I couldn't effectively get out of her scarf or side control.

I will unfortunately be missing Friday evening class- my cat is having surgery tomorrow, and I will have to stay home in the evening and keep an eye on him. I'm all out of good library books, and most of my PSG packing is finished- so maybe I will actually get a little writing done? Made another batch of cat food last night with the tape player going- the stirring of the creative juices put an intriguing new scene into my mind. Need to stay out of the kitchen, at any rate- especially with the missed class. I'm going to have to be really careful if I want to make weight for next weekend. I'm right on the edge. My fridge is full of eggs, but all I want is pizza!

"Do you do yoga?"

If you get injured- shot or otherwise- while running, keep running. Most people survive wounds. Most wounds are psychologically, not physically, incapacitating. You may be killed. You may bleed out. DO NOT give up. Not even if you are shot. –Rory Miller



Friday evening BJJ, Bellevue.

Side control  to scarf, throw your leg over opponent's head  and grab your own lapel, trapping opponent's arm. Place your other hand on the mat, then knee, then turn and armbar (the foot closest to opponent's feet is under hir back). Little Prof Herbert stays amazingly tight throughout- he's so close to the guy that he's practically scootching underneath him.

Same, but opponent defends armbar by joining hands. Pull your feet out one at a time and cross them over top of hir arm. Bicep slicer(!)

Then switch to a grab-your-own-wrist grip and roll towards opponent's head to break the grip. That one I learned from Carlos some time ago and have actually effectively used, along with a foot on the bicep to pry at the arm.

Next: I know there's a name for the keylock when the opponent's palm is on the mat by hir hip, but I don't know the name (no one ever names techniques here). Anyhow, you're in side control going for that, and the opponent grabs hir own belt or gi tail to defend. The arm closest to hir feet, place that elbow on the mat and your palm on your ear. thread your other hand through and grab the bicep of THAT arm (this took some wiggling, for me). Now move to NS and kick your trainling leg under in a sit-out. KEEP elbow on the mat (this is counterintuitive, but the prof corrected me on this specifically and it changed EVERYTHING). Once in position, you barely have to lift in order to finish a shoulder lock.

Positional sparring from side control. Then one roll with Kevin and one with a good blue belt guy I've worked with a couple times. As we slapped hands to start- him drenched in sweat and puffing like a locomotive- he commented wonderingly that I wasn't even out of breath. Kevin and I had just had a long, lively, competitive, technical roll. I asked blue belt guy if he did yoga. He was that flexible, esp for a guy. He said no, but that he'd done lots of MA and always worked on his flexibility.

I seem to be moving more and setting up- or at least threatening- more subs lately. It seems like a slow, meandering improvement. I'll take it.

I put on some music last night while making the cat food. Found out that my CD player has bought the farm. Tape player still works, although will not rewind. Sigh. Last week I organized most of my art supply boxes, and I have my tables set up now... so I can start working on projects any time. I also churned out three pages on my book today- which I haven't worked on in a long time. Frustratingly, as I make a few tentative moves to break out of creative deep-freeze, my mind immediately starts hamster-wheeling on past trauma events (Autumn '11). I really hope those thought processes are not mentally associated with the book (although I started serious concrete work on that right after the trauma, to try to divert myself- I'm going to be really vexed if that's the case). The alternative theory, of course, is that *ANY* venture out of robotic day to day "enduring life" and into a creative "LIVING life" mode causes my subconscious to lunge up reflexively like Pavlov's Demon Dog to sabotage me with toxic thought processes. I am my own worst enemy. It kinda makes me want to put the art away and just go back into zombie zone. Seriously, it's like I can't allow myself to feel pleasure and enjoyment (in art) without serving up a load of emotional garbage to make sure it's tainted. Either feel nothing at all, or open the door that lets acute pain back into the space.  I mean, just look at this paragraph. This happened because I sang along with 2 cassette tapes and wrote three pages of fiction. This is how I get. I don't know if it's worth it.

Problem is, my MA, my artistry, and my spirituality are all fused together. I can make some progress on MA while in endurance mode... you just have to keep going through the motions... but it is slow and crippled.

I am going to get all my hair cut off tomorrow. Looking forward to being able to get on the mat without that sweaty swim cap wrapped around my noggin for a while. I'm thinking about getting a Marine cut next month right before PSG. If I got a Marine cut and dropped ten pounds, I don't think my Evil Twin and I would be able to tell OURSELVES apart.

Bullfight

There is an incredible difference between those who experience their power only though the mind and those who also feel it in the body. A person who knows there is a wild wolf living under the skin has less reason to be intimidated by reality. -Daniele Bolelli, On The Warrior’s Path




(Wednesday)
Carlos had us run laps and do sideways shuffles during warmups on Tues; I had been worried about what that would do to my plantar fasciitis. Now I know. My right heel in particular hurt pretty bad that evening, when I got up in the morning and took one step, I nearly did a face plant. It felt like stepping on a knife. I too 2 ibuprofen immediately. I  had to walk to work, and I limped all the way. It actually hurt too much to grit my teeth, ignore it and walk normally... and I did try.... which was humbling and scary. After a day on my feet at work, it was still painful but I was able to walk almost normally back to the car. I don't know what I'm going to do about this, but it seems that it is 1)not going to just go away, and 2)serious enough that I am not going to be able to ignore it forever.

