Five Million Dollar Fund

KOREA?????? WHAT??

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 15 May 2010 15:47:00 +0000

I rode a motor scooter down to the the port city Pusan (or Busan depending on who you ask.) I lost myself rode for nearly two hours. Getting lost feels good. I have fallen in love with it. Lost is part of the process, it tells me, "Today, Terry, you are learning something." Pusan is located on the South Eastern side of the Korean Peninsula. I parked my bike at a promenade and walked along a path by the beach overlooking the beautiful city. I past by the mini aquariums where fish are sliced, gutted and and purchased by markets, then sold to tourists. Pusan is an international city, it is reminiscent of San Francisco in some strange ways. I wished I were staying in Pusan. For the first time since I have arrived, I was not strange. I noticed other white people, some black Americans, and even some Europeans. Instinctively, I knew lurking somewhere in these alley streets hidden among towering condos, markets, internet bars, coffeehouses, and Karaoke bars and millions and millions and millions of people lived an international bookstore where I could find a book of poetry in English. God how I have grown to love the English language. I didn't know I had a mother tongue until I had no one with whom I could share it. I sat on the coast, ate some chicken, chicken that I thought was going to cost me a dollar sixty, but I misunderstood and it was 16. Second time that mistake has cost me. A young Korean plays guitar and sings the Beetles, CCR and a dozen others. He is not shy with the guitar and plays with confidence. His voice sings sweetly and then he breaks into raspy loudness. Damn! He can sing. I eat chicken and think of Orion. I am pleased Ruby is with him this weekend. I look forward to him joining me soon... yep

Here in Korea.

The stench of fish and exhaust, the smell of salt from the ocean, the boy singing, the beach, the people trampling through the sand, the towering businesses the honking horns, blowing whistles from police officers, all of it. I love every bit of it, oceans and people and cities and stench and salt and cacophony. I wanted to talk to the Korean kid singing. I wanted to tell him that my son sings and plays. I wanted it to it to cross the divide, somehow talking to this young singer would feel the gap and through some sort of musical connection Orion would understand how much I love him.

Why Korea? What about the ride? What about the five million dollar fund?

Yes, I can understand that this must seem a bit schizophrenic and absurd, but you have to see it through the right mind.

On the ride I learned that I was on the right path, and I came to believe that not only was it possible to achieve our goals but in doing so it could have a domino effect. I was empowered and humbled by all the incredible people I met and in Davis and Sacramento, the people who rode with me, the students at Davis, and then the people I met in San Francisco convinced me that I was not off the beaten path, but I was in the dead center of a movement that is just beginning to grow; I was reminded in the strength, courage, optimism and commitment that lies in people. We were building momentum and raising money, but slowly. Some requested me to come home and said I needed to be there to help grow the organization. Some encouraged me to go on. As a person trying to find the way, deciphering the signals that illuminate inside of one's self can often be cloudy and tumultuous. But the day Ruby called me and told me to come home. I knew I had to go. And if she told me to come now I would.

Arriving in Salt Lake though, I realized as we often do, but so did others, that I was not needed and that the daily functions of both organizations were sorting themselves out and that I was not an asset in the respect that others thought, but another personality; the best thing I could do for the organization was not add another voice to the mix, but keep doing what I do, imagine and create. It whispered to me before, but now the voice I have been hearing for the last year speaks with absolute confidence. Before me now lies an unquestionable path, I am going to join with millions of people to create and art center for a youth and a neighborhood. And in doing so, we will join with others to create safe, empowering, community spaces all over. We will participate in a community based revolution!

Speaking with Ruby, who truly has the wisdom of a thousand curanderas, she reminds me that peace and happiness is a choice. This journey is going to take years and the ride cannot be a crucible, it must be an adventure. For me, the only true way to make this incredible journey an adventure is to do it with the people I love the most. (NO, not me :-) ). I need to do it with Ruby and when possible our son, Orion (who is now in college in Sacramento). But how is that possible?

Which brings me to the other lesson I learned on the ride. I need to be able to honor all my financial commitments for a couple of years so that on the ride I do not have to think about how I am going to pay my bills. I need to devote my full attention to raising money. This also has to remain a volunteer effort in order to keep people's trust. Therefore I need to get ahead at home.

In order to present, I realized I needed to acknowledge that I am not a lecturer. My background is in film, theater, writing, and some hobby photography. I needed to get a book together, and possibly some plays. I also need to embrace more of me and less of a presenter. At heart I am a writer, not a marketer, not a politician, and not a professor. Adding onto that, messaging, for me, does not cut it. Messaging, I believe is what ad campaigns and political campaigns do, and unfortunately in those kind of campaigns rely on a certain degree of misrepresentation. While it may work, and it may be effective, in the long run I believe it can tremendously undermine a community effort. It communicates larger than life ideas through branding which eventually fall short (i.e. The President cannot save the world on his own, Nike shoes will not make you a faster runner) and in an organization whose long term efforts rely on trust, the seeds of mistrust will already be planted if those methods are employed. Secondly, effective messaging also communicates another idea which leads to apathy. By creating too professional of a campaign, we are selling an idea that is not duplicated easily by anyone. Great marketing teams cost lots of money and have years of training. If we are to take on an extremely sophisticated appearance it should only be through the efforts of contributors and volunteers and people who follow the campaign should see it evolve and learn from it, that ordinary people found support from people who are trained. In short, we want anyone, absolutely anyone to learn from our efforts, mistakes, successes, etc. and be able to duplicate it, refine it, whatever. We aim to destroy the notion that only larger than life people , organizations, or institutions can be effective in producing substantial efforts.

Even great organizations like the NAACP came out of the efforts of community based people during the civil rights movement. That holds true for the Peace movement, the labor movement, etc..

Which brings me to the most important thing I learned on the ride, that in order to build an organization and make it community project that can be duplicated, we need to be visible. People need to see it stumble, fall and get up. We need to show an organizational effort grow from the ground up by community. We will fail, make mistakes, have conflicts, and we will learn, we will resolve and.... we will have successes. we just need to repeat the process until we have enough successes and failures that we have the money in the bank and the organization built. We are not experts, We are not Politicians, We are not Philanthropists. We, and the many people working with us, are community members trying to take charge of our community. That is all! If we can do it, anyone can!

Now Korea,

A Korean school offered me a one year contract with all my housing paid. It gave me the opportunity to address all the needs that I faced and prepare. This would allow me to send the majority of my salary home, finish a book, buy a camera, a computer, and a video recorder and save up with Ruby and prepare to spend the next couple of years on a bike, writing, painting, blogging, and meeting community groups, doing workshops, and performing plays, A smorgasbord of presenting opportunities. We will ride to every state in the country and Ruby will paint in every state. We will look for presenting opportunities and most of all, we will spend time doing what we enjoy most, drinking coffee together in the morning and working with community. We will use what we have, our own skills and doing so, we hope to offer a journey and story that others will like to follow and many will duplicate. We may not be hip, slick, and cool like a Mountain Dew commercial, but we will be honest and try to be interesting, and hopefully we can persuade others to, especially in such a difficult political and economic climate, take action to build the institutions that serve our communities. No need to ask for permission, or wait for someone to rescue a neighborhood. We are all fully capable and I am reminded of Cindy Cashman who told me their motto at Habitat for Humanity in Corvallis, Oregon, "Put down your differences and pick up a hammer."

In one year, Ruby and I will set out to finish raising the five million and build a community organization. Until then, I will be blogging from Korea and preparing. Please jump on board, and make this journey with us. We need help. We can't do it alone. We need help from web designers, outreach etc.. And please, please, please, always remember, criticism is not contribution.

Home is where the heart is.

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 18:41:00 +0000

I arrived back in Salt Lake City early in the month. Coming home was bitter sweet. My mind, body, and spirit are ready to go the distance. Others thought I should return. This venture has never been about Terry and has always been about building a community center. Therefore, I believe, it would be inappropriate to ignore our supporters, even arrogant, even though I strongly disagree sometimes.

Waking up in the morning next to Ruby is a tremendous feeling. She is, indeed, my one true love. Occasionally, I think, "oh we need to get home because we have to make sure Orion has something to eat, or something," then I remember he is not coming home. I am proud of him. College suits him well. He calls and we have long conversations about capitalism, communism, religion and life. he truly pushes the limits of my mind.

