Happy Thanksgiving 2014!

"What shall we do for Thanksgiving?" Ping posed the question, and, just as quickly, she answered it. "We'll get everything from the Beitou Market!" Here's what it was like hunting for Thanksgiving fixings here in Beitou this morning (while maybe doing a little anticipatory "Black Friday" shopping).

Here goes Ping in search of turkey.

Mmm! DOUGHNUTS! Stay on task, Mark. Stay on task.

Turkey...turkey...wait, that's chicken!

Duck? Chicken? Whatever. Fowl enough.

Gotta have corn on the cob!

Oh, yeah! Candied yams! Hot & ready!

Are chestnuts too "Christmas-y" for Thanksgiving?

Pumpkin? No pumpkins? Is squash the same Genus?

Finally! Dessert! I'll take six of each, please.

It's the morning of "Black Friday Eve!"
Let the shopping begin!

Ping scores an early Black Friday deal...wait, they don't do
"Black Friday" here! It's a deal, nonetheless: two pretty scarves
for NT$100 (about $3.24 USD)!

So what are we having for Thanksgiving dinner tonight? Um, probably Costco pizza!!
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Lost Gloves

Most likely, I was removing layers. I was a little too hot and had to pull off my waterproof shell, take off my fleece inner jacket, roll it up, cinch the stuff sack and stow it in the backpack, and then put the shell back on before I got cold again. I think I got that right. I just missed one detail.

Oxygen scarcity is deceptive. We think we're managing just fine. But sometimes, in the altitude, little things get missed.

Somewhere out there, I lost a well-worn, well-loved pair of gloves. They weren't even gloves, really, just glove liners--black, lightweight, just warm enough to ward off the chill. It's hard to explain how much they meant to me. They smelled of deep woods, rock and snow, and I was happy every time I wore them.

I'd had this particular pair for over 15 years. That's a lot of miles, a lot of elevation, a lot of effort, and a lot of exploring: the Cascades, the Wallowas, the Sawtooths, the Rockies, the Sierra Nevada...

So if I had to lose these gloves, it was only fitting that they end up beside a rocky trail, at about 15,000' in the Tibetan Autonomous Region. Back when I bought them, I had only dreamed of such places.

I'll be back--if not to this trail, then to another one. As usual, I'll bring a spare pair of gloves. That old pair is probably buried under heavy snow by now.

還債還是造福

該寫一點中文的東西了。

在台灣，常常聽到“前世欠的，此世還債”的說法。
我總覺得這樣的想法有點忽略了重點，而且沒完沒了，令人心情沉重。

就我有限的了解，目前的小小看法是 -
我們生生世世不斷地角色互換，為的是靈的充實與擴展。每一個人生沒有別人幫忙，自己一個人也沒戲唱。有趣的是宇宙的運行十分奧秘。幾個簡單的自然法則奇妙地維繫所有的平衡，無論是有形的或是無形的，保證公平，完全不需要我們來論定。所以說出現在我們生命的人不但是我們的合作夥伴，還是患難之交。多一點感恩的心，誰也不欠誰。

人生唯一的保證是無常，我們只能帶著好奇心一步接著一步走。至於這條路好不好走，好不好玩，往往是一念之差。生氣怨嘆是自己的選擇。能多原諒，嘗試多元性的想法，往往會意想不到地化凶為吉。多多把握讓自己開心，他人開懷的機會，幸福隨時相隨。

我是這麼想的。你呢？
希望有緣人都能體驗一個無怨無悔，豐富精彩的人生！

Mark's "10 Books That Have Stuck With Me" (plus a Bonus Book)

There's a challenge going around on Facebook: "name 10 books that have stuck with you." Once I made my own list, I really wanted to say why these books have had such an impact. Here goes, in no particular order:

1. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C.S. Lewis)
This was my first introduction to fantasy. I was four years old. My favorite memory of my grandfather is the sound of his gravelly voice as he read this book out loud to us kids. My imagination ran wild, and it's never stopped running.