I had planned to go to class Wednesday evening, but it appears that I may be catching Dana's cold. Between the exhaustion and the possibility of being contagious, I decided against it. I completely forgot that Thursday is a "holiday" and there will be no classes at any BG pod- dang it.
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(Friday)
Evening BJJ at Bothell.

Bullfight guard pass.

Passing spider guard by grabbing insides of pants at ankles, slamming opponent's ankles together, and finishing as with the bullfight pass.

Standing guard pass: push opponent's legs to hir chest and see if s/he is so foolish as to push back. If so, you slam hir feet to the floor, leap over them and take front mount. This is one of Cindy's favorite moves. Simple but effective.

Open guard pass drills; cross grip, pull the leg, go to side, KOB.

King of The Hill from open guard.

Then a few spars.

There's a really good blue belt there who ran a clinic on me, then ran one on Will too (after which I didn't feel quite so bad).

James got his first stripe! I did some KOTH with him tonight, and he has been working hard and improving.
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I made a concoction with wild rice, mushrooms, cheese, a cubic buttload of onion and garlic, and occasional random chicken breast and/or bacon snippets. Got out my little  baby-size tupperware cups, portioned, froze. That OD of onion and garlic does seem to help curb the munchies a bit. I also saw an interesting idea involving egg (and possible mushrooms, onions, cheese, etc) baked in a cupcake tin to make little muffin-shaped portions. I will do that next. The Safeway Bargain Bin has yielded me a goldslide of turkey breast slices that may work well in the egguffins.

I was kinda chagrined at how I looked photographed beside my Evil Twin- who is a personal trainer (dietician? Something like that) and in PERFECT shape. It is basically staring at exactly what I look like when I'm *not* carrying a spare 13.5 lb- so that's actually a good motivation. We'll look even more alike next year when I have my act together a little better. She was eating very healthy and clean even at the festival. I'll do the daily pushups with her next year as well.

I had eaten at an onsite vendor 3 times this year- which I have formerly NEVER done. I am way too cheap; and my hours (and thus hungry times) are too weird; and with no fridge or microwave, I can't control portions. One of my 3 splurges was a hot dog, and that was one **GROSS* hot dog- I won't do that again! The other two were chicken wraps at Phil's Grill. Not a vast amount of chicken, but plenty of garlic, rice, black beans, onion, mushrooms, I'm not sure what else. It was delicious- but truly, had I been at home, I would have divided that wrap into at *least* two portions and maybe as many as 4. It was huge. So yeah, that's not really a good idea for me.

I need to advance-plan a better dietary situation for next year's trip. I wonder if I can just walk up and down the road heralding for two volunteers to come split a chicken wrap with me.
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Read through the problem portions of my WIP last night, and I'm still not having any lightning-strike notions on how to improve it. So I went ahead and worked a little on the next section. If my maple-syrup-in-wintertime pace continues, I may well lose my beta reader, which would suck- so I'm trying to not let it moulder for too long.

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One thing I didn't include in my "Hunting" writeup was the odd thing that happened in the opening rit.

I have been told by multiple independant sources that I appear to grow significantly in height on the occasions that I lead the Sacred Hunt drumming. A couple of people mentioned to me this year that I had also appeared much taller while functioning as Huntmistress. I have never perceived this phenomenon myself; although I was definitely putting on my "leader" hat glamour- which may come across in that way to some. I did not lead the drum procession for the opening rit. I was not in any official leadership position whatsoever at the moment. Thus there was no obvious explanation for why I grew a foot taller while I was standing in the drumline after we got to the circle.

After a lifetime of looking up at everyone, I suddenly realized that I was on eye level or higher with almost all of the people milling past me. Including people that I know quite well and am damn sure are significantly taller than myself. I was actually looking DOWN on some of them. I could see the parts in their hair. It was the most bizarre feeling. (No, I was not on any substances at all- I don't do substances- unless you count caffeine or antihistimines- neither of which I was on that evening.)

I kept looking down at my feet, thinking I must be standing on a hummock or something- but I wasn't, and the fifteenth-or-so time I looked down didn't change the fact. My body didn't feel like I was standing on a chair. I didn't feel stretched out, or out-of-body, or anything like that. I was just a tall person. I stood there thinking, "So.... this is what it feels like to be six feet tall... maybe six-two. Far out." It would have been really interesting to try some forms in that condition... but I was afraid to move, thinking that if I moved, it would probably go away. It did fade off before I left.

I don't know what this means. If it means anything. I actually did do a little Hunt-patterned drumming in that rit, but I'm not sure if that had anything to do with it.
 

Standing guard passes

The personality of those who know how to come in contact with this dimension changes even in everyday life, during the ordinary state of consciousness. It changes the way we move. It changes the way we speak. It changes the way we face life. -Daniele Bolelli, On The Warrior’s Path


Tuesday advanced class at Bellevue.

Standing guard pass: pinch your knees together and drop them on either side of opponent's matward knee. Underhook opponent's top leg and press it to your ear as you lie on top of hir and grab the back of hir collar with that same hand. Your other hand has the pants at the knee (oh boy, yet another opportunity for me to forget to keep hold of the pants!). Flop onto your hip and remove your trapped leg. (If this is difficult, use your pants grip to shove opponent's leg out as far as possible while pulling your lower body the other way. This will wishbone the opponent's legs.) I always want to sprawl low to side control here, but tonight Carlos had us use Shoulder Of Justice and tuck up under opponent's butt, forcing hir into a cheese-curl position. I found- from having this done to me- that it makes me want to roll away from the opponent. If your opponent should be so foolish, take hir back.