I am more convinced now than ever that we need to begin a community based revolution.We have to re-build our communities and build on models that work. We need to quit waiting for heroes and saviors to come down into our community and make them better, and we need to acknowledge to ourselves, for one reason or another, either complacency, hatred, greed, or indifference, there are many people who are content with the status quo and willing to sacrifice or ignore the needs of some communities. We should welcome all help, even those whose intentions are good, if even, misdirected, because they are reaching out. We should, however, put none of our effort towards changing people and direct all that energy, instead, into building communities that thrive, working with our youth. This is the world that we have made and it is our responsibility.

I left on a bike ride to raise money to create a permanent change in the community. Many supported, many criticized, many laughed. Still, we have no permanent space in our community that acknowledges our youth and communities for who they are and seeks to prepare them and really challenge the existing inequities with remedies that does not consider our youth and communities as deficit. For this reason, our youth and communities suffer. In my heart, I believe it is important for us to build one place, on our own, and remind ourselves and our communities that we are not so powerless we have to roll over and accept what is left to us, that we are indeed capable of making change.

It is my intention, to spend a year preparing, writing, and planning, for this bike ride and to take our message to communities everywhere, again. I felt it was extremely successful. For me, it is symbolic in my own willingness to go beyond my own ability and realize that as a human being I have a responsibility. I will go alone, play the fool, if need be, or I will go in concert with many. For me, it is not really about anything except that my community and my frustrations and my efforts are not the excuses I will use to deflect my own responsibility in these efforts. I don't believe any plan is too big, too ambitious, or too difficult, and indeed, anyone who would suggest otherwise is encouraging us all to be too weak-hearted and think too little of our own capabilities or worth. Our communities are too beautiful to think otherwise. If people really believe my efforts are too ludicrous, and that is the excuse they use to deflect their own responsibility in their service of human rights, equality, and community building, nothing I could ever do would change that. If they were truly motivated by a desire for change, equality, and human rights, then nothing I could do would change that, they would simply disagree with my methods, or goals, and create their own. Criticism should never be confused with contribution. I am simply one person who looks around, sees the world he lives in, as it is, and sees that it could be better, and I am willing to start in a direction with a vision. Walk with me, walk with others, create another path, do what you need to do. Please, don't let any criticism of me, or us, or our efforts be the excuse that contributes to complacency.

The five million dollar fund will persist until we have achieve our goals of a permanent community art center in this neighborhood. When that is complete. I hope to do another. Love is a verb; it require action.

I am encouraging us all to join in a community based revolution and rebuild our country, our continent and our world, one neighborhood, one community, one village at a time.

And the beat goes on...

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 05:28:00 +0000

Leaving San Francisco was hard and heading back to Salt Lake. It is very difficult to explain, but in my heart I know the majority of what we confront in building an institution like the one we are building has very little to do with money, ability and resources. The money is there, the ability is there. What lacks is true belief that it is possible, that we are capable, and we are worth it. To me, this ride has made that ever more transparent. From that chisme grows, people step forward half-heartily, or become suspicious. When a person turns inward though and says, damn, I am worth it and capable, we are worth it, the whole world shifts. All that energy is directed toward realization rather than criticism. I have witnessed this on this ride many times, most profoundly in Xico's class. It is a true sin to teach our youth to be suspicious of themselves, we should build every barrier we can to obstruct that one idea.

Finally, I decided to see some music. During the night I attended a concert raising money for Haiti. It was beautiful. One Haitian band sang a song titled "Haiti, I love you." Phenomenal! The following night I went back to the Poppy to hear a small Jazz combo whose singer sang his original French songs inspired by his Jewish heritage. God it was great to listen to music and experience art again.

I rode the city! I climbed the hills! I dreamed of a new life here with Ruby. Here, it seemed, art was the cake and not the icing. Culture was a fact, not something to be debated. I get tired of the hostility in Utah and the need to always defend a position, especially around issues of diversity. Here, it seemed we could spend more time doing what we do, rather than trying to explain why we do what we do. So it seemed, but nothing is ever as it seems.

Melita and Kevin put me up for a few nights and treated me well. Kevin is a courier and photographer. Melita teaches and is an artist as well. Her cousin Ale lives with them who makes film. I love being around creative people. I love to create. Art heals, makes people whole, makes me human again.

I then moved over to Monica's and her partner. We talked about politics. He leaned to the right and I to the left. In the middle we decided we needed to audit the government and publish it :) I spent the days at north Beach and City Lights Books. I have a feeling that Keruoac was onoxious. :)

I have thought long and hard about the five million dollar fund. I have listened and meditated on its flaws. I have truly heard peoples concerns and grievances. I know what we must do in my heart. I know many people agree with me. The flaw of the five million dollar fund is not that it was too big, but that it is too small and we are too big! This is a time of reflection and putting our house in order and preparing to begin again. We need to build these everywhere! We really need to begin a community building revolution! I know this is true! We need to create the five million dollar fund as a rotating idea that builds one in our community, the next, the next and the next, all over the country, all over the world. My god it amazes me that I thought so little of ourselves, that I thought so small. Art heals, communities create, we are beautiful and capable!

I LOVE SAN FRANCISCO! And the most beautiful thing about Salt Lake is waiting through my front door!

I spent my last day with Donna, Rick, debbie and family, and Orion. They came down to say goodbye. We bought books at City Lights, ate in North Beach and then cruised to Ocean Beach. I talked to the water and held our son. You are doing it kid! You make your papi proud! I love the ocean.

Thanks Melita, Kevin, Ale, Monica, Donna, Rick, Todd everyone. It was the perfect punctuation to this journey. Chapter 2 is on its way.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Roger and Me

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 17:26:00 +0000

San Francisco calls out to people, especially young people, "Come live here, you belong, we can squeeze you in." The city is dense. It desires to rise upward like New York, but fears the quaking Earth of the West Coast. Buildings reach about three to four stories and stop, not just close to the center though, all across the peninsula. Thus far, out of the hundred or so people that I have talked to only two have been from here. Every city has its culture. San Francisco is the only one I can honestly define as hip, Portland would be hippie. It's a wonder that it is not more bike oriented, especially with all the consciousness around recycling. You would think with such a perfect climate and social awareness more people would park their cars. When I move through the area and meet people I often think of Gina and David. It is strange, but I can now feel San Francisco on them, like they come from here. There is also this easiness around otherness that I haven't encountered in other places, except maybe for a few young students in Tacoma. Everyone, at least those that I have met, belongs to an eclectic community that easily transcends what would be cultural barriers in other places. I guess here, the primary barrier is education. Divisions exist quite tranparently between the educated and the un-educated, that brings out a little resentment in me. Even so, I love the city and its people. It's quite beautiful and throughout the day as the light changes, or the rain subsides, or the sun arrives, it changes its mood, its appearrance, almost like a beautifully hip woman with an extensive wardrobe that likes to dress for each occasion, sometimes changing her clothes three times in a day.

I awoke in the hammock in the loft at Red Poppy. I started off late because I had few appointments. My cold lingers. I emailed Roger Housden a couple of days ago. He wrote many books, but one that has been my guide along the journey, Ten Poems to Change Your Life. I decided to take a me day and left the mission, crossed over the pan handle, and rode through the Golden Gate Park. Roger lived in Sausalito on the other side of the bridge. On my way, I could not find the path through the upper park and it was against the law to ride along Highway 1. I met a man, Evan, who was riding out to the bridge and said he would show me the way. We talked while we rode. Evan had worked at a Buddhist monestary for ten years and was tired of it and quit. He was now looking for another job. I thought it was funny that a man worked for Zen monks for ten years and felt like he was getting nowhere; you got to love the irony. At the bridge he placed 40 dollars in my hand and told me to eat well for a couple of days and rode on. That was quite refreshing. I had been surving on one meal a day and cereal bars for the last week. I rode into Sausalito and ate a burger at a cafe that overlooked the bay and a Marina, damn it tasted good. At 3:00 I continued up the street to Roger's house.