2. Use Case Driven Object Modeling With UML - A Practical Approach (Rosenberg & Scott)
This book arrived right when I needed it. The inimitable Meilir Paige-Jones had just taught me how--and why--to do use case and data modeling using the Universal Modeling Language (UML). Suddenly, relationships, processes and even the meanings of words could be diagrammed! This very practical book kept those ideas handy, while warning me (over and over!) that analysis was neither an end in itself nor a reasonable excuse for delaying the project.

3. The Fellowship of the Ring (J.R.R. Tolkien)
I'd heard the praises of Tolkien extolled for years before I finally read his books. This one still stands out as having the greatest influence on my writing. When I started my own fantasy novel, it was a LONG time before I could finally stop imitating the true "Lord of the Rings" and find my own voice. This opening book in the trilogy is still the standard by which I measure fantasy writing.

4. The State of the Presidency (Cronin)
I don't remember who gave me a copy of this relatively small book, but it completely changed my understanding of government. Cronin's assessment of how different U.S. presidents viewed and handled the demands of the Oval Office gave me food for thought. It was sort of my transition to political "solid food," stuff I had to chew on awhile before digesting it. After reading this book, I started thinking more for myself, and asking a lot more questions.

5. Beyond Backpacking (Ray Jardeen)
Appalachian Trail and PCT through-hiker Jardeen rattled my preconceptions of what it takes to get from Point A to Point B on foot. I discovered I'd made a lot of assumptions based on impression, rather than hard experience. Opinionated and colorful, Jardeen helped me rethink my approach to gear, food and, especially, footwear.

6. Roadside Geology of Washington/Oregon/California (3 books) (Alt & Hyndman)
The earth moves! Tectonic plates slip over and under each other, sub-continents slam into continents, granite melts its way into basalt and continues to rise long after cooling, and massive glacial ice dams crack and give way, sending a 300-foot high wall of water dashing across the Northwest, scraping away at everything in its path until it barrels down the Columbia Gorge and gushes out into the Pacific! Volcanoes! Andesite! Gneiss! Schist! Alt and Hyndman map out and explain in plain language some of the awesome geology which is observable from the road in all three Pacific states.

7. Cradle to Cradle (McDonough & Braungart)
Tom Lambert's recommendation of this book sent me on a journey that will never stop. An architect and a chemist, talk about how there is no "away" when we throw things away. We say "cradle to grave," but we need to think "cradle to cradle." They distinguish true "recycling" from our usual "downcycling." They posit that we don't have a production problem: we have a design problem. What if all of our systems, living spaces and products were designed to parallel the characteristics and functions of a tree? In short: "Take the toxins out of the system; waste is food; then produce, produce, produce!"

8. Norman Rockwell, Illustrator (Guptill, et al.)
Of all the books in my parents' house when I grew up, this was the one I looked at the most, I think. Rockwell's visual storytelling ability, his meticulous draftsmanship, and his love of character greatly influenced my art. While he was the consummate portrait artist, his ability to include accurate environmental details was astounding. My subject matter is different, but I still strive to incorporate such craftsmanship.

9. Let Your Life Speak (Palmer)
Parker J. Palmer quietly talks about what it really means to be authentic. In a world that values status, acquisitions and achievements, Palmer ruminates on what it means to follow an original path. I love his story about stewing over whether or not he should take a position as president of a college. His Quaker group listened to his dilemma until he was done speaking. After a time of quiet, someone asked why he wanted the job. Palmer realized that what he really wanted was to see the word "President" under his picture. After some more quiet, the person asked, "Is there an easier way to do that?"

10. Complete Poems and Plays (T.S. Eliot)
This was my very first college textbook. The class was taught by the wonderful Dr. McCreery, an elegant woman, articulate and erudite, who spoke and acted with the grace of another era, and yet somehow managed to be unpretentious. Who better to introduce me to the poet who would shape my understanding of the power of words? I wrote reams of thoughtful-yet-blathering, free-form verse, much of it morose, most of it hardly readable even at the time, but the experience was great practice. By exploring T.S. Eliot, Dr. McCreery showed me how good poetry could be appreciated on the first reading, and yet only reveal its innermost secrets to those who follow the poet through the same literary landscape that informed the writing. My metaphors may never be as deep, but I thank Mr. Eliot for giving me so many valuable examples, just out of reach.