Same entry, only now opponent puts up a knee shield. Grab the pants (you now have TWO pants grips) and thrust the leg away as you turn your torso to allow the knee to slide past you. It's all about the torso turn- otherwise you end up fighting your arm to hir leg, and you know who's gonna lose that battle. The end is similar to previous technique.

Lots of drills, then two rolls- with Kevin (who is now a purple belt!) and Ross. Although I was suffering in the intense heat, I was competitive with both of them tonight.

Neither Kevin or I got a tap, although I set up a few submission attempts that were really close (extra brownie points to me for attempting to set up an omoplata, triple brownie points for having the presence of mind to attempt to transition to an armbar when that failed). 

Everything that Ross got on me, he tried a second time and I was able to defend the second attempt. We each got one tap.

I got some good feedback on my WIP- "good" meaning not "Wow, you're Hemingway" but "good" as in "here's a glaring problem for you to repair". I see the problem, but am not quite sure yet how to fix it. It's simmering on my left front brain burner, though.

Finished "Night Circus"- it was pretty good, especially for a debut novel. I have another Rory Miller on reserve at the library. I'm so happy that I finally got a library card. Coincidentally, I was hearing on Mythic Scribes that Barnes & Noble is circling the drain, so I thought I'd better get in there are use up some gift certificates. As much as I'm enjoying my new Kindle- and I really am- there's just nothing like walking into a big B&N with a handful of gift cards and walking out many hours later with a heavy bag. Between the library, the Kindle and my Barnes & Noble spree, I am drowning in good things to read.

Hunting

There's no jiu jitsu in this (unless you count the fact that I TALKED about jiu jitsu a little bit to a couple of people during the week).  Feel free to skip it. In fact, if you are not Pagan, this post will surely convince you that I am either going to burn in hell or that I need to be measured for a nice white jacket that will let me hug myself (if you weren't already convinced of such). I'm not really supposed to talk about the Hunt..... but since only about 2 people read my blog, and even those 2 will likely not be interested in reading about THIS, I don't think it really matters. This blog is mostly for my own processing purposes.


I'm probably going to remember more details later and sprinkle them into future posts, but here's the gist.....

As previously mentioned, Darian and Finn had their virgin burn. I do a little streamer poi, enough to appreciate how hard they have been practicing. The entire Herald Camp went down to watch and cheer, even though Du could barely stand up (more on that later). The boys were so excited, and thrilled at all the attention they were getting from us.

Pathwalker, who normally brings my tent for me, could not be there this year- to the disappointment of many. He sent my tent along with a friend. On day one, I saw him out of the corner of my eye and did a triple-take. Someone had made a life-size cardboard cutout and dressed it in the clothes that Pathwalker typically wears. He had one hand up with a little shelf attached so that you could put a beer or a tamborine in his hand. It was hysterical. Flatwalker went to all of the events that he normally attends. He stood on stage at the welcome meeting, led the opening rit procession, drummed in all of the morning meetings (except the morning after Pan's Ball.... he must have been sleeping it off under a bush somewhere), stood on stage at the Tuatha Dea concert wearing one of their T-shirts and playing the mandolin (I didn't know Pathwalker could play the mandolin!). He was at the Carpenter's Ball and the Hunt. Everyone was getting their pics taken with him. At one point, he fell over, and the med staff came roaring out in their golf cart to put him on a stretcher and give him CPR.

With the lack of Pathwalker, a few other people were tapped to lead ritual drum processions. I was not one of them. Of the two I attended, they were- shall we say- well, mistakes were made.

My plantar fasciitis remains moderately painful in my right heel. I was able to ignore it and do my job- I'm good at that- but that combined with my patello-femoral syndome knee pain made the prospect of doing any dancing wince-able. I did get in a couple of careful sessions of Extreme Contact Improv For Martial Artists with Eric, which was wonderful.

We only had one day of torrential rain, but there was a hideous windstorm the first night. I was certain a tornado was bearing down on me- it was that loud. I got out of the tent (not wanting a tree bough to come down on me and pin me in there) and squatted in the bushes in the dark for an hour until it started to die down.

My Evil Twin and I had a lot of fun this year. I had brought us matching tank tops that said (respectively) "Not Kitsune" and "Not Jo". You didn't even have to know us to get the joke, you just had to look at us. We look and act exactly alike when we're not trying, so it was eerie when we *were* trying. We walked around together, mimicked one another's positions, and halfway through the morning meeting, we switched chairs. She got up and made my Heralding announcement at the meeting, then we sat there straight-faced like nothing had happened. We couldn't decide if it would be funnier if people noticed, or if they FAILED to notice.

Unfortunately, I ate like a sow all week. I'm not even gonna weigh myself for a while.

Cute little frogs- smaller than your pinkie fingernail.

Gorgeous full moon. Even better reflected on the lake. With firespinning on the beach. See pic.

To my dismay, I spent two nights dreaming about Autumn 2011. I did put that situation on the Hunt fire- with moderately more resolve than I did so last year. It seems that I'm still not quite ready to move on from that, although I am somewhat more firm about *wanting* to move on from that.