Roger and I visited for about an hour and half and shared coffee. I could tell it pleased him to hear about my journey and the way his book inspired and guided me along the way. I think it is the book that was absent from my education. I reccomend it to everyone. He is a tall Londoner, living in a small hidden house nestled behind others in the hills of Sausalito. His place was cozy, not extravagant. Too little time, I was interested in his career as a writer and how he arrived here. He was interested in the stories of this bike ride. At one point he turned to me and said, "Sounds like you have a book." That was nice, because I wasn't begging the question, but it was what my soul wanted to hear. I left and stepped out onto the sidewalk on the crooked hill. Across the bay, the clouds broke and the sunlight colored the city. I recieved a call from a friend that I just received a small grant. Everyday I wrestle with the question, "Should I continue or go home?" The grant whispered, "Go forward." I thought about it, whichever way I am facing is forward. Exactly! You see, the seccret signs are even to obscure.

I crossed the Golden Gate again and took a picture of the place where Hitchcock filmed part of Rear Window down by the water. I then dropped down next to the bay and, with the sunsetting, I rode along a bike path at the water's edge and listening to the lapping water at heal of the city I imagined Ruby riding along with me. I could imagine the way she would love this ride, her contentment, her smile, her laughter, and the ways her eyes smile when she is happy. I called Ruby. We spoke on the phone while I rode around the bay. Today, we talked very little business and talked to each other. It was nice. We agree, people think we should be happy about having crumbs, but we are looking at the pie now. This center is going to happen, with us, despite us, whatever. It is growing. Tomorrow is a fundraising day. Today is a day to ride the bay and talk with Ruby, to be in love.

When Ruby got off the phone, I cut up through the hills and crossed the city. Damn, how I wanted to ride this city with her. I liked the streets, the shops, the hills, the houses, the people, the people, the people. I arrived back at The Red Poppy and had to pack my things to go to Melita's place, my home for the next three days. At the Red Poppy Meklit sat finishing some work. We talked briefly about music and such. She then put on a recording she just finished to let me hear. Wow! I do believe she has one of the sweetest voices on the planet. Her music! Her voice sank into my heart and I thought about Orion at College, Ruby at home, our life together, mom, and riding along the bay. Meklit seemed too young to sing so deeply. She seemed too happy, unscathed. I though about the writing I used to do in LA and in my heart I knew that Meklit was a star, not a pop-star, but a true artist, original, classy, talented. I know one day I will spend money to see her sing. The Red Poppy continues to amaze me with it's talent and personalities. Todd has outdone himself.

Some people lately keep sending me messages that this ride is quixotic, as if to persuade me I am on the wrong path, but I love Don Quixote. You know the Hispanic Chamber in Utah each year gives a Quixote award for small succeeding businesses. How appropriate! To believe in something so foolish, and see it come to fruition. Utah needs this center, Salt Lake needs it. This is not a question of me, Ruby, us, or them. We must build infrastructure with a new paradigm in our city. There is no reason our neighborhoods and communities should be excluded from shaping the story of Utah, of defining who we are, of helping to determine and point the pathway forward, and helping better to explain the story from which we came. We have a lot to offer and share and the city will only be more complete and better qualified to step forward by creating institutions like the one we are instigating. In my life, I have never been able to afford a ticket to the symphony or the opera. Yet, as a city we fund those organizations because we believe in the power of art. I have no objections to their existence and truly believe, despite my lack, that the city is better off with them than without them. I, therefore, do not complain about my tax dollars going to support those high end institutions. I am also aware that they do not exist on ZAP funds alone. Even so, because as a citizen I am willing to generously offer my money to create institutions, which will serve mostly other people than my community, I have no qualms about asking those people to equally share and help us build institutions that express other narratives, other ideas about art and it's place in society, and really other views, to share in the creation of institutions that speak to lives, dreams, struggles, and tastes of our communities, and most importantly create a place where we can participate despite our economic circumstances. We believe in the power of art to change lives and build community. So when we say 5,000,000 for an art center that will serve the city at large and thousands of local residents on a weekly basis, and then I look where we spend other monies and who bennefits and why and how many, I have to ask myself really, "Shouldn't we be trying to raise more?" 5 million is humble and trivial in the spectrum, and we are further carrying the mission of the state, the city and the art and humanity councils forward in so many ways. 5 million is so little, really. Let's be honest. This is not for us, it is for our city and our communities, help us build. Please do not ask us to focus on the crumbs when we can see the pie.

Thanks Todd for the food and a place to sleep.

Thanks Evan for the food.

Thanks everyone.

Thanks Ruby for everything, for being you.

I miss you Orion

Love you Mom, sis.

Mestizo still has the best Cappucinos.

burning fire in my chest

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 08:31:00 +0000

This morning I rode with Lorraine down to Pacifica. She showed me a cafe where she likes to sit and write on occasions. There, over coffee, we talked a while about decisions, intuitions, and responsibilities. Before leaving we climbed over the rocks and onto the beach. I stood with her a while and talked to the water. The waves were enormous and crashed and thundered as they broke on the beach. That's where I came from, I thought. The ocean, its sound, its immensity, its majesty always leaves me mesmerized. It calls to me like a long lost friend. I am not part of anything anymore when I stand in front of its enormity; I am a part of everything!

I have not been able to accomplish much in San Francisco thus far. Ihave been ill and I am still recovering. I have felt weak and tired. I think I might finally kick this thing. Now, I am turning my attention to sponsors. Trying to find sponsors for the ride as well as other opportunities.

I met Noemi today in the mission district and she introduced me to Todd and the Red Poppy Art House. I will stay there for the next few days. I have sleeping options for the rest of my stay, but food is still a mystery. This has become a real challenge. Sponsorship is increasingly more important.

Last night I lay in bed thinking about St. John of the Cross and the way he saw God in everything, in himself, in his heart. For Saint John we were all God and he referred to himself, as he watched his own self sleep, as the Beloved. I see beauty in everything lately. I thought about Arnold again and the Ocean. I left some tobacco in the grass at Lorraine's. My bike is covered in Tobacco prayers. Sometimes I believe in nothing. Some days everything seems sacred. Some days I think both are true at the same time.

I am riding because it is important to remember that the ridiculously impossible is possible. It is time to quit staring at the crumbs and look at the pie. From this ride we will build a community art center. That's what I know to be true.

Thanks Lorraine for friendship, food and shelter. Thanks Noemi for the hookup. Ruby and Orion, all my love, my life.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Golden Gate

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 23:59:00 +0000

We left San Rafael late, around 11:30, both Manuel and I had colds and tried to get as much sleep as possible and we only had to ride 23 more miles to our destination, 16 to the Golden Gate. Greg rode alongside us and Manny Jr. followed in a truck. We took side roads and bike paths that climbed steep forested roads through lush neighborhoods and at times the trees gave way to reveal the great bay, sailboats docked in marinas, the city blanketed over the peninsula, and the grandeur of the golden gate bridge. We rode through the rain and down green landscape on fine roads past luxurious houses. When we crossed into Larkspur I was dumbfounded at the beauty and splendor of the town. We passed an old catholic church. Next to it was a girl's school. On the play ground were hundreds of elementary school girls in uniform. They were engaged in some large school activity, running and shouting. Laughter roared from the playground, genuine happiness. We continued on about another half mile and found a lost puppy. We called and waited for the owner. She came running and thanked us. I gave her a postcard about the ride. I want to believe she payed attention. We rode on through the old area of Larkspur and the shear beauty and cleanness of the place made me sad for a moment. I wanted to step back 15 years, extrapolate Ruby, Orion and myself from our lives and set us down in Larkspur. I wanted to give rest us in this sleepy elegant town. I wanted Orion to run on the playground and laugh heartily. And then I remember, rich people kill themselves too. It would be nice though, to walk out one of these doors in the morning, and walk down to a coffeehouse, and think about a boat in the Marina.

We continued on until the area broke and we found a bike path running along a river that spilled into the bay. We paralleled that until we come to the town Sausalito with shops and homes that reached out and touched the sail boats docked in the Marinas. Manuel took pictures, he was ecstatic. My phone was dead and I couldn't take anymore. A short distance later we climbed the last hill and reached the Golden Gate Bridge. We stopped at the look out and relished our journey as the wind and rain whipped at us. We were proud! "This has changed my life," Manuel said. He was full of hope. I was full of hope. He and has two boys had changed mine even more. For the weekend, we were four believers riding against the wind and rain.