Bonus book:
11. The Pale Green Pants and Other Stories (Dr. Seuss)
Our family had a recording of someone reading this book back when I was in Junior High. I wish I knew who it was--he was outstanding! I used to play the tape on the stereo while I lip-synced and mimed the stories. I'll still perform "The Pale Green Pants" from memory now, sometimes despite entreaties to desist. Second only to T.S. Eliot, Dr. T.S. Geisel has also had a profound influence on my poetry. He never failed to be both creative and strictly true to form. To me, that's important, and Dr. Seuss showed it was possible--even if words had to be made up. You see, I firmly believe that...

Rhyming and meter can always be done well,
Provided the poem is truly begun well;
And endings, you know, should be given a twist--
A remarkable sleight-of-hand flick of the wrist!--
And leave you, dear reader, in breathless delight.
(Well, that's what I hope for when starting to write.)
Yet, often I find that the poet is lazy.
He won't pay attention; his meaning is hazy.
The rhyming, the timing, the rhythm is wrong.
You wouldn't--you COULDN'T--put that in a song,
For no one would sing it! I mean, who would want to
When so many words are stacked over and onto
Each other--Oh, brother! I've done it again.
I guess I'll stop writing and put down my pen.
(MIC - September, 2014)

Grandmas On Our Street

Some days are more difficult than others. Yesterday was one of those.

I felt stuck, lost, and frustrated that I don't seem to contribute in any visible way. Then I remembered our neighborhood grandmas.

Are We There Yet?

People often ask, "Why did you quit your career?"
I don't know if I have a good answer. The short answer is: passion for authenticity.

Also people asked, "Why did you move to Taiwan?"
Well, it's not an accident. Before the move, we figured that the food is good in Taiwan, they have a great national health care system, the people seem nice, and one of my parents liked the idea; plus,

Impermanence

(Image borrowed from the Web)

Back in 1989, Don Henley wrote a song that has stuck with me ever since. (Full lyrics here) "New York Minute" brings the human condition into sharp focus:

Everything is impermanent. Everything.

This is not just happening to everyone else. It's personal. Henley points that out with every scenario in the song. His opening to the last stanza has become a touchstone for me over the years.

What the head makes cloudy
The heart makes very clear

I tend to over-think things, often heading down a path that leads me away from the goodness right in front of me. l seem to think that I can logically predict what comes next. Rarely have I been proven right, and if I do apparently get it right, "everything can change in a New York minute."

Good or bad, whatever is happening right now can change in a New York minute. That's not just a message of desperation. It's also a message of hope.

When I fully appreciate impermanence, I more easily recognize the richness of this particular day.

May my heart make that very clear.

I Wander

Convict Lake, California

Experts offer life improvement tips and tricks all the time. After having read quite a bit of their advice, I've discovered that they almost always contradict each other. It's almost as if "one man's poison is another man's medicine." 

So rather than fussing with other people's ideas, attempting to replicate their life lessons, I concluded that I am better off finding my own way.

New Band: "Supercramp"

My newest band is called "Supercramp." We already have a Greatest Hits album. Here are the songs:
"Grime of the Century," "Food's Overture," "The Logical Gong," "Even in the Quietest Monuments," "Bleakfest in America," "Ruddy Well Blight," "Take the Wrong Way Home," "Goodbye Strangler," and "Give a Little Sh!t."

Our place in history is most certainly ensured.

The Big P

I'd like to think after all these years, I've figured out what my purpose in life is. The Big P, that is.

The same day I stepped out of my IT job, I twisted my angle in my own garage. It seemed highly unlikely that such small accident would keep me from walking for almost six months. When the speedy recovery wasn't happening, I had no choice but to be patient with myself. I meditated, read an insane number of books, watched baby birds hatch and take their first flights, counted lemons on the lemon tree, got good at recognizing humming birds by sound, even talked to the roses...