Sacred Hunt- there are some things that I wish had gone better, but that is always true. It's a tradition for us to sit around Herald Camp and obssess about all the things that we think we phucked up.... then we go to the post-mortem workshop, and hear that everyone loved it and that they got what they needed... so then we sigh in relief and say, "I guess we pulled it off again."

The good:

Our problem drummer from last year- whom I was going to have to take aside and evict if he appeared, and which confrontation I have been dreading all year- did not show up to the event (although he was at the festival). I think he saw that Dru was coordinating drumming again this year, and didn't want to deal with her any more than she wanted to deal with him.

I was camped right behind the Crone Temple Of Wisdom this year. I decided to barge into one of their meetings and ask them to pass the hunt horn around their circle to bless it, which they did.

Cindy filled in for Pathwalker as the fire keeper. She did him proud (as I knew she would).

Our coordinating team was 6-out-of-9 female this year. Girl Power!

Finn Villaged for the first time. This made three Hunt coordinators plus three additional Herald Camp people. Herald Camp is truly taking over the Hunt. Darian wants to be in it next year, as well.

Herald Camp dolled me up- Margaret did a wild Celtic braided and ponytailed updo with my hair, and Thalia painted my face (black/red/silver). I asked her to accentuate my eyes- I wanted people to be able to see my expressions, but not recognize me. I got a lot of good feedback on this.

As I entered the circle through the chute of villagers, I was moved to put my hands out to both sides and touch them all as I went though.

As the Hunters entered the circle, I was waiting across the fire. This was the first time they had seen me (aside from a silent horned silhouette in the dark at the vigil). They entered and circled up at the fire, about 3 min apart. As each one came to the fire, I moved so that we were on opposite sides of the pit and stared hir down for the full three minutes. OMG, did that ever rattle their shit. ((evil giggle))  At least two of them were ex-military. One of these said in the post-mortem that I had scared the crap out of him. There was only one out of the 11 who would meet my eyes even briefly. I think this was my favorite part of the entire thing. When Bo came down after the final Hunter, I did the same thing to him- I didn't recognize him until he started speaking.

The bad:

I spent literally hours in the sun-blasted field behind the parking lot trying to learn how to blow Bo's hunt horn. That horn and I did not click. I figured it would take some practice, but I know I have the lungs for it- and I play bass clarinet. Eventually it got to where I could get a good sound about 6 out of every 7 blows. On the night of the Hunt, my first blast was perfect. Every one after that sounded like a water buffalo after the Elks Club Community bean dinner. This is a small thing, but it galled me because 1)I had put a lot of work into the effort; 2)my personal power (especially at PSG) is very sound-oriented... heralding and drumming; and 3)It ruined a dramatic moment. Nothing like looming up out of the woods with my face all glitter and blood, meeting a Hunter's eyes across the torch, having a fierce and intense staredown, sweeping the horn dramatically to my lips, embodying a badass warrior goddess, and then: weak bovine farting sound. Anticlimactic to say the least. If I do this again, I'm going to need to find my own hunt horn in time to get at least a few weeks of practice in.

Dru's lieutenant fell down on the job. I saw her with her head tipped back, eyes shut and jaw slack. She knows better. I don't know what the hell was going on with her. When I asked Dru later, Dru said she had been zoned out for much of the time. Inexcusable even had she *not* been the backup leader. I'm pushing for Michael, Bart or my Evil Twin as drum lieutenant next year.

All of the Hunters were Hunt virgins. I was fascinated to see how this would turn out. However, it did seem to negatively affect the way the Hunters play off each other. Bo and I were both of the opinion that we should give first dibs to people who had not had the chance to do it before. Yet now I'm feeling like it would be a good idea to try to avoid an all-virgin group of Hunters in the future.

The site is suboptimal. There really isn't anywhere else for us to go, though, so we're stuck with it. The cars passing on the road didn't bother me this year, but the Hunters were too spread out. There were 8 on the left side, and only the nearest three or four of those were visible at all from the circle. It made it really difficult for the Villagers to adequately work with them, as well as intensifying the aforementioned problems of the interaction between the Hunters themselves. Those farmost four on the left were impossible for me and Bo to even get to without stepping right on the borders between two other Hunt spaces.  Also, the sweat lodge is seriously in the way.

It seemed to be The Year Of the GPS-challenged Hunter. I blew the horn for one Hunter who immediately lit out in the opposite direction, toward the lake. I had to chase him, holler after him- for a minute I thought I was going to have to tackle him. He got turned around, then went for the stream. Another Hunter took off through the woods in more-or-less the right direction yet nowhere near the path- charged right between two other Hunt spaces, way too close, and I actually lost sight of him for a couple minutes. That was the scariest moment of the night- I was responsible for making sure each of my Hunters got into the circle okay. The most dramatic wrong-way of the night occurred when a Hunter crashed out from right behind the drummers and almost took out my Evil Twin, who was standing on the edge of the bloc. I tried to head him off, but could not.