We crossed the bridge, pedaling hard against the wind. On the other side we met up with Manny Junior. Lorraine Garcia - Nakata (RCAF) offered to host me when I arrived to the city so we made our way towards her house, at first by running along the Golden Gate park and then cutting up to traverse five miles of San Francisco hills. We stopped and warmed ourselves in a coffeehouse on Ocean, then met up with Lorraine. San Francisco!

After three very wet days of riding we were dry again. To our delight, Lorraine prepared dinner for all of us. We devoured the meal fighting off a cold, the cold, and tired legs. We talked about art, change, happiness and individual responsibility. I feel ver lucky to have met Lorraine. I feel as though we should be cooking for her.

After dinner I said goodbye to Manny and his boys. It was a real treat having them along. It was great to see a father adventuring with his sons. I am already missing my boy, Orion. Manny has a genuine spirit full of kindness that has left its mark on his sons. When he said goodbye I saw tears pooling in his eyes. He too is inspired. I will surely miss all of them. They had received pledges to ride with me and raised money for every mile they rode. We could ride together a while. The kids had school though and he made a father's choice. I am forever grateful for their kindness. Such a short time to become such good friends. Gente!

Thanks Manny, Manny Jr. And Greg. It was a true joy. Que te vaya bien!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 18:04:00 +0000

Yesterday we all gathered over at Spanglish in Sacramento. A small group of people was there with us. Ebers, Manny, and his two sons rode with me. We left out past the Capitol. On the way from Sac to Davis, Greg's tire cuaght an edge in a groove in the road and he hit the pavement. We arrived at Rick and Donna's in Davis and ate lunch and doctored Greg's elbow. I said goodbye to Melissa and Steve, Rick and Donna, and then my boy Orion. Going to miss him.

We left Davis, rode across to Winters and then left the Sac Valley as we headed into Wine country towards Napa. Rain poured on us throughout the day. The skies were gray. The fields were green. Outside of Winters two long legged birds stood in a field, kind of mesmerizing.

Luis set us up a place with his friend Orlando in Napa. We arrived around 5 and Orlando, his partner, Angela and her friend had prepared shrimp pasta. We played dominos and went to bed early. I am trying to kick a severe cold and the rain doesn't help.

The last few weeks have been great, but trying. Really want to sleep in my own bed, but I really want to build this center. So much to do. It's hard to get people behind a common goal, no matter how decent the goal is.

Thanks Orlando, Angela and Allison for food friendship and a place to stay.

Thanks Meli and Steve for everything, support, friendship and you name it, watch out for my boy. Thanks Rick and Donna and Xico for all your support and friendship and taking care of Orion. Bye Natalia and Caleb, let's adventure sometime.

Goodbye Sac and Davis!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Talking about Arnold without his permission even though I don't know him very well.

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 08:52:00 +0000

When Lu suggested I speak to Arnold about the ride before I left, I thought about it a while, then called another friend, Forest who thought it would be good to talk to Arnold as well. I looked up Arnold and did some reading about him; I learned that he shot himself in the head 20 years prior (not telling anything he doesn't say). I quickly understood that he knew something about life that would benefit me and aide me in this journey. When he spoke I could hear him. His voice was quite and authoritative without being arrogant, loaded with compassion. And when he spoke he said. "The way I was taught was that..." and he explained what he was going to do next without any certainty, but a trust in what he had learned and from whom he had learned it. He was honest. The entire journey I could not put my finger on what it was that allowed him to get through to me. And now I know, I listened. And now I know, tonight, after visiting Xico's class something about what I think he understands.

My life, like everyone else's I suppose, has not been easy and I have had my own share of troubles. I have been beaten, desperate, alone and wary. I have hated myself and been desolate in every sense of the word. I have walked through the valley. And luckily, I have had the good fortune to climb the mountain. And today, I summited and looked over the peak.

In presenting at Xico's class to about a 120 students I was humbled. Near the end of the presentation students stood up one by one and walked down there aisles and laid 1s, 5s and 20 dollar bills on the table offering support to our vision. They left 165 dollars on the table. I was dumbfounded and truly lost in the decency and hope that these young kids carry in their heart. It made me think that perhaps Arnold has grown accustom to noticing that first in the people he meets and that is the reason that it was so easy to listen to him, to hear him. I can still hear him now. But I don't know him very well and I am just speculating, but I think I know him well anyway.

When we left and walked across the campus Xico offered me a piece of sage he had picked earlier that day along the river. It was fresh and sill held the sweet smell of the desert. I held it to my nose breathed the aroma deeply until I held it in my heart. I thought of the night I left and Arnold and has burning sage. I thought of Xico standing in the class calling out "Despierta! Despierta!" Wake up! I thought of Orion plucking his guitar. I thought about Ruby and my life. And I thought about the students. Despierta! I'm awake and standing on the summit. I can see! At least for now.

Thanks to Chicano Studies 10 at UC Davis. Thanks to Donna and Rick for fighting the good fight. Thanks to Meli and Steve. Thanks to Natalia and Caleb for the movies. Thanks to everyone back home. Thanks Xico! Sometimes a piece of sage is much more than a piece of sage.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 20:03:00 +0000

Today, I am charged again. I am ready to ride. Ruby called me this morning and we talked about the difficulty of being away and honestly considered the possibility of ending the effort, the ride. She then got to Mestizo and opened the mail. An inmate sent a piece of art work with a letter. He spoke highly of Mestizo and applauded us in our effort to create a permanent space. He was from our neighborhood, arrested for aggravated assault at 17 and now he is 32. While he claims his own responsibility he wrote eloquently about the need for positive space. Ruby was moved. I was moved. I asked her to write him and ask if we can publish the letter. It was a stark reminder of what set us on this path so many years ago.

This Thursday I will present at a class at UC Davis and then again at Soul Collective - a new art effort by kindred spirits in Sac. I will be very sad to leave Sac and Davis. I have many new friends. Orion has been embraced by many. That really settles my heart, so many good people around him. I will leave him here and ride on this weekend.

I am full of trepidation again. Not as prepared as I hoped to be. Feeling a little on my own at the moment, even though it is not true. But still not quite sure where I will stay or eat. Got some places planned out and some events, but it is what it is I suppose. Been on a computer for three weeks now and it is making my skin crawl. I need to ride off the anxiety.

Thanks to everyone !
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Life

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 07:13:00 +0000

"Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." --John Lennon

We celebrated the new year with Donna and Rick, Natalia and Friends. I awoke in 2010 with people wishing us well in our endeavor. We were able to take a small trip to Santa Cruz with Donna and Rick where Orion toured the campus. I was delighted that my son might go to such a beautiful school. For Ruby and I, college was nothing more than a pipe dream. That was for "those people over there who had all that stuff." Neither of us knew how to even pursue it, yet we both did. We stumbled more than most, especially with no mentors. But we finished. If either of us had ever held onto only what seemed possible, well... I would be on the streets, and I can't speak for her.

More than three months now I have been on this journey. Ruby and my mother flew out for the holidays. Mom was grieving the loss of her partner of 20 years. Ruby, like me, felt the sting of our boy leaving home. Orion relished the excitement of new beginnings and new horizons. It has been nice to spend time in the holidays, but now everyone is gone. We have met lots of wonderful people and have received much support. I have been making calls and trying to arrange places and people to contact between here and LA. It has been tough. I have been trying to get materials ready and knock out some grants. The magnitude of the task is with me daily now. Back home, it has quieted.

Orion and I went with Xico the other day to visit a High School. They ate dinner and gave presents. It was nice to see community taking care of each other. Just seven more days and I am back on the blacktop. I feel nervous now. I feel like I am beginning again, but this time there is not a hundreds of people sending me off. I have always known it was not possible for me to raise 5 million. We can do it together. Will we hit critical mass? All we need to do is have people move just a little. That is all. I just feel if we start moving again, together, on these community endeavors, a little at a time, we will become unstoppable. We can do it again and again.

So I feel.

