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ROOM of POSSIBILITIES

Atop of a large hill in Echo Park, Los Angeles, on the 1900 block of Delta street, there is a room that was shared by my brother Derek. If you happened to peek in you would notice a small two foot square window on the western facing wall allowing rays to illuminate a rather minuscule room. (only knowing the dimensions because of frequent escape attempts)  Our bedroom although tightly confined, is yet spacious enough to contain so many clues and windows into an odd world. On the floor there is a deep brown thick shag carpet, reminiscent of a mastodons coat. Next to my left foot is a mound of He-man toys spray painted brown by the neighbors across the street. My brother and I descovered that the younger of three boys squeezed through our doggie door, while the others stood lookout. Needless to say they never made a similar mistake after a heroic return and justice served. Next a twin bed rest above a full size box spring, shower capped by silver/black Raiders fitted sheet along with matching comforter. Against the wall a collage of G.I. Joe, Thunder Cats, and N. W. A. posters. Hanging from ceiling are four Star Wars models suspended by fishing wire to replicate a spacial dogfight. continue to scan the walls and come across my brothers Collection of Iron Maiden, as well as Led Zeplin posters in a mix of gore and beauty. Below his series of posters rests an end table with nothing but an old style wind up alarm clock. Immediately following is a metal bunk bed. Only the top bunk is used with my brothers base amp to use as a stepping stool elevating to the top layer. Staring back at you from this point is a life sized poster of Bo Jackson with a measuring tape along his side to gauge my short prowess. On the woolly shag below Bo's knees are a mini Pac-man and Donkey kong arcade games that have been used so much the programing has become buggy.

      There was not a lot in our rooms, due to the fact that we had very little posessions at that time, but in that room my mind roamed beyond borders. I can recall many fond memories we

hen thinking back to the time spent in that old room, giving my cause to dream of more elaborate surroundings.

nasty epithets

As kids my brother and I spent a Lot of time teasing each other. In our world you learn to protect yourself very early. One of the ways we built up strength is by playing what some call, "The Dozens." A valiant game of insults, it is a game of whit and observation. Nothing is safe or sacred, and the game is over when one person concedes by getting upset. Most of the time if you come up with a particularly good zinger it is stolen, or reused elsewhere or against another opponent. Everything from Personal appearance to Yo Momma jokes are allowed, and in some cases there are rules set in place in order to safeguard feeling to a degree. My brother and I pitted against each other many times and i learned quickly how to survive in a cruel world of harsh mental battle.

A few examples of the names that frequently went back and forth are as follows;

-Chunder box
-Knucklehead
-Smegma face
-Roach eater
-W. A. E. G. the turd
-Metal munching thunder Sn@t(h
-Goober
-Mongo
-Baby Huey
-Scaredy rat
-Butt sucker
-Mailman's kid
-Oreo
-Hooly bum

There were also a slue of "Yo mamma" jokes used to make each other laugh, but laugh too hard or if you are unable to return fire quickly enough and forfeit the game. For the most part Our style a flyting was not intended to anger but to make the other person quit by submission due to an overwhelming onslaught of verbal abuse. It may sound harsh but in all actuality it help thicken/harden the skin to make a person less likely to fall victim to harsh words. It also helped build skills like whit, thinking on the fly and creativity. My brother was very good at it from what i understand, but nee i turned six years old i became one of the best in my neighborhood. Sometimes when Derek had friends over he would start up on somebody and then pit them against me. During these occasions all I would have to do is regurgitate earlier snap (burns, or elemental success) and my brother would have a smug look of pride as together we would destroy anyone who claimed battle against our house, and would eventually begin sparring one another. You can never get enough reps when dealing with battles of the mind. And in some ways it reminds me of the oral tradition bard battles of ancient times. Such as the duel between Lemmin Kainen, and Vainamoinen, two heroic characters out of Elias Lonnrot's " Kalevala," in which two bards sing to see who is the best.
Flyting may seem hard, or brash but is an excellent way to develop quick thinking, problem solving and personal bragging rights. It is a passage that can be used to increase mental capacity as well as word formulation. And if you don't like it, go back to whatever place sold you that imitation pare of nikes with the swoosh sewed on upside down.

An Invisible Touch, the Minds Awakening

     My mind wanders somewhat. Wonder where in what world it is trying to take me. Does it want me to see an especially special sight only seen by me?(say the first two sentences three times fast if i get to boring you) Its similar to riding back seat in a limo on rout to a Hollywood movie premiere. I step out and in an instant I'm transported to a cosmos of images, sounds, and smells. Weightlessness, I'm sitting down yet feel as if I'm soaring. Are the things I'm watching, hearing, and feeling real? Well of course the are! The dreamworld is no more fake than the feeling of pain, its all in your head and real at the same time. A dual existence whose soul purpose is to guide you.

     Keeping in connection with my groups topic and title I have navigated into the dream world. In class we talked about being obsessed about something. I have been consumed by the fluidity of the brains reveal, the rich content pouring out like sand through finger tips. No matter how hard you grasp all you are left with is trace amounts of what once filled the space. Many things have triggered a set of events in my cranium, from the visions of a fantasy world to dreams in spanish or even a magazine cover. There is no end to the possibilities attainable from the use of the dream state. Painters, bakers, and yes even writers all make use of the unseen ideas laying dormant beyond the seemingly empty, dark, vast regions enclosed in bone and flesh. That would be in simple terms all the possibilities you could ever think of if ever given the chance. Which is to say you might go mad given the chance to unleash all bats lingering in your belfry.

