nonblog # o.o (a tag game)

                                                                    me, the first year



Tagged by Tim
, and gitanjali,

I want to cut to the chase and not wait to learn what it takes to comply with The Rules.

THE RULES:
1. Link to the person's blog who tagged you.

2. Post these rules on your blog.

3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

Weird facts about me: (weird is easy, "facts" is hard)

1. I grew up in a "mirrored" family.  ( what brought this up was being tagged by a Las Vegas resident )  When I was born a friend of my mom's adopted a boy, just like this friend had done after the birth of my older brother a year earlier. And just like she did two years later after my younger brother was born. With each adoption my mother would add the photos of the new children, sent by the friend, to our own family photo album. This other family is/was the family of long time Las Vegas Mayor Goldman.

2. At age 10 I sat down to a piano and "just started playing". What I didn't tell anybody until years later is that while I was doing that I was aware of a spirit-ghost-light being-thing standing behind me to the right. What's weird to me now is that, a few years after that I researched and found that I happen to be a great,great,great nephew of Schubert and that I had held some strong opinions as to what ol' Franz should have done differently.

3.  Having the task of tagging 7 next bloggers reminds me that, in my first serious romance, before she and I knew oneanother we both knew seven others who we considered friends who, among themselves, did not know each other.

4. Living in a cabin in forest, not having heard a radio for weeks I turned one on about twelve seconds after the Challenger disaster. Debre was still in the air and the impulse to link to the collective grabbed me.

5. While Yeltsin was standing on a tank durring the Moscow coup, I was (again without radio, in a cabin that had been the arts and crafts cabin for the children of UN diplomats ) writing a letter about democracy and atonalism to the friend who composed the first piece performed by the Berlin Philharmonic after the wall fell. The imagry that I was processing while writing that letter felt, when compared to the news the next day, like a direct feed. That was weird.

6. At a monastery I had this difficult to shake reputation for 'reading minds'. Unknown to me, confirmed by others. As far as I was concerned I was just saying what occured to me. A year after leaving I was called back to find something that none of the monks could locate. I had no idea where it was either. The abbot had a kind of faith that I could find it. I did. 'Slept on it' and the next day, walked right up to it.

7. This I wrote about in the Multiplex. I started working in the north tower of the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2000. From that first day at work I would, while in between tasks, or walking the hallways, silently chant an old sanskrit dharani, The Gatha on Averting Calamity (Sho Sy Myo Kichi Jo Dharani). Mid Aug. '01, I left NYC for Santa Fe.

I've yet to tag. I'll get to it.

Days later: On second thought I'd rather quote Siona's mom, "I won't tag anyone in particular but invite anyone to tag themselves", who said what I meant to.


K