It was also The Year Of the Downed Hunter. This is a non-speaking ritual, and we don't want to speak to them unless it's absolutely necessary- yet I ended up having to speak to SIX out of the eleven in order to chivvy them back up onto their feet. One was on the ground nearly comatose. At one point he was lying on his back. I got him up to a squat, but he was just hunched in on himself with his head in his arms. He would look at me occasionally, then go back to his fetal position. I couldn't get him up.  A second Hunter- when I found him down and screamed at him to get on his feet, pulled something out of his pocket and waved it at me. I couldn't see what it was, but I thought, "That can't be an inhaler...?" I had told them in the pre-meetings that if they had any medical conditions or other issues, to let me or Bo know. None had come to me with any, and when I asked Bo, he said no one had issues. (I chewed this guy out later for not telling us he had asthma... turns out he had told Bo and Bo apparently forgot to tell me. I apologized and said that I'd chew out Bo... which I still need to do.) This guy took about 2 full minutes to drag himself to his feet upon my command... that was a really powerful thing to watch.

Comatose guy... we didn't know quite what to do with him. When they're down, it can be really hard to figure out what is going on with them. Whether they're still working, or sunk uselessly in emotional trauma, or having a heart attack, or bored. Bo tried to get him up as well, and had no more luck than I did. He decided that we sould call that guy in first. Handed me the horn. No pressure. "What the hell am I going to do if I call him out and he just huddles there?" "Coax him." Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. It was such a temptation to shove this back on Bo... it was kind of a low blow to stick me with that situation for my very first calling-in on my very first Hunt as Huntmistress. But I *was* Huntmistress... this was my job, including coping with the clusterfucks. I took the horn and went. (Fortunately, Comatose Dude looked up when I blew the horn at him... then when I followed this up by thundering "IT'S TIME!!!!!!" He got up and went.

Dru, who has bad knees, collapsed as soon as the rit was over. I had to call Moonfeather (at 1am) and ask her to come over in the golf cart to truck Dru directly from the Hunt space to the med tent, where we spent half the night. Then the med staff trucked her to Herald Camp, where she slept in the dirt on the ground because she could not pull herself into her camper cab. Needless to say, she spent the rest of the week on her ass (we had to threaten to bungee her to her chair) and could not do any more Heralding. I thoroughly embarrassed her in the post mortem by relating the story and having the entire group give her a standing O. She said that I had almost made her cry. This is, incidentally, the second Hunt in a row that has ended with Dru in the med tent. Next year, she is using a chair whether she likes it or not. This will of course make it more difficult for her to charge any drummers. She didn't charge anybody this year, though.

While we were in the med tent, a stroke victim was brought in. The staff was like a kicked anthill, to the point that it scared me... I thought he was dying. Dru and I were sitting there ten feet away, telling each other chicken jokes while we tried to respect his privacy by avoiding looking and listening. The ambulance came, and the paramedics stared at me in my face paint and long Dracula-esque cloak (I had taken the antlers off, at least). The guy was back onsite the next day, on his feet. Great relief.

The interesting:

One of the Hunters took out her tiki torch. Fortunately I was standing right there at the moment, and was able to pick it up and right it before it extinguished or set the woods on fire. Bo came galloping out (putting out your tiki torch is the "emergency signal"). This Hunter was astonished when I told her about this incident in the post mortem. She had no memory of it.

One of the Hunters, every time she caught sight of me, stalked me like a panther along the borders of her space. I was a little anxious that that one was going to physically attack me. She later told me that I was her special challenge all the way through the process (this was also the only one who would make eye contact in the beginning).  She also said that this Hunt was the peak experience of her life. Wowza. To have a hand in that.

I have spent something-teen Hunts confined to a space as wide as my tai-chi-stance feet, and one of the things I was really looking forward to this year was being able to move around the space and get different perspectives. I hadn't taken four steps before I accidentally stepped between a Villager and the Hunter s/he was sending energy to, and it felt like I had stuck my finger in an electrical socket!!! Moving around the ritual space felt like navigating a tangled spider web of laser beams! After that first zap, I looked around carefully to see where people were shooting before I took a step!

The trip home: I just want to say that Alaska Airlines sucks.

When I placed my styrofoam box containing the antler crown on the scale, they said "You can't check anything in styrofoam- it's not adequate packing." Huh? "It's really THICK styrofoam." "Doesn't matter." Well, I knew I wasn't going to get those antlers through security as a carry-on (can't have me hijacking the plane with a bad ol' deer antler), so all I could do was stuff it in the top-loader duffle and hope for the best. The entire styro box wouldn't fit, so I took off the lid and hacked a few inches off the top edge, then packing-taped across the top. Then they made me sign a release saying that I wouldn't sue them when my antler headdress was ruined by being checked with "inadequate packing". WTF??!!? They make me take it out of its perfectly adequate thick styrofoam box and stuff it in a duffle bag, then sign a release because of course it's going to be destroyed? Why can't I just sign a release for the styro box? Wait, there's more. In order to get the hacked-up styro box into the duffle, I had to dump most of my dirty clothes, toiletries and other possessions out on the floor at the ticket counter and try to stuff them into my carry-on and shoulder bag. So I check the duffle and am about to walk away when they go, "You'll have to put that in the sizer (pointing to carry-on)." Of course now it's stuffed just full enough that the wheels won't fit into the sizer. "You'll have to check it. That'll be another $35."   I then proceeded to Security Theater where I declined the naked-picture machine and was forced to submit to being aggressively groped. At least checking the carry-on (with the bell drum inside) saved me from getting my bag rifled this time. They always search my bag when they see that bell drum on the x-ray.