The Value of Boredom

     An apology is in order. I fell into a classic parenting trap. I told my kids that being bored was an inexcusable sign of a lack of creativity. And I believed it.
     According to psychoanalyst Adam Phillips, having the capacity to be bored is actually an essential element for a full life.
     Boredom is halfway between wanting something to spark our interest, and hoping we come up with something on our own. These two wishes are actually in opposition, but neither is fulfilled. In fact, what we really hope for is that we'll actually become interested at all. But we're not. Everything we look at is meh. We become preoccupied with the fact that we're not preoccupied.
     Phillips points out that despite the irritation and frustration we feel when we're bored, we are actually "reaching to a recurrent sense of emptiness out of which [our] real desire can crystallize."
     Hmm...emptiness...real desire... Wait, doesn't everything arise out of emptiness? Isn't that the necessary condition for something new? This is ancient wisdom. But we dread that irritation--and someone told us it was inexcusable--so we check our cellphones, turn on the television, surf the Web, play solitaire, or just complain to other people whenever the level of stimulation drops below a certain point. It's better to be busily unfulfilled.
     We end up displacing the emptiness out of which what we really want can arise. If we do get to that stillness, we might find it boring. That's okay.
     Lauren, Sarina, Ryan and Alan: I'm sorry. You don't need my permission anymore, but you have it, late though it is. You can be bored now. I won't judge you for it. I'm learning not to judge myself for avoiding it.

Morning Coffee

I get to have coffee with my best friend every morning.

It started at a McDonald's somewhere halfway between Everett, Washington, and Portland, Oregon. We lived 200 miles apart at that time but somehow managed to meet twice a week. We needed each other and we needed that coffee. When we got to spend more time together on the weekends, we didn't want to "waste" time going out. Hence our version of "Javoca" was born. It's a simple hot drink that blends instant coffee and cocoa mix (click to listen to "Javoca"). Over long conversations and cups of Javoca, we answered each other's questions about "who am I." We liked the answers we received.

We got married and got to work for the same company. On the way to work, we would stop by our neighborhood Starbucks and say "Hi" to the "breakfast club," a group of seniors from the retirement community nearby who met there every morning. Then we enjoyed the day's first cup of coffee as we carpooled. We had a lot to talk about. In those morning coffee conversations, we learned to help each other grow and cope with the complexity of a mixed and blended family. 

Both of my sons chose colleges in California. I missed them terribly, and I was beginning to yearn for something more. We decided to move to sunny California to take a look. On cold workday mornings, we would light up the fireplace and enjoy our wonderful conversations over a cup of home brewed coffee before the commute. On weekends, we'd go to the Queen Bean coffee house where we had found the world's best "Cubano." We would spend hours reading, talking, writing and drawing. We dug deep into our souls, asking hard questions and daring ourselves to dream. After umptine "Cubanos," it became obvious that we had to do this full-time. But how? "Quit our jobs and move to Taiwan then." Those "Cubanos" were very powerful!

So many things changed after the move. Our daily morning coffee survived. We now use a French Press, Vietnamese Drip, cold brew, or Mark's secret weapon. Our conversations still center around learning of all sorts. I love our morning coffee time and Mark is still my best friend. I could not ask for a better partner in life!

[Mark says: "Ditto! Lucky me!"]

Now I Can Be Sticky For Hours

It's all about what one can get used to.

We've been in Taiwan almost three years now, and we're going through the hottest part of the summer. This is what it looks like from the Central Weather Bureau's site:

25 ~ 35

COMFORTABLE~EXTREMEL

They don't have room for the "LY HOT AND MUGGY" bit. So, as the temps get more "extreml," we strip down more and more, but there's a limit to how much you can take off and still greet people at the front door. What about after you hit that limit?

Reset

My cellphone acted up recently:
   It heated up for no good reason,
   was less receptive to calls,
   and its battery drained faster.
Fortunately it's still under warranty so I sent it to the manufacturer to have a look. When I got it back, it was like a brand new phone--a fast phone without excess data or apps. I was given a chance to start fresh! I carefully loaded only stuff that enhances the quality of my life. It's not all that different from our lives, is it? Metaphorically, we pressed a big "Reset" button when we moved to Taiwan, and we've pressed several small ones since. With each "Reset," we learn to seek understanding, accept the situation, forgive, let go and move on, with gratitude and honesty.