I wish everyone well.

thanks Xico and Victoria, Rick and Donna, for all your support. Much Peace and Love

HAPPY NEW YEAR

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 10:22:00 +0000

I have awoke in Davis, California on the first day of 2010. Once again, I feel like a tumbleweed blown across the desert floor. I have to ask myself at times, "what the fuck? What the fuck were you thinking Terry? How cold you possibly believe that we could raise 5 million?" Doubt has haunted me from day one. It has been like the enemy that hides behind parked cars and in the alleyways, ready to jump out and scare me in Seattle, Portland, Boise. It has been 3 months and we have yet to raise 5 million. It sounds funny to say it, 3 months. Everyday since I left it has taken all my inner strength, not to peddle, but to step out on an adventure with the responsibility of raising 5 million dollars, the foolishness of the act has always been transparent. Please, if you see me, do not point that out :) I have always known that I was incapable of doing it and that I am incapable of inspiring others in an Obama-like way. I am, in every sense of the word, ordinary. I am okay with that. I left though, because I was inspired. I looked into the faces of the people around me, the opportunities before us, and the possibility of losing ground, and I was moved. I found an inner strength I have never held before and none of that came from me. It was placed in me by the youth and community around me. I am inspired. It has been my hope that I can connect with others who feel the same. Who are ready to step forward and turn the impossible into a possible.

This last week though, with Ruby and Orion, I have met with Hector Gonzalez, Juan Cervantes, Jose Montoya and Loraine Garcia-Nakata, all RCAF members. I listen to their stories. I hear about their internal conflicts, personal struggles, achievements and failure and then I look at the history they left us and I am grateful that they walked on. I am reminded that they are human and at times they lived with heavy hearts, yet created anyway. I see it in Xico too, as he continues, despite discouragement and then I see how, despite his own difficulties how he touched the lives of so many people when he came to SLC. I need those reminders, especially with such little resources. 5 million? Can we really change the infrastructure and leave a permanent mark on SLC, or is it just a fantasy? Maybe it will take 4 months? :)

and still I hear that French prayer again and again.

"Oh lord, this ocean is so big, and my boat is so small."

I am here trying to plan out the trip through Southern California. Since I have left, I have received hundred if not thousands of messages from Facebook, email, etc.. People telling me of loved ones who have died. People searching for meaning. People reaching out to help others. It amazes me when they point to the ride and me as their source of inspiration, because they are my source. It is surprising how raw and vulnerable I feel, almost embarrassing. It is like if five people tell me to quit it will be enough to break me, so I feel. I have been riding a very difficult edge in my own spirit. Every inspiring word lifts me. Every discouragement and doubt becomes weight I carry. Sometimes I am lifted so high I feel like I can fly. Sometimes the weight is so heavy I don't feel like I can even stand in the morning. I try to pick and choose, but I can't, because in reality, it has nothing to do with me, the inspiration is coming from others and the desire to have something in our community, the desire to live in a world where we can create together and really make those changes that have been talked about for years.

My mother joined us a few days ago. Her partner died a couple of weeks ago and she did not want me to return home, so she came to join me through the holidays. Last night I sat with new friends and family celebrating the new year. It is hard to believe I can feel so close to people I have only recently met or spent time with. Davis and Sac has been a home away from home. A couple of days ago, Ruby, Orion, my mother and I spent the day with Loraine Garcia-Nakata. I was completely impressed at her kindness, wisdom and strength. She reminds me of Cindy at Habitat, and Maria at Neighborworks. They all have this ability to negotiate personalities and problem solve, to bring organizations forward. She schooled both Ruby and I while showing us her work. She unrolled her drawings, spread them on the floor and told us stories. We listened to Keb Mo and Joe Cocker. She talked to us about running large organizations and accomplishing tremendous goals. And reminded each of us, that a drop in the bucket makes a difference.

Thanks to all the guys and Loraine at RCAF for stepping up. Thanks Juan, Hector, Jose, Loraine for spending time with me and my family. Thanks Loraine for dinner. Thanks Mari and Manny for being so gracious. Thanks Xico for all your help and your and your partner Victoria for dinner. Thanks Donna and Rick for hosting us, and Natalia fo organizing the New Year get together and the conocimiento. Thanks Meli and Steve for allowing us to gather here for the holidays.

Thanks to everyone on this BLOG for checking in. On the right is a little button you can click if you would like to follow this journey, become a follower, it is about to get interesting.

If it seems like it is taking a long time to raise this money and build this center, just remember, it is 5 million dollars :)

check out more pictures here http://www.flickr.com/photos/mestizoarts/sets/72157622991285085/

Dancing in the street

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 19:51:00 +0000

You see it is all a dance. We are turning, coming together and embracing. We are then flung from the center outward where our extended hands lock with only the tips of our fingers, just enough to retain the tension that pulls us inward, to the center, to embrace again. Occassionally in one single motion, the grasp is broken and we part, momentarily. Waiting. Anticipating a return to each others arms, until the dreaded day, the day we never want to face, when by fate or choice one partner does not return and two hands clasp no longer. The last few days here in Davis has been that moment, that moment when after being parted, we are spun into each other's arms to embrace once more, but knowing, in just a few steps, a few anticipated steps, we will be flung apart again.

Here we are in Davis. Our lives and thoughts are tossed and spun in a thousand directions. We have just registered our son for college and here he will stay. When we arrive home, our home will be changed. We are committed to building this institution, Ruby and I, and so many others, but the weight of the institution is upon us. The ride? is it successful? I think so, but I am only one person. The ideas that everyone brings to the table? The coffeehouse? our Mothers? All these things twirl inside us each one of them calling out choose me, I am the most important. Somehow, the loudest voice right now, even in this reprieve, is the art center and museum. While it is so, we will step in that direction. We are listening to our hearts now. That is not comforting to many. Least of all, myself and Ruby. We wish we had more to go on than that. We are clear that we began this with very little resources, but we felt we had something good that others would want. And we had faith in our ability, but more importantly, in the ability of those around us to help us work through the defects and find the strengths. This is where we are, the question we have to live with is do we retreat, do we struggle along hoping things will change, or do we step forward with confidence and build something even in our own ignorance? All are painful and difficult responses and demand a huge amount of effort. All have the risk of failure and embarassment. It seems logical though, if we have to spend the same amount of effort and difficulty, then let's do it for something grand.

We spent the other day with Hector and Juan from the Royal Chicano Air force, which has touched me to the core. I watched as they walked around with Ruby telling the story of the Mural they did at the park and the time they spent with Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta organizing. I love watching Ruby in her zone. She was beaming. With Orion against the giant colorful walls I wondered about the path he will choose. And the stories... Indeed, it was their work, Juan and Hector, as well as many others, that inspired us to take the path we have chosen. They affirm our choices just by meeting them, then spending the holidays with people like Donna and Rick who have followed our story and now have joined the efforts to encourage and support us in this endeavor. It all feeds hope and gives strength to inspiration. These are where my thoughts are on the holidays. My gift, the greatest gift though, has been spending time with my family.

My body wants to ride now. It has become accustomed. My soul vacilates from completing what we set out to do and sitting here with Orion and Ruby forever.

Today, Christmas, 2009 we will join Donna and Rick to take food to others less fortunate. I feel a true joy just being alive. I am merry on this Christmas. I have changed. I find the greatest obstacle confronting me, no longer comes from within; I believe change is possible; I believe our efforts, no matter how small, count for something. I won't allow my own ignorance, inability, or apathy to be the driving force in my life. I am okay with working in the dark. I believe we can build this center, and then another and another and another. I will work towards that until I walk in the door. As I see it, there is no alternative. I am asking now, for guidance and help along this journey. all we need is 4,980,000 dollars. that is only 10 dollars from 498,000 people. That seems doable.

I love you Mom and I am sorry for your loss. I have come to learn that although he was quite the curmudgeon, he loved you dearly, and for that I am thankful.