I finally succumbed to Facebook- which I have been resisting all this time- solely because I *NEED* to get feedback from the Hunt participants, and that's just the only way a lot of people will engage you these days. It's been two days, and it has already gotten completely out of control. I "friended" everyone in Herald camp, the other Hunt coordinators,  Tasara and Tiff from Turtle Drum, and a handful of other PSG people that I'm particularly close to.  I was then DELUGED with friend requests from people I know and people I don't know and people I'm not sure I know. I'm the Herald- everyone knows me. Help! I'm drowning in "friends"!  Am I an asshole if I don't want to "friend" these 649 people? I am *NOT* going to get sucked that deeply into Facebook. Am I an asshole if I say- for example, "asshole" in a comment, now that Lilly from Herald Camp (age 10) is my Facebook Friend? (Although Lord knows her parents are some of the worst potty-mouths I've ever heard in my life, LOL...)

I had been looking forward to going back to class on Monday evening- but I had been really struggling with allergies all week, and by the time I left the campground, I had a sinus infection. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Back to work Tuesday. Boss is immediately all up my butt about piccayune stuff, and being sick doesn't help me stuff down the impulse to triangle her.

I have won a Tuckerization in Shirley Meier's current online novel! First I need to catch up on the chapters I missed while I was out of town, but this is going to be exciting!

A disguise to fight in

The best verbal intervention is to present yourself as an objective outsider who has no opinion and doesn’t care about who is right or wrong. Right or wrong are determined by in-group standards in any case. “Break it up! You’re hurting her!” immediately puts you in a position of both being an outsider and judgmental.  “You’d better knock it off, I overheard someone calling 911 and the cops are on the way,” will break up the situation without turning the focus to you.
-Rory Miller



I have been dieting, and as of today have been successful at losing four pounds. Three more, and I will be back to my normal walking-around-weight, which is 10lb over my ideal/tournament weight. My intention is to lose those three- at least- before my June trip. Three pounds doesn't seem like much, esp when you've got 2 months to do it....yet it takes me a frustratingly long time and an incredible amount of food restriction to lose *anything*. Every pound lower takes discernably more effort to  remove than the one before.

Tues lunchtime at GB Bellevue.  Back mount to bow-and-arrow, Round Three!  (Ow!) I focused on speed and flow.  I got Nelson this time. I love working with Nelson. I did make one improvement suggestion to him: when he pulled me into his back mount, he rolled me right over his ankle. My comment: “That’s fine when it’s me, but if you try that with Rene, you’re going to break your ankle.”

He tried to encourage me to chinstrap him harder. I refused.

Per Carlos: while doing turtle-top spins, do not pause to contemplate your arm position while at opponent’s 10 o’clock or 2 o’clock, as I tend to do. Get thee to proper N/S so he can’t get you.

I had a Jack In the Box chocolate shake today, which I shouldn’t have done while trying to lose weight… but my throat really wanted it after all those chokes.

The antlers are here, FINALLY. To my dismay, they are quite a bit larger than they looked in the photo- as well as much heavier than anticipated. Most of the ideas I had for securing them may now be dismissed as foolish fancy. I’m not sure what to do.

WIP......
Let's say you are about to participate in some fighting that- for political reasons- you are really not supposed to be participating in. You're in a little rural village in ancient China and have just a few minutes to come up with some way to disguise your face (and, ideally, your hair) in such a way that is not going to impair you, and you can later remove the disguise so as to profess your innocence of having anything to do with this. You have access to anything you might reasonably find in a small rural village.

Any bright ideas? Comment if so. I'm stuck. I've done a little internet research, but am coming up empty so far. At first I was thinking of having them cover their faces and hair in flour- but that might sweat off during the fighting. Mud is not an option. Someone on Mythic Scribes suggested flour mixed with animal fat or maybe even blood could be improvised face paint, and might look even scarier if it's sweating off some and running down their faces.

Authoring fight scenes

What's your objective? -Raven




I am pleased to report that as of Friday, hiccupping no longer feels like being impaled on a rusty pike.

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Sunday Form Of the Day: Leopard Fist
 
WIP: I wrote most of my 2nd extended fight scene… when I say “extended” I mean described blow-by-blow from start to finish. This fight is not a very lengthy one, though. It- like my first extended fight scene, which was moderately long- is a staff duel. I kind of dread doing fight scenes, because I’m never sure how much or little to describe. As a martial artist, of course, I’m used to paying hella close attention to every little thing, because if I don’t, it results in pain- LOL. I don’t know how quickly “normal” readers get bored with blow-by-blow, though- or how well they can follow, although I think my descriptions are fairly decent. Yet if you are writing “sword and sorcery” genre, you can’t really get away with not talking about ½ of your theme… and if you describe the magic closely, it doesn’t make sense to avoid writing fight scenes.

I’m excited about how one aspect of it turned out. I knew who needed to win, but of course you don’t really want it to be a rout.

One of the things that continually comes up on Jiu Jitsu Forums is the question, “What if you have a legit sub, but the opponent won’t tap?” Do you keep going and choke hir out, or break hir elbow? Or do you just let the sub go? What about practice vs a tournament? Your buddy vs a stranger? A white belt vs an experienced guy?

Now, I’m a very judgmental person, and I usually know exactly how I feel about a question- this one no exception. However, this is one of the rare questions where I can truly see and empathize with the “other” side. Moral grey fascinates me, as I don’t see it very often- again, opinionated here. Readers seem to love moral greyness. There’s been so much talk about that with Game Of Thrones.  As a writer, it certainly sets you up for interesting conflict and dialogue. I’ve been wishing all along that I could get more of it into my writing….. but I just tend to see things so starkly…. and that characteristic is a blockage in my fiction.