Getting Through the Fog

A close friend once told me, "When you have your mind made up, you're one of the most productive people I know." That's what clarity of purpose does for me. I can tell when I'm not clear: I'm not moving. And when I'm not moving, I'm not productive. I might be busy, but that's not the same and I know it.

On some days, though, the fog is so thick! Stephen Covey talked about having a compass, a way to maintain our direction when we can't see the landmarks. I'm slowly getting better at paying attention to mine. I start to feel that pull. Then it's a matter of putting one foot in front of the other.

I Ponder

I took this picture from the ladies' room at a rest stop. It is not unusual to see poems or reminders to ask people to keep the bathroom clean. They are usually positive and kind, some even witty. I rarely see any repeats. Since these are public restrooms which get rated periodically, I wonder if such creativity was somewhat motivated by the competitive spirit. The sign here is interesting. Not only does it not belong to the "clean up after yourself" category, the English translation also takes on a life of its own. I ponder and I ponder...

Commitment

I've noticed that I don't always follow through. I was willing to try--or I thought I was--but I couldn't keep up with it. This happens sometimes when I'm just trying to be accommodating or helpful. Other times, I'm being confronted with a behavior or an aspect of my character that seems to require change.

Sometimes, when I'm urged to take certain actions or make some change, I may agree with all the arguments, assent to their reasonableness and logic, perhaps even chide myself for not having come to the same conclusion. I may even set out a program and take steps to follow it, hoping that if I just go through the motions long enough, I'll eventually get in line.

It's unsustainable. (...more)

The Best Possible Conditions

Over the last few years, I've often said: "You being fully yourself and me being fully myself are neither mutually exclusive nor mutually dependent." For you to be fully yourself, you don't have to wait for me, and if I'm fully myself, that shouldn't stop you. That's true, but recently there seems to be more to it than that.

The more I think about it, the more I see a deep interconnection between you being fully yourself and me being fully myself. When I am living authentically, when I am true to who I am, I help create the best possible conditions for you to be fully yourself. When I am not, I don't.

So being myself, living authentically, directly benefits everyone around me. The freedom and responsibility that come with this are vast. I am not only free to follow my own path, it is imperative that I do so with courage, facing the paper tigers that appear as mistakes, failure and misunderstandings. If I do, I can take the place where I belong, fulfill the role for which I am uniquely designed, and help create the best possible conditions for you to do the same.

"Consumer" Alert

Since when did this term "consumer" become acceptable to the general public?
It makes me feel less...less what? Less humane, maybe.
It's as if they ignore all my goodies of being a human--such as kindness and a caring and giving nature--and only focus on my "consuming" capability.
I know I am way more than that.
I refuse to be called a "consumer."

Lost and Found

I've discovered a kind-of, sort-of disturbing fact about myself recently.
I have many "Ah-ha" moments. That's sort-of good, right?
I seem to be recycling them. Um. That's sort-of "Huh?"

"You mean, I figured this out ten years ago?" I asked myself.
It's so shocking coming across an old journal entry writing about an epiphany that I just recently had.
At first, I mean.

After scanning through more journal entries, I am no longer shocked.
I am certain that I WAS brilliant.
Say no more.

Practice

Sometimes it seems like everything I do needs improvement. I can always point to something that I think I could do better. Several years back, Ping gave me a whole series of CDs and books by Stephen R. Covey, the author of "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People." After I'd opened several of these gifts, one of our boys said, "Are you getting the hint?"

The fact is, we're usually our own worst critic, as cliche as that may be. Recently, I've been considering what I gain from that. I'm not finding anything.

Self-improvement is creative by definition: we are becoming. Criticism is not conducive to such a creative act. As John Cleese put it: "Nothing will stop you being creative more effectively than the fear of making a mistake."

What if I think of everything as practice? It's a process. Not every effort gets the result I want, but whatever I'm working on, I can hone it, refine it, and iterate until I get something I like. I'll know it when I see it. Until then, I'll keep practicing.

Real Lunchtime Conversation: "Song or Poo?"