Thanks Mari for Lunch at Tapa of the World.
Thanks Juan and Hector for the mini tour.
Thanks Donna and Rick for good food and good company.
Thanks Meli and Steve again and again and again for so much support throughout this journey and offering our son a safe space as he begins his new journey into manhood.

peace and love to everyone and help us if you can learn to dance better. :)

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 20:47:00 +0000

As Ruby's slide show ended Orion broke into song with Cancion Mixteca. In the back of the room a couple of people joined in. "Quisiera llorar, quisiera morir... de sentimiento." With Ruby and Orion with me the night was perfect. A few monmths ago, just before I left, Xico Gonzales came to Salt Lake to give a workshop. While there he learned about this ride and offered to help us along the way when I arrived in Sacramento. He also told me they would find someone to do a limpia. He arranged the presentation at Spanglish Arte, Meli, Rick and Donna helped get the word out. During the Q & A Xico interrupted because a guest had arrived, I think she was on her way to a posada. Xico had indeed arranged a limpia, I was surprised, but I was truly in need.

The blessing that Arnold gave me before I left set me in the right frame of mind. The difficulties of fund-raising along the way, and the strong personalities, as well as responsibilities and family difficulties back home, all these things sometimes overwhelm my thoughts and heart, leaving me confused and distraught. I left for a reason, I left because the deepest and most decent part of me spoke loudly and clearly, a rare occurrence, and said do something, leave, I should do this. It was never about me. It was always about what felt and seemed right and what felt right was to build this place regardless of what it takes. This is not an esoteric artistic endeavor but a practical solution that compliments and inspires other forms of community building and revitalization. It is an answer and a step in the right direction. It is good and will provide goodness. These are the facts, simple, yes, but clear and honest? Clear as cool spring water. So few times in our lives do we get that sort of clarity and it is very fortunate when it comes.

Xico's friend came in, the woman giving the limpia, and told me I need to open up. She talked to me about putting myself in the right frame of mind as she smudged. I listened. Everything became clear once again. When I remove my own ego from the equation, I remember, this has nothing to do with me. I just ride and present.

The next night Meli an Steve set up another event at their house. I have enjoyed meeting people along the way and I have found support and friendship wonderful, and sometimes, unusual places. Here in Davis though, I am feeling a home away from with many kindred spirits. Many people are joining and arranging events. I am getting everything together. We have a great learning curve. I am excited and inspired again. I will publish the route in a couple of days.

Peace and love to everyone.

Thanks Xico, Mari at Spanglish, Meli and Steve, Franciso, Donna and Rick, and, of course, Ruby and Orion.

Love you mom

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 01:04:00 +0000

"Even if the world ends tomorrow, I will plant my seeds today." MLK.

These were the words that read across the screen at Greg Mortensen's presentation on Saturday in Sacramento. Natalia, Melissa's friend, invited me. I went. He is the author of Three Cups of Tea. The words struck home. It made me think how trivial my own struggles are and when I read that quote it really makes me think about how many times a giant like him sat and wondered if, in fact, the world would end tomorrow, yet he planted anyway.

Saturday in SLC a fundraisng event was held, that yielded 3000 more. To the people in SLC I just want to say that this is the place that I was raised as well as Ruby. Mestizo is the place we never had. The profes and community leaders are the people we couldn't find to guide us back then (though some of them existed). The community of people that are there for each other that are reaching out and taking care of each other are the people we wish we could have shared more intimately with our families. Today, Ruby sent a picture of Ernie, her brother, on Facebook. He was a good man. You would have liked him and his life would have been better if he had known all of you, as well as my brother, Ray. I know this because I know it is true for us. The work you all do often stands as a barrier between the youth and community and the complexes and disempowerment that I feel safe to say, we felt in our youth. Moreover it also acts as a lifeline for people like me, who at a young age felt like I had drifted so far my feet would never touch shore again. I have watched you all, day to day, as I served coffee, create miracles. You are, indeed, the most beautiful people in the world. What you guys did with this bloodbank fundraiser is humbling. I feel so very fortunate to be able to work with you all. Thank you for your efforts and allowing me to be part of your lives.

I anxiously await Ruby and Orion. After the holidays Orion will remain here in Davis, Ruby will return home and I will ride to San Fran. The clock keeps ticking, right? I confess, though I am happy that he is pursuing his own dream, I still want a few more years. The holidays will be nice.

Xico Gonzalez set up an event for us on Friday. Ruby and I will present, and hopefully Orion will play guitar. I am trying to set up more events now and working on everything with the help of Steve. Tomorrow I should have a draft of the route. If anyone reading this knows anywhere to present or press or anything, then please let me know. We are formulating the plan for San Francisco down to Southern Cal.

Thanks Meli and Steve for your help and hospedaje :). Thanks Ric and Donna for the Sushi. (Yes, I finally met the mysterious Donna, Evil Knievel Donna, Rick - Dude Now I know why you are so happy)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Circles

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 09:01:00 +0000

Meli and Steve welcomed me into their home in Davis. Nice to finally see someone I know. I got settled in. We spoke about the project; for those of you who don't know, Meli is a board member of the organization and Steve, her partner, has been building the site and supporting. I will stay here through the holidays and plan out the next phase. So far the presentations have been difficult. We are going to iron out the kinks and I need to mentally prepare for the journey ahead.

Tonight I was humbled again as I entered the new opening of a Taller in Woodland. Woodland is just outside Davis, California. They were celebrating the opening of their new art space. The space was a prefab building built with red Iron and sheet metal. Sheet rock walls were built inside for the purpose of displaying art. I notice the building because I spent a year climbing the iron, spiking holes with a spud wrench, slipping in a bolt with one hand, while I held on for dear life with the other, legs locked into and around the iron to give support with 20 lbs of tools and over-sized bolts hanging from my belt. I walked away from that life and into college a little over 20 years ago. Now here I am. Life coming full circle once again.

Several years ago I was asked by a magazine to write a review from a book of poems, El Otro Lado del Noche (The Other Side of Night) written by Francisco X Alarcon. One of the poems struck me and I shared it with Ruby. It affirmed a way we kind of looked at the world and we embraced it. The name of that poem was Mestizo. Tonight, I join in a celebration of a new art center built in the community by two Profes from UC Davis and many others I am sure. Francisco X Alarcon reads for the inaugural event. For me, he reads the poem Mestizo. The whole place, the event, the moment in time, Davis, Steve and Meli, Francisco, and even Orion, it has me spinning, circle upon circle. I am disoriented and alive. Meli there in SLC at our first forming of the non-profit. I am here at an art center watching others grow our vision/ their vision with their local university. The poem read by it's author that lines our door. Orion moving to Davis with Meli and Steve. And the building. Many hard working hands conspired to hang these prints on these walls.

MESTIZO

my name
is not
Francisco

there is
an Arab
within me

who prays
five times
each day

behind
my Roman
nose

there is
a Phonecian
smiling

my eyes
still see
Sevilla

but
my mouth
is Olmec

my dark
hands are
Toltec

my cheekbones
fierce
Chichimec

my feet
recognize
no border

no rule
no code
no lord

for this
wanderer's
heart

By Francisco X Alarcon

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Around the bend

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 08:26:00 +0000

Sleeping with a cold nose seems the norm in The North West. I think it is an environmentalist thing. People conserve, imagine that. The cold keeps me humble. California will be a treat now. It is bitter cold now; it cuts to the bone and keeps me in touch with the reasons why I started. Listening to the growing support back home does nothing for my feet, but keeps my heart warms as hell.

My life has changed on this ride. I am losing any conceptual grasp of my own limitations; I wouldn't have thought I had it in me. I am becoming the observer. I am taking charity from people who might have disliked me in other circumstances. At times I feel like a beggar, either for help from home or along the way. In another time of my life I would have felt humiliated. Now I have this fire burning that transcends everything and I see only one purpose, the art center. It seems like we do need a reminder that we can really make huge changes, and this space will be that reminder. People will continue to point to it and say, "if they can do it, then we can too." My perceptions of people have drastically transformed. I really like people and see more clearly how we are all just trying to figure it out. I am becoming more me. I can peddle through doubt, ride through despair, live with fear, be thought of as a fool, and still stay on the path, even with my soul feeling like it is ripped in shreds. Even when I feel bad I feel good now. I feel like the F?#*ing Energizer Bunny. :)

There have been so few times in my life when I have been absolutely certain of what is the right path. these moments of clarity are rare. I see clearly for now.

Thanks Scott, Charity and TJ for the food and the place to stay and the momentary diversion.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

"Oh lord, the ocean is so big and my boat is so small."