So anyway, this particular fight ended in a such a way that we’re not sure if opponent A was being an ass for refusing to surrender to a legitimate winner, or if opponent B was being an ass for refusing to let A go before- well, Something Else happens (but that would be a spoiler!).  I like that, and I like the possibilities it opens up for me later with these characters as well as with other characters who are going to be disagreeing about it. I also like that I was able to put something into my story from direct experience in MA.

I sure wish I could use transcriptions of actual spars I’ve had as a cheat for writing fight scenes.  Unfortunately, while the “white noise” phenomenon is very slowly improving, I still come up mostly blank when I try to recall details of my spars- even immediately afterward. I wonder if I should try to dictate into a mini-mic while I’m rolling.  ;)
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The subversive chocolate gi

It is a historical constant that the strong rule the weak, and any shade of liberty enjoyed by the weak is nothing more than the benevolence of the strong.  You need guns because the world is full of the strong, and not all of them are benevolent. -John Fogh

There it is, the naughty nonregulation chocolate Gracie Barra gi.... along with a gal who thought she was gonna pass my guard by standing up in it.
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On fiction writing:

I think of a first line as the scenery going by in the side window of my car.
I spend a lot of time in the car, and a lot of scenery passes by. Some of it is pretty, some of it is ugly, much of it is redundant and indifferent. It's not until something catches the corner of my eye that makes me go, "???" that I'll turn my head for a double-take.

I want the first line of my stories to have that "???" factor. I can't garantee that you'll like my MC, or find my scenery pretty, or be interested in the fistfight that's going on over in the corner.... But the "???" is universal- and almost irresistable.

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A guy on one of the forums posted his white belt comp vid and asked for advice, because he was due to fight the same opponent again shortly. It was a very interesting exercise for me. I clearly recall not being able to comprehend my own freakin' NAME in my first few tournaments, much less anything intelligent about my game or my opponent's. I watched the vid, and all I saw was an endless list of A)things that the guy was doing wrong, and B)how bext to exploit them. I was able to compile an intelligent list of what I thought the opponent's strengths and weaknesses were, and a handful of simple techniques and plans that seemed like a good bet against him. Wow. I feel like I know what I am doing. Even if my brain still fills up with useless white noise when I'm on the comp mat myself.

I remember watching a knife fight on a TV show years ago, wherein the hero ended up getting stabbed- and I was all excited because with my own knife training, I was able to pick out exactly what the hero had done wrong and what he SHOULD have done instead. This was kinda the same feeling. I like it.

Incidentally, that white belt guy posted vid of his followup comp, and he had tried the two primary techniques I suggested. He didn't pull either of them off, but he recognized the openings and he tried them- and they looked a heck of a lot better than his initial vids. So that's really cool. I feel like I did some good.  :)

Creativity

’Feeling’ other people’s intentions when there is no time  to comprehend is not a special talent reserved for enlightened masters.  Only a bad relationship with our perceptions and a poor regard for our intuition can take this fundamental weapon away from us. Centuries of strict rationalism and skeptical philosophies have contributed to undermine our natural sensitivity. -Daniele Bolelli, On The Warrior’s Path


YOWZAA!!!! Angela has been promoted to brown belt!!!!!!!!!   I'm so excited!!!

Vince got his blue! (He said to me most pathetically just about 2 weeks ago: "I'm *never* going to get a blue belt.")

Friday FOD: Five Animals. Both ways.

Turtle Drum- went well. Several attendees raving about how it sounded like there were voices and extra drums, extra flutes playing, but you'd walk around and realize that what you were hearing was coming from nobody corporeally present. Cool when that happens.

Some guy walked in off the street and played for a while. He obviously knew his way around a drum better than any of us there- he had all the fancy slaps and soloing going; unfortunately he was completely toasted and thus could not really color within the lines very well. He was a very interesting interlude, but I was just as happy when he wandered off again.

We had a couple of dancers- which we don't always have. It's always better with dancers. I hope they come again. I think they were a little freaked out by the wasted guy, though. The perils of running public events.... sigh.

Sunday FOD: Plum Blossom Fist

Spent a lot of time today researching Chinese mythology. The main takeaway- there are some European elements I've been using that I didn't really realize were QUITE that European. But lo and behold, every single one of them has a Chinese counterpart. I didn't really want to make my WIP *too* blatently Chinese because I'm terrified of making gross historical errors, and I didn't really want to do a crap-ton of research.... but I'm starting to slide toward a greater commitment to just ride with it. Definitely lots more research, though.   :(

There seems to be a strong call for more cultural variety in fantasy fiction.... but on the other hand, writing about non-white or non-hetero/non-monogamous characters still apparently makes some readers automatically pass up your story, and makes it harder to find a traditional publisher if you want to go that route.

Still, some of the crap I've seen lately.... As I commented recently on Mythic Scribes, nothing drives me like reading bad fantasy fiction. I read something and think, "I can do better than this... and this got published."

Three days, six classes!

