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Palindromedary
Level 5: 859 points
Last Logged In: February 16th, 2014
TEAM: The Disorganised Guerilla War On Boredom and Normality TEAM: Society for the Superior Completion of Tasks TEAM: San Francisco Zero TEAM: SCIENCE! TEAM: Run-of-the-mill taskers TEAM: MATHEMATICS TEAM: LØVE TEAM: SF0 Skypeness! TEAM: Society for the Restoration of Zombie History TEAM: Verbosely Loquacious Overelaberators BART Psychogeographical Association Rank 2: Trafficker The University of Aesthematics Rank 4: Neoplasticist Humanitarian Crisis Rank 1: Peacekeeper Biome Rank 1: Hiker








15 + 7 points

Mihi by Palindromedary

September 14th, 2009 2:00 AM / Location: 38.470709,-123.0273

INSTRUCTIONS: In Maori culture, when you formally introduce yourself in a meeting house it is called a "Mihi". You tell people your canoe, tribe, sub-tribe and family, but you ALSO identify specific geological features to which you "belong". For example, "your" lake, mountain, river, forest etc.

Chose at least three geographical features that you consider "yours". Document them.

My Tower:

I once lived in a valley miles away from civilization. My consolations were books, cards to build houses with, acres to hike on, and at the onset of teenagerdom video games. One of my favorite landmarks was an old limestone kiln. A limestone kiln is a structure of a type that was in antique times used to process quicklime. Ours was made of the local stone and looked something like a castle turret. It took most of the day to hike to, but any time I could persuade the locals to make the trek to our ranch I took them there, got them to go in even after the entrance had halfway caved in. I loved it even more than the hammock I made out of braided hay bale ropes, or the junkyard that I used like giant rusty legos. Unfortunately I have no pictures from this time in my life outside of my curly head.

My River:

And then I lived in a house- halfway on stilts, halfway off- that shook whenever the dryer ran. The house overlooks a river that flooded up to the bottom of the stairs most winters. I lived halfway up the stairs, the year after I left the water rose high enough to cover the bottom foot of my room in water. I used to sit out on our porch and watch things float by. Once there was a dock with a staircase still attached. We lost a kayak to that river. Then gained two more back, and a surfboard. I remember having a rope tied around my waste so I could paddle out rapidly to an island that had one of our boats stranded on it. And chasing after an oversized flotation device that looked like a gigantic purple and yellow donut, finally catching it after cutting my ankle an the window of a sunken car. I remember pulling myself and a kayak back along the shore for an hour by various weeds because the current was too strong to row against. My blood is in that river and that river is in my blood.

My Park:

Now I have returned to my native San Francisco. I live in a part I never knew existed before, the outer sunset. A part of the city so safe that you can leave a working TV on the curb for a month and it will not be taken or destroyed (except possibly by the dew). I live next to a dog park. After midnight it is mine, the whole length of it. Many is the time I've jogged in the moonlight, the conversation I've had as I jumped from bench to bench. In a section of my mind it is the courtyard of my castle.

- smaller

device.jpg

device.jpg

My riverfather is an inventor of sorts- and when he works with electricity- occasionally shorts.


corral.jpg

corral.jpg

Don't worry. They let me out for Christmas.


march_river.jpg

march_river.jpg

I remember trees...


prow.jpg

prow.jpg

Off to pillage, of course.


stick.jpg

stick.jpg

I did not know then that on the other side of that fog was San Francisco.


tree_fence.jpg

tree_fence.jpg

My courtyard is surrounded by a high wall.


greenery.jpg

greenery.jpg

Green was the inspiration for my park's color scheme.


awning.jpg

awning.jpg

I'll move on past the awning quickly. If I went into me abiding love for it I'd have you all yawning...


benches.jpg

benches.jpg

Conveniently arranged in a semi-circle for the ease of the obsessive geometric pacer.


bouncy.jpg

bouncy.jpg

To my great regret there isn't usually a bouncy castle in my park. But to be accurate all these pictures should be taken at night anyway, when my camera doesn't work. Oh well, cool picture of a bouncy house. How could I resist?



2 vote(s)



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2 comment(s)

I'm sadly vote-point-less +1
posted by susy derkins on September 22nd, 2009 10:29 PM

Contagious nostalgia, life reminding us that there is all this range beyond the domesticated urban kind. Those pictures from inside your head are surprisingly well kept, after all these years.

your riverfather and "obsessive geometric pacer", wow

a comment from you brightens my day more than a 5
posted by Palindromedary on September 23rd, 2009 1:05 PM

Thank you.

I spend more times in those pictures than I do in this domesticated urban range.

I have 4 mothers and 2 fathers.
My riverfather, who you've met.
My stonefather. He works with stone to make jewelry and knives. His heart is made of stone, and to top it all off his name is 'Peter'.
My shymother. Behind it all there is nothing she can't relate to, she has great strength none of which she acknowledges. She has seen and done amazing thins but casts herself always in the supporting role.
My funnymother. She calls herself by many names. She is threatened only by people she cannot make laugh.
My buddhamother. She is the most financial successful of all my parents, and also the most generous. She gives more and gets more, an inspiration.
My hippiemother. She teaches, draws, and makes jewelry for her living. Tall, serene, tolerant, and tough.