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 08:01:00 +0000

When I left Corvalis I had much more confidence in this journey. Many people have called this ride a mission. I have never thought of it that way, especially coming from Utah; mission has such a specific connotation. Others have called it an adventure. That too has seemed wrong; adventures lie in my mind next to excursions with a little more activity and excitement. But a journey seems to imply accomplishing something while learning the necessary skills to accomplish something even greater. The time in Corvallis illuminated much. Cindy's wisdom with organizational development really showed me how great the impasse was between my abilities, and perhaps our organization's, and hers. This, I believe, was one of the most important stops along the way. Jeff, her husband, taught at the local high school. He too was quite illuminating. He taught sciences and had arranged bikes for his entire classroom. They rode to the woods, planted trees, studied the rivers. Their work transcended the classroom and resulted in policies and treatments of the rivers and such. I was amazed. I really enjoyed their company and I knew I was going to miss them. I knew from the time with them that I was really on a journey to help build an organization, not only financially, but in every sense of the word. They shifted my focus. I am now going to seek out organizers, community builders, artists, writers and such.

The country road along the Willamette River cut through green farm fields with trees stripped of their leaves for the winter. Mist hung over the countryside. Quiet and serene, almost haunting, I felt for a moment as if I were in another country. Winter has arrived. I can keep my hands warm now with a second set of gloves but my feet freeze. It reminds of my childhood, stomping through the snow. No snow here though, just coldness and thin socks in riding shoes. I just kind of get used to it and forget about it.

I feel the love from comments both here and on facebook. Support is growing and so many people back home and in Cali are working with us now. People really want to make a miracle.

A journey seems right. There is so much I need to know.

Paz to anyone reading this. I wish you well.

Thanks again Cindy and Jeff and thanks to the Beanery.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 23:40:00 +0000

"Every town should have a building like this," Earl said. "A place for the wayfarer." He's right. I don't know how it would be possible, but I like the idea. Perhaps it is idealistic, yet one exists here in this town, if you can call it that. Summit is a small community of artists, writers, hippies and others, many of whom dropped off the Earth in the Back to the Garden Movement and went to the woods to live without electricity or any of the modern conveniences. Here, sitting in this old church that was moved from the top of a hill a quarter mile away nearly 40 years ago, men of all ages and backgrounds gather to play poker once a week on Wednesday nights: artists, writers, skilled workers and such. Someone shows up early to light the fire in the woodburning stove and get the room ready. A tradition that has continued since the Church was moved. Cindy, my new friend and host, drove me out to the woods because I asked her to show me where she lived in a tent for several years and we came upon this place. The church resides on a small rode hidden deep in the woods surrounded by maple trees covered in green moss and reaching towards the sky.

"We moved this here," she told me, "so that anyone passing by could come in, rest and get warm, so that a stranger might have a place to stay the night on their journey." This is what Earl alluded to with his declaration. They moved the church and made it an open town center in the early seventies.

"You have arrived here?" Jeff hollered at me on the front porch as we left. "Do you know what the odds of someone like you coming here and finding this place IN SUMMIT? That is prophetic! Your journey must be blessed." I wanted to believe that was true and, admittedly, sometimes I do. My heart burns with purpose on this journey. I feel we must complete our institute and I can't shake it. Jeff pointed to the rode, "that is the very same road that Least traveled just before he wrote Blue Highways." Jeff was an accomplished writer himself.

I spent an hour or so, soaking it all in and playing poker with the men. I realized that in my life I had never really shared this sort of camaraderie. Earl was great and he lent me a buck so I could play and he taught me. He is in his seventies I heard, and supposedly a prominent artist. I felt instantly a friend and knew he was wise though he said little. He quietly helped me learn the rules of the game and offered me wheat thins. He exuded kindness. Cindy played the piano in the corner. I was at peace for a while as I bet Earl's nickels. Nobody was here to win, just to share space. Something about sharing space strengthens the heart.

Cindy has been great. She helped turn around the local Habitat for Humanity and raised 2.5 million for the organization and then used some creativity to make it sustainable. She is wise beyond measure and 20 years in the woods, literally living off the land, have clearly turned her into a creative problem solver. She is an incredible organizer. It seems that more women are better at the skills I need to make this work than men (I have to think about that a while). She accomplishes so much with so few resources, even her house along the river is amazing. She trades, barters and solves. The last few days have been a much needed education. I know more about the journey I am on now. I know I need to seek out people like her, artists, writers, organizers.... creators and community builders. Corvallis has been a tremendous epiphany; I am on this journey to learn.

Thanks Cindy and Jeff for the hospitality and education, food and lodging. Thanks to the guys in summit, for two dollars, and something else (can't quite put my finger on it.)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

LOST

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 07:20:00 +0000

My fingertips are frozen. I need a cup of coffee to warm them, hold the warm porcelain cup in the palm of my hands. I am more tired today than usual. Corvallis seems further in the cold. Is it colder than yesterday or does it just feel colder? I can't tell anymore. I think it's colder. I could check, but what good would that do? It would have been nice to ride back with Ruby and Orion and climbed into my own bed.

While I am starting to see the route more clearly I am beginning to see me less clearly, except when I am standing next to Orion. When I am next to him I can say to myself, I am his father. In those moments nothing else matters. Out here peddling, I am not sure what's left apart from husband or father, I am. I have a coffee house. I am a... Cyclist? I am. Isn't that enough?

The tree line in the distance rises through a smokey mist that hangs over the entire landscape. Thousand of geese swarm the sky. Birds chirping and squawking from every direction; it almost sounds like an aviary. The trees are wet and green with moss. The road is wet. My socks are wet. And I am lost.

I have lost myself along the way, in every sense of the word. Now with the coldness on my breath I am staring once again at what is right and true. I can't explain in any way that would satisfy logic or reason, but I was summoned by my entire being to step out on this journey. We are supposed to create this art center/ museum. It is supposed to exist. That's just a fact that I know now. And it has nothing to do with me. If I could just turn this feeling off, then I could climb into my own bed. But I can't. It would be like faling to feed a child, or forgetting to drink water. I am lost. I don't understand, but I know everything is going to be okay.

Thanks Kristi and Barbara at the Beanery for the food and coffee. Thanks Lisa and Tom for the place to stay, the granola bars, and biscuits and gravy.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Peddling dreams

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 00:28:00 +0000

The last few days have been nothing short of spectacular. When I left for this journey I had no idea how much pain it was going to bring me to spend time away from my family. The last few days that pain has fled. Sitting with Orion, I have reconciled myself to the fact that he is moving away. We ate Turkey with Ruby's cousins. We hung out at Powell's Books. We wandered the Saturday Market, watched Bronson at the hotel, drank coffee at Stumptown, and spent an hour and a half in line at Voodoo Doghnuts. We spent time together. I get one more opportunity in Sacramento to spend time in the holidays with him. He will then enter a new life and I will peddle on with mine, working my way back to Ruby.

I can't really write anymore. It is cold and my body is chilled. The ride to Salem was lonely. I left them this morning and my mind dwells on the project and them. I am anxious. I have such high expectations I suppose. I am ready for this to fly. It seems so natural, that at some point people will realize we are creating something good and will want to help it into fruition. Why wouldn't they? Am I naïve to think this way?

Thanks to Sophia and family for letting us stay the night. Thanks to everyone for your support.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Happy T Day

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 03:51:00 +0000

For the Anniversary of My Death

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveler
Like the beam of a lightless star

Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And the shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what

by W. S. Merwin
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 18:32:00 +0000

Some days I just want to smoke. Pinch the tobacco between my fingers. Spill it evenly into the thin paper. Wrap it, roll it, lick it and light it. Damn, some days it just seems so sweet to sit out on a boardwalk, to sit in the morning drizzle and smoke, but I don't smoke, anymore. And that's a good thing, most days. It never goes away. If I ever find out I am dying I am going to drive to the Oregon Coast and smoke, for now I will just tuck back in my memory as another harmful piece of life that I am leaving behind.