Being one hundred percent present here and now is the talent of a true martial artist. Through the practice of martial arts, we can learn to feel this presence, call upon it, cultivate it, make it a part of ourselves. When we can enter this dimension at will, it becomes possible to have free access to an enormous source of power.
 -Daniele Bolelli, On The Warrior’s Path



Saturday: 131.5 (Don't even ask me how I've gained half a pound with everything I've done in the last two days.... I haven't been eating poorly, either, so I don't understand it.)


Lunchtime BJJ at GB Seattle. I couldn't get moving in time for the basics class, but that's just as well, because I wanted to go to Sleeper later, and three back-to-back classes would probably have been a bit much.

There were about a zillion people on the mat. saturdays really are tending to be crowded lately. Since it was "competition class", it was all positional sparring and timed matches. That female blue belt from yesterday was back, so I was happy to get a chance to roll with her this time. She is 115 pounds! But very strong and technical. It was some really good rolling.

A white belt guy. We were doing pass vs sweep from closed guard, and he sit-up-swept me four or five times, and I couldn't do a thing to stop him. That was frustrating. I passed his guard a few times, but of course I was pretty useless on the bottom.

I was going to take a break after that, and was sitting on the side with my coat off, but there was an odd number and Rodrigo was chivvying me back onto the mat. I can't say no to Rodrigo. Even if I'm tired and I'm being urged to fight ANGELA! Somehow I found a second wind. This was a fun roll too. She plowed me of course, but I'm actually satisfied with my performance against her- I put up a decent fight. I tried really hard to keep moving and transitioning. I even GOT A SWEEP on her. This is a really big deal. She did a takedown from turtle using my shin, three times. I want to learn that one.

I warned Kelly that Amanda, our foe from the Revolution, is likely to be at the small house tournament at the end of the month- Rodrigo has invited her gym. Kelly was not thrilled to hear this.



Sleeper: again, no drills, just working. Balance/sweep exercise with both Cindy and Lamont. Useful tidbit from Lamont: There are certain points that I need to shrimp out onto the side of my hip to get better leverage, which is totally counterituitive. It seemed like doing that was going to result in the both-knees-together-pressed-to-the-side thing that I am also trying to break the habit of. But I could see that his suggestion was working. My brain didn't want to do it that way. I need to retrain that urge.

Two or three matches against Jalen- inlcuding one starting from standup. Again, competitive and fun. As usual, I spent more time in controlling positions, but he tapped me a few times and I didn't get any on him. He really does not try for top side control, front mount, KOB, or anything like that. He is not looking for points, he's all about the sub. He doesn't fart around getting them set up, they pop out of nowhere with no warning. If I was fighting him for real, I'd need to focus on defending his subs and try to win on points. He doesn't get me with the orthodox stuff, he gets me with the wrestling moves and Cindy's weird sneaky tricks. He *so* has Cindy's fingerprints all over his technique. Also, he is very explosive. He often surprises me and gets the drop on me with the suddenness of his moves. He takes a lot of crazy chances- sometimes they pay off, but sometimes he ends up doing things like reversing himself or pulling me past his own guard.

Jalen sit-up-swept me a couple of times, which really frustrated me, after having that done to me repeatedly this morning by that white belt guy. Getting sit-up-swept has become a sensitive sore spot for me. For some reason it makes me feel particularly ineffectual and helpless. I need to ask someone to show me some counters for that.

I didn't last very long today. It was good to get a little gi followed by no-gi, but I was really noticing the limits of my gas tank.

It was really nice to see Lamont after so long. I showed him the pic from the last Revolution, where Prof Carlos is lying spread-eagled on the floor with his coat askew, and Lamont (wearing his Sleeper t-shirt) is standing right behind his head in an authoritative pose that- with a little imagination and perhaps a suggestive caption- could make it look like Lamont downed the prof. We all had a laugh over that.

Run-through of Sil Lum Tao- just because for some reason I felt like doing that today.



Sunday: 132.0 Are you kidding??!? It as a truly perverse world we live in when you can do six BJJ classes in three days, eat right, and GAIN weight. This is frustrating.

The creative writing challenge on Mythic Scribes seemed to have withered and died. I had been on the edge of my seat waiting to see what the other writers would do with the rich fodder I'd tossed them, and was really disappointed that no one seemed up for the challenge. It finally dawned on me that perhaps some of them didn't find my spin on it quite as amusing as I myself did. So I posted and asked them, and to my chagrin, it was true- at least a couple of them thought I'd been offensive and inappropriate to write certain things I'd written about other people's characters. Rats. I still don't think I did anything out of line, but obviously some of us just wanted different things out of the project which turned out to to not be happily aligned objectives. In my mind, part of the fun of writing in a "shared universe" type of format is that you get to F with other people's characters, and then we all have to get creative with the hands we are dealt. I didn't really stop to think that some artists are very touchy about creative control. You really need to loosen up about that if you're going to work effectively on collaborative projects... but admittedly perhaps I skewed a little too far in the opposite direction.

I apologized profusely and repeatedly, deleted everything, and withdrew from the project, but my creative ego feels bruised. One of them was *REALLY* PO'ed that I had killed off a tertiary character of hers that she apparently had had big plans for later, and posted (among a lot of other prickly commentary) that she intends to ignore the "crap" I wrote about her characters. Ouch. I think any artist would be wounded to hear another artist refer to her work as "crap". That hurt. Although this is truly small fish next to some of the REAL problems in my life right now, this was an unpleasant interlude.