If you had been sitting with us at lunch today, you would have heard the following exchange as we were opening a new package of RouSong 肉鬆 (a.k.a. "pork floss" or "meat wool"). Actually, as I opened the package, I wasn't sure if it was RouSong or a slightly different kind known as RouPu 肉脯. "Row Poo?" Here's how it went:

Mark: Is this song or poo?
Ping: I don't know.
M: I thought the texture was the difference.
P:  You have to taste it to find out.
M: (takes a bite) It's kind of chewy.
P: Poo, then.
M: So poo is chewier??

It turns out that not only is this poo, it's actually made from mushrooms, so it's GOO POO! (菇脯!)

Our appetites overcame even such a coarse discourse over this course, of course.

Thanks to www.survivalistboards.com for this...uh...accurate image.

"Pícaro" - Now on Soundcloud

Here's a piece I call "Picaro". It's an atonal bit with pizzicato strings and drums. And ...sounds.  2:00

He's in there
Somewhere
In here
No
Still?
Maybe not--
Oh
Yeah
There
Oops!
Where?

Whattheheckisgoingon and Whotheheckarewe?

Ping and I have been at this for three years now. We've gone from Corporate America to Beitou, Taiwan. We've spent a lot of these three years trying to figure out what's up. This week was a rough one. We both floundered, pretty painfully. It's amazing how dark the world can seem when we lose our bearings. But here's the point:

We're still working on getting “what we do” to be closer to “who we are.”

It’s an experiment--a bet, maybe--that we can do something authentic, something that uses everything we have, that opens up all the possibilities, and that somehow serves the world in a valuable, sustainable way.

Have we got it? Not yet. Well, part of it, yes, sometimes. Some days, not at all. We have more questions than answers. Sometimes I wonder: who needs more pretty paintings, more songs, another 

New Music: "Dear John"

Check out the latest original music from Mark and Larry Benigno!
"Dear John"

http://youtu.be/lWust8JKmqw

Mark's Notes: I remember distinctly the night John Lennon was shot. At the time, I had some pretty self-righteous opinions about the ex-Beatle's life, and I actually wrote a song about it. I performed it for several years before I started to question my thinking. This is my open letter to John Lennon, some 35 years later, letting him know: "I think I get it now."

The Songwriting Process: Mark wrote a first draft of these lyrics and emailed them to Larry. Then both of them wrote music for it. The project sat for about a year until Mark wrote a new piece with elements from both originals.

The Stages of Your Miserables Career

As an interesting exercise this morning, I mapped out the characters in the musical Les Miserables as if they were stages in life. I think this is particularly pertinent to theater people, but it could apply to all of us. What do you think? (Right click on the graphic and open it in a new tab or window for a better view.)

"Nanya Seaside"

"Nanya Seaside" - Taiwan
- Ink and Ballpoint Pen - 4.25x5.6"/10.8x14cm
Some friends of our took us around to the northwestern tip of Taiwan where we stood out on the rocks on a blustery day. This was the sight below us as the sea continued to erode the stones.

"Back to Nature" - Ta Prom, Cambodia

"Back to Nature" - Ta Prom, Cambodia 
- Acrylic on Canvas - 28.5x39.5"/72.5x100cm
One of the most spectacular parts of exploring the temples in Angkor Wat is the way the jungle has reclaimed much of the area. These massive trees have taken root and often taken over large areas of the stone structures, slowly dismantling them in the process. Ping took this photo of one of the largest which was straddling the corner of a courtyard. You can see another giant in the background. I very much enjoyed painting this one. My graphite drawing on the canvas was very detailed, so the actual painting went relatively quickly. I did my best to stay loose, despite all the detail.

GARBAGE NIGHT UPDATE: March, 2014

Go to YouTube video

Since we made that audio/video a couple of years ago, Mark's gotten pretty good at garbage night. He can ask for the newlywed bag back in Chinese, and they will actually return it to him. He knows to wait until the garbage truck music is really obvious before going out to stand in the heat hoping the mosquitoes don't notice him.

He's also learned:

• The old ladies will beat you to the blue kitchen waste bin. Every time. Get over it.
• Line up across the street and toss the trash bag into the moving truck left handed. Otherwise, you get cut off by that super-fast kid from up the block.
• Give big paper/plastic/metal items to the corner store owner who recycles them for cash.
• The key to good kitchen waste disposal is the "Flick & Toss." Grab the bag by the bottom, up-end it over the blue bin, flick it, and toss the empty bag into the garbage truck. Wrist technique is critical.
• Timing is everything when dumping kitchen waste if you intend to escape without someone else's leftovers all over your arm/leg/foot/shoulder.
• Keep your elbows in; that way nobody gets hurt, including you.