     I have been consumed by a passage in Yates' "Art of Memory." In chapter II labeled, "The Art of Memory in Greece: Memory and The Soul," (page 47 for those that like to follow along) we dive into just exactly what has consumed me. Behold in the plains, and caves, and caverns of my memory, innumerable and innumerably full of innumerable kinds of things, either as images, as all bodies; or by actual presence, as the arts; or by certain notions and impressions, as the affections of the mind, which, even when the mind doth not feel, the memory retaineth."

     This arrangement of words has entered into my head like a bookmarked page of a book i was in the midst of writing but could not divulge as eloquently. This chapter speaks to the soul of ones mind, its imagination and its calculating chaos strike like asteroids crashing into planets forever changing the landscape. Almost everyone has been imprinted by things you might not have recognized, but has been imprinted to the memory banks of the fluid, ever changing thoughts that fill the neurons coursing through ones head.

     Once you grab hold the concept of entering an infinite and ever-changing world within your head, the memory palace contains an equal about of rooms and corridors to journey into. Countless combinations, contributing to an uncanny unconscious, that once enter is hard to leave.

My Memory Theatre

Foolowing suit with my epitath, I used many references from the ghetto days. I was given a list of fifteen items to memorize from a friend. If you were to walk up to my house the first thing you would see is a Yuban coffee can used as an ashtray on the front porch. Enter the front door and next to the couch sits a mushroom footrest, not the most comfortable of seats. On the book shelf rests a set of steel dice and dominoes made by my cousin while incarcerated in L.A. county. Many of nights we would spend a considerable amount of time putting dents into the wooden fold out table my uncle left while having one too many Crazy Horses. if you continue to the kitchen, next to the spice rack lay a giant bottle of Lawry's seasoning salt, used for just about every meal in our household. It makes me laugh no because right next to that were three jars of grease; bacon, fish, and other. Turn down the hallway to see a large poster of the torch runner who came running through the neighborhood for the 1984 summer Olympics. Now we enter the room my brother and I share. A bunk bed with a bass amp for a stepping stool to the top bunk are straight ahead. A life size poster of Bo Jackson on the closet stare at you and on the other side of the room a tribute of Iron Maiden plastered into a colague. Also in our room sat a black and white t.v. with an Atari gaming system, with a miniature Donkey Kong and Pacman arcade system. Loads of hours were poured into each one of those systems.

Muses Memory Theatre

I was staring at my phone when thinking of a way to memorize the list of muses aka CCUTETEMP, when it hit me. Why not treat the muses as a list of contacts. Calliope was the first to and easiest since in order to contact somebody the first thing you would usually do is call them, and we all now epic it can be to try and get a hold of someone. Next comes Clio. I thought of the lady you once could call on the Psychic Network, Miss Cleo, but instead of your future she tells your past. Urania came to mind after noticing there is an astrology app on my phone. My friend Terry plays the harpsichord which brought Terpsicore to mind and the ways of dance. Erato, after hearing her name I instantly thought of where Rio works so that was a no brainer. I have a friend named Thalia and she is a jolly, comical person, making my life in memorization that much more of a breeze. Euterpe happened to be a little harder, but after some research on my phone i discovered there is a generic ring tone on my phone name eureka. It has a fluty type tone and so she was linked. I couldn't find anything in my phone for Mnempone n thought of how tragic it was and then, BAMN, i had a way to remember her. And last but not least Polyhymnia. Her name already states her purpose but I was determined to link her in some way. I thought of the game Hexic, a game that uses polygons and has hymnal type music in the background. All in all a weird system but it has been working for me. On occasion I do forget, but the memory system is helping to improve my grasp of the muses.

The Memories that stick.

Recently after reading a few chapters of "Moonwalking with Einstein," i realized that there are ways to train your memory, some born with amazing memory, but what about the random things your mind decides to keep? I'm talking about those nagging songs that you just cant shake, or the seemingly useless facts that stay lodged in your mind. for example, why is it that my mind found the fact that there have been studies to prove that plants can scream? Or the notion that before a person has an aneurysm they smell burnt toast? Ironic, unfortunate, but somewhat comical, these are examples of things I wish were replaced by other items i deem worthy. In the first chapter Foer states " If memory is our means of preserving that which we consider most valuable, it is obviously painfully linked to our own transience." now i understand that he is talking about fending off mortality, but the part about what our mind deems valuable? that really chaps my hide. in a sense it makes me want to have a little chat with my brain, but its not like i could because it seems to be controlling the outcome of what it wants to remember instead of me. Now after saying this i realize my brain is me but sure as heck isn't wanting to cooperate. I have no use for the facts that a cuddle fish can is not really a fish or how its camouflage operates. And I really don't see the reason my mind needs to retain the fact that during a red tide you can write your name in the sand and watch it glow. all of these facts may seem fun or cool for a moment but I would rather be able to remember my kids Social security numbers. Or why is it I can barely recall my own phone number, yet can recite my telephone number from high school, that I had for a lot less longer and was last used 17 years ago. So if memory is persevering the most valuable, why is my head full of useless, trivial junk? something to ponder as I try to retrain my brain.