Meet Ice Girl, Page 1

It’s fucking hysterical.

Now and then mean the same in Ratanakiri, Cambodian animist jungle languages.

Leo is incognito and invisible perusing the Wild West. It is replete with wandering literary outlaws, animists, shamans and 25,000 natives. Rambunctious young Banlung cowboys and cowgirls dance 125cc machines through spiraling red dust.

How long have you been here, asked a 12-year old girl cutting and selling ice along a red road.

All day. I started in China. I walked to Vietnam. Then Laos. I’ll stay here awhile. We can talk.

Ok, she said, cutting crystals. Is a day long enough to process a sensation, form an impression? Is it long enough to gather critical mass data about the diversity of the human condition in this total phenomena?

Yes, said Leo, If you slow down. How is life here?

I work, I breed, I get slaughtered, she said. This is my fate. My fate is a machete slashing through jungles. Fate and random chance are two sides of the same coin. Yeah, yeah are two of my favorite lazy words. Especially when I am talking with illiterate zombies. They are same word but I spit them out twice at light speed. You accent the last consonant, drawing it out like a sigh, a final breath, a whisper. Y-e-a-hhhhh. It’s crazy English believe you me. Impressive, eh? I can also say OK twice fast with a rising sound on the k sounding like a which means I understand without admitting meaning or personal truth-value. It’s vague. Why be precise? People love conversations using abstract metaphors. Ok?

Ok. Address the very low literacy rate, said Leo.

Hello, literacy rate, how are you? she said.

I am well thank you and speaking with improved elocution. My English is getting better. The more I see the less I know. I open my head, heart and mouth.

Someone said literacy means reading and writing, said ice girl.

I doubt it, said Literacy. Who needs reading and writing? Humans need food, sex, air, water, stories and red dust. Hope is in last place. In fact, hope may be the greatest evil because it’s a myth, like evil.

Let’s not have this conversation in the abstract, said ice girl, sawing cold. 

Ice Girl in Banlung

He has published a new book, Ice Girl in Banlung, on Smashwords. (multiple reading formats)

CreateSpace with Amazon has a hard copy.

Cool.

It's about a girl in Banlung, a remote wild west town in Ratanakiri, Cambodia. Banlung is near The River of Darkness and animst cemetaries.

She sells ice along the road. She meets Leo, a wandering Chinese boy.

He started in China after being released from an Education Through Reform Work Unit where he hauled shit.

His crime? Questioning Authority.

He walked to Banlung from Laos. Before Laos he walked to Hanoi, Saigon, and Sapa.

Ice girl and Leo share true stories about their respective cultures. One such story contains erotica +18.

Always be closing, said ice girl.

Ice Girl in Banlung

a life of purpose

If you’re going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind.

It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery — isolation.

Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that.

You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.

- Charles Bukowski

 

desperation

Desperation called 18 times during the course of the day asking why, what changed your attitude toward me?

How did you arrive at this heartbreaking conclusion to release me, to reduce my sense of responsibility and neglect burning ashes of regret?

Calm thought considered desperation's plight.

Release. Let go of passion, desire and expectations. Serenity, clear focus, unconditional love. Everything dies. Dance behind your tears, your questions with heart-mind.

Be still. Sit with sensation and perception. Breathe deep. In-out. in-out. Be your breath.

By Austin Kleon

Austin Kleon, an artist, writer, observer and thinker gave a talk about what he wished he'd heard as a young creator.

He expanded his ideas and wrote a book: Steal Like an Artist

He said: This book is me talking to a previous version of myself.

These are things I’ve learned over almost a decade of trying to figure out how to make art, but a funny thing happened when I started sharing them with others — I realized that they aren’t just for artists. They’re for everyone.

These ideas are for everyone who’s trying to inject some creativity into their life and their work. (That should describe all of us.) Reposted from Brain Pickings.

Steal Like An Artist on Amazon.