For Mark, the best part of garbage night is when the driver of the recycle truck waves at him on the way by. That's what really makes him feel like "a regular."

New Song! "The Ruins of the Bayon"

Larry and Mark have created another piece of music together. To hear the piece with a slideshow of the place that inspired it, check it out on our YouTube channel.
Here are the lyrics:

"The Ruins of the Bayon"
Music by Larry Benigno - Lyrics by Mark Ivan Cole

The gates have fallen, broken stones,
A skeleton of broken bones.
Silent statues watch and wait
For long lost footsteps at the gate.
Kept within these crumbling walls,
The towers rise above it all,
And faces I once knew as mine
Remind me of the deep divine.

The sun has set.
The day has ended.
I can't forget
What I have mended.
Another day is gone
In the ruins of the Bayon.

Stone by stone, we built the dream,
Every doorway, every beam.
Step by step, we climbed the stairs,
So beautiful, so unaware.
Now alone, I walk these halls
Amidst the carvings on the walls.
These thoughts of you, they haunt me still,
Like shadows on the windowsill.

The sun has set.
So little mended.
I can't forget
What I have ended.
Another day is gone
In the ruins of the Bayon.

The jungle carries on
In the ruins of the Bayon.
I still await the dawn
In the ruins
Of the Bayon.

(c) 2014 - Larry Benigno and Mark Ivan Cole

Finally! #30 of 30 paintings in 30 days: "Conversation With The Sages"

"Conversation With the Sages" - Smith Rock, OR, USA
- Oil Pastel on Paper, approx. 8.2x7.4"/ 207x184mm

When we lived in Portland, OR, we would often take the 4.5 hour drive to Bend. One of our favorite stops along the way was Smith Rock State Park. On this particular occasion, we worked our way to the edge of the crumbling basalt cliff that lined the less traveled side of the Crooked River, near the bivouac area. This was one of the views through the sage and junipers as we walked quietly, our boots leaving no trace of our passage across the moss and grass covered rocks. I figured that since I started the "30 paintings in 30 days" challenge with oil pastels, I'd finish with one, too--sort of coming full circle, I guess. This was done on gray Canson MiTeintes paper. I've learned that a neutral tone in a mid-range value seems to work best for me when doing oil pastels.

#29 of 30 - "Waiting for Runoff"

"Waiting for Runoff" - Liangshan Creek, Taiwan 
- Ink and Ballpoint Pen - 9.9x6.9"/250x176mm

This was one of our first views on the way to the three levels of Liangshan Falls. Since we're in the middle of winter here, it was dry as a bone. I wonder what it looks like with the water carving away at layer after layer of stone. We'll just have to come back in a few months and see it again. I've been painting with these Inktense ink blocks for a couple of years now, and I never really noticed this wonderful Payne's Gray! It came in very handy on this painting.

#28 of 30 - "As the Sun Smiled"

"As the Sun Smiled" - GuanYin Shan from Danshui, plein air
- Ink and Ballpoint Pen - 9.9x6.9"/250x176mm

We rode the tandem bike down to the river and then pedaled to what's become our favorite stretch of rock-covered riverbank, just before the fishermen's wharf. From here, on a perfect, sunny Taiwanese winter afternoon, we could see GuanYin Shan's many peaks rising from the far bank. So good to be out when the sun is smiling.

#27 of 30 - "One of Many Turns"

"One of Many Turns" - Taiwan - Ink and Ballpoint Pen, - 9.9x6.9"/250x176mm

One of the wonderful things about hiking in a new area is that you never know what you'll come to next. We often have some expectation, or some idea of what is there, but we have to round the bend to find out what is really there. This was an early turn in a hike that eventually had us gasping at a sheer dropoff. Taiwan's Taroko Gorge is truly spectacular. This little painting is just a teaser, really. (And yes, this picture was taken with my phone, and that's my lap.)

#26 of 30 "Shall We Go Up?" - Guizekeng, Beitou, Taiwan

"Shall We Go Up?" - Guizekeng, Taiwan
- Acrylic on Canvas
- approx. 16.1x12.4"/41x 31.5cm

From our front door to the trail head to Guizekeng takes about 13 minutes on foot. About half an hour and a steep climb later, you traverse a long ridge, then drop into a steep drainage and come back out. Just beyond a little temple to the mountain god, you come to this bend in the trail where you have a choice: you can head on down again and loop back home, or you can take the stone steps and check out another view before you go.

#25 of 30 - "Where the Mountain Breathes" - Yangmingshan

"Where the Mountain Breathes" - Yangmingshan
- Acrylic on Canvas, approx. 16x21"/41x53cm

On January 1 of 2014, we had perfect weather, so Ping and I got on the motorcycle and wound our way up to Yangmingshan National Park, not far from our house. A couple of hours later, we topped out on Qixingshan, a.k.a. "7 Star Mountain." It was such a nice day that everyone was out hiking. It was a zoo at the summit. However, the hike was well worth it. This is my view of Ping hiking through XiaoYouKung, climbing up between the fumaroles. I love these volcanic areas where you can see the mountain breathing. This painting was another "go for speed" experiment. I used only two brushes and limited my palette to 6 colors plus white. I'll do some tweaks, but it's "signed and being stared at" now.

#24 of 30 - "Commander's Platform Prayer Flags"

"Commander's Platform Prayer Flags" - Beijiang, China 
- Acrylic on Canvas, approx. 16.1x12.4"/410x315mm

We had just been standing in the sun by the side of the largest alpine lake in China. Halfway around the lake, we climbed the hill to the famed "Commander's Platform." Tattered prayer flags still clinging to the posts thrashed and snapped in the wind. Not long after we climbed back down, the storm unleashed its full force. This painting was done alla prima. We'll see if it's "done" or if it's just at that "signed it and staring at it" phase.

#23 of 30 - "Beijiang Grove Last Light"

"Beijiang Grove Last Light" - Xinjiang, China
- Soft Pastel on Paper, approx. 5.3x7"/135x180mm

Ping and I had the chance to travel through the northern part of China's Xinjiang province a couple of years ago. One night, after dinner, we had the chance to walk along the river and came to this lovely little grove of trees which were shimmering in the last light of the evening. So often we find that the things that enchant us are delightfully ordinary, even far from home.

#22 of 30 - "Paria Rimrocks Toadstools"

"Paria Rimrocks Toadstools" - Utah, USA
- Acrylic on Canvas, approx. 10.6x8.7"/22x27cm

One of the places Ping found on the map that we just HAD to go see was Toadstools in Utah. When we got there, we had no idea how magical it would be! We had the place pretty much to ourselves, too. This is just one view of the wash we followed much of the way in. Not much further in, we got to the real feature: the amazing hoodoos of all shapes and sizes. (I'll see if I can paint some of those later. They're so unreal, you'd think I was making them up myself.) This is the informal snapshot of this painting. It's probably a work in progress, but this was Session #1, doing my best to see if I could work opaquely in acrylic, alla prima, without a lot of prep.

#21 of 30 "Number 26 Is Available" - Mexico

"Number 26 Is Available" - Mexico
- Ink and Ballpoint Pen - 9.9x6.9"/250x176mm
When Ping and I visited Mexico some years ago, we set out on our own and explored the little hills and back alleys whenever we could. This little residence had been long since taken over by tenants of a botanical nature. I thought the title was fitting.

#20 of 30 - "Oak, Pine, Granite"

"Oak, Pine, Granite" - Yosemite Valley, CA
- Soft Pastel on Paper, approx. 4x6.3"/10.1x16cm

Back in 2010, Ping and I spent a cold March day in Yosemite with no plan, no goal, and no destination. We just wanted to be there for the day. As we reluctantly started to drive out late that afternoon, we pulled over and made one last foray into the woods. Somewhere near the massive wall of El Capitan, we found this old oak among its evergreen and granite fellows. My goal with this painting was to get as loose as I possibly could and still get that sense of space.