They never leave you, those peaces of yourself that you leave in the past so you can get on with the business of living. When I walk Into towns like Aberdeen and see the beaten down men and women making asses out of themselves as they struggle to feed their addiction, I cringe. I cringe because in them I see myself and nearly everyone I have ever loved. I intimately recognize the face of despair that walks closely at their side bullying them into to submitting their last drops of hope and self respect for momentary reprieves. It's impossible for a person to walk away from all of that full of pride; proud of one's accomplishments. It would be like a soldier walking away from a battle, whose comrades had fallen, and he boasts about his marksmanship. It just doesn't happen. If you are lucky you get to feel gratitude for having survived, and mourn the loss and the wounds of those you had to leave behind, if you're lucky. I'm a lucky man to have loved such great men and women. Many of whom I miss dearly. Many of whom I have asked for a cigarette on a rainy night.

In Astoria, I see the faces of men and women who belong to the fading logging industry. Tourism promises to stand between their quaint town and despair. Time will tell, but it sure has enough beauty to bet on. Then again, every place I have been does; they are all full of people; people can be beautiful.
As a man who has tasted the bitterness of despair and humbled into a state of compassion, I know that kindness truly is the only thing that matters and can only be expressed through action. I have chosen to take action to help light a spark that will hopefully start a fire, a fire that will spread into other communities. Is this foolish? Probably. Is it worthwhile? most definitey. Can we accomplish this task? That part is out of my hands. I will take action anyway. Join us in this humble effort to make a difference.

Thank you Chris and Jenni for your friendship. Thank you Neil for the room and the burrito.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Small

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 06:05:00 +0000

The vastness of the ocean fills me with awe; I am nothing more than a pebble that could be swept away in a single wave. I feel insignificant at times against the elements, or standing in front of these thundering waves. Some days I feel so strong that I don't think anyone could take me down, so strong I feel dangerous. Other days I awake feeling like a pathetic clown. That's okay though, life has taught me how to survive both humility and humiliation. Tomorrow I am going to try and meet Amy Goodman from Democracy Now and see if we can capture her interest. Who knows? I put it out to the virtual universe and Facebook said go, as well as Ruby. So I stayed on another day in Astoria and going to give it a try. "Why would she talk to me?" I ask myself. I am nothing. I have no credentials. I feel foolish on days like this. We need someone with more of a reputation if we want to make this happen. Who am I to think I have anything to say? Is that boldness, arrogance or stupidity?

I see the extraordinary in the ordinary. I have never seen anything more beautiful than watching Orion's hands grow to fit a guitar, Ruby's stillness when she paints. "That's because you love them," someone might say. But I see it in Esteban's custom bike, Mack's cappuccinos and even when the dogs, Sara and Chavo, play like children. Today, I see it in Chris as he drives the beach making sure his dogs are happy, I see it in his dog chasing the birds in the tide, I see it in the logs on the beach. Who is Chris? I don't know, but here we ride in his mobile home on the sands of the Oregon coast and I see it in him. "Many things conspired to tell me the whole story..."

Astoria is such a beautiful city. The colorful tall wooden houses, the bridges, the rainy streets, the people ducking in and out of the rain, the Godfather Bookstore, and Jenny's Ariki healing haven, the Columbia, the ocean, they have all joined together here in some marvelous harmony, and off in the distance I hear someone playing the blues. I love this little populated mound sticking up out of the mouth of the Columbia.

a pebble, a grain of sand. Is it possible for me to affect people the way they affect me? Is an ordinary person on a bike, full of hope, worth listening to? If only I had credentials. If only I were a movie star, then maybe my thoughts would have value :)

I hope the waves don't wash this pebble away any time soon. Life is truly Beautiful, just like Chris said.

Thanks to Fort George for the sausage plate. Thanks to Jenny for my first Reiki and Thai food. Thanks Chris for the Burrito (yes it was good) and thanks for taking me around.

I saw a sea lion! And it barked at me!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Love is a verb

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 22:42:00 +0000

Rusty metal sculptures of animals and people lined the streets of Raymond. They were magnificent and seemed anachronistic, almost, in the old logging town. In the middle of the night, on my way to the hotel room, they scared the hell out of me more than once. To turn around in the middle of the night, and find a life size figure standing next to you in the shadows can be quite shocking.

The rain did not subside, but I had to move on. I left Raymond and rode through South Bend. I was riding along the side of an estuary or something when a traveler, Andy Thomas, showed mercy on me and offered me a ride. He was headed to Southern California. Talk about temptation. I could have left the rain behind. He dropped me at a coffeehouse in Astoria, which was nice. I was told that it was unsafe for bikes to cross, especially in the rain. The bridge crosses the mouth of the Columbia
Andy lists himself on his card as an adventurer. He rented a car for the week in San Diego and drove a friend to Park City, then up to Seattle and was now coming down the coast. We talked about life and such and at one point he told me "Love is a verb, it requires action." He's right. He told me I could use that on a T-shirt if I wanted, but I would have to give him one. I told him I would.

Love is a verb... That is the root of this adventure. We have moved on this so fast that some of what has been written is incorrect. We are not engaged in preventing the bad in our community and youth, but revealing the beauty. We aim to change the focus away from prevention and towards empowerment and community building. When we look out at our communities, we do not see people we need to help and teach, who are problems and incapable, rather people who can teach us and lead us. We have faith that thay/we are intelligent people who want good lives. We want to make sure the proper infrastructures are in place to take full advantage of the gifts they/ we have to offer. Love is an action word and we see it as our responsibility to take action and begin building these kinds of institutions. We are a gathering of individuals and organizations, none of whom claim to be leaders or keepers of the wisdom, just people acting in solidarity to bring about positive change, change that will act as a catalyst and grow exponentially. Love is indeed a verb, an action verb.

I sit now overlooking the tumultuous waters and eating crab pasta, (nice one Walter). Astoria is an old port town that crawls over rolling hills with shops and piers and boardwalks. It is the off season. I see people now that escaped my eye in the past, people who sit by themselves and stare blankly out windows or at books shelves and I wonder about their lives. I am sure they love someone or have loved someone that rests out there beyond their vision.

Thanks to Baked Alaska Company for the food. Thanks to Astoria coffeehouse for lunch and a Cappuccino and thanks to Norblad Hostel and Hotel for the Room. Thanks Andy for pulling me out of the rain.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Come as you are

noreply@blogger.com (Terry--Tereso--) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 20:09:00 +0000

Leif, at the Viadette in Montesano, was pleased to speak with me about the journey and the reasons why we are doing it. The article will come out on Thanksgiving. He then directed me towards a radio station in Aberdeen. I called them on the phone and they said come on in let's sit down and talk. Aberdeen is one of those childhood far away north places that has lingered curiously in my mind for 30 years. Despite everyone's efforts to divert me away from the old logging town, I was on my way.

On the short ride to Aberdeen, the sun poked its head out for a while and smiled on me. Sunlight is rare these days. At the edge of town, I saw the welcoming sign with Nirvana lyrics as the town slogan, "Come as you are." I made it to the radio station just in time. He gave me a quick interview then I left. I took in a piece of Rock and Roll history and rode to the place where Cobain bought his first guitar. Actually, I think that has been my first tourist stop on the ride. Well, that and Evil Knievel's jump, but we got paid fifty bucks for that. (Thanks Donna).

The town was certainly depressed as others had warned. There were so many street people in the little town that I felt as though I had rode into the center of a big city in the middle of the night. I struck up a conversation with one man and he told me about the history of the place, how nice it used to be, and the decline related somehow to the protection of the spotted owl. Somehow in protecting the owl they sacrificed the people. This is the paradox of environmentalism that we need to reconcile I think in order to bring everyone into the fold. At one point he told me, "yeah, you can't even survive here selling dope anymore." At first I thought he was being facetious. He wasn't.

There was another story here though that people have been ignoring. One that I find beautiful making the trip well worth my time, even at the expense of getting stranded. I met a small business owner that bought the old theater and revitalized it and opened a coffeehouse on one side and an ice-cream parlor on the other. He was convinced that the town and the people were on the way back and he wanted to do his part to bring it along and bought an entire city block to revitalize at his own expense. I met a city councilman; he is part of the ponytail club, we recognize each other on the streets :). He too was involved in rebuilding and worked his full time job at the bus station, there was an indescribable gleam and optimism in his eye. I met another kid who had been clean from drugs eighty days, full of hope and excitement; he wanted to help us on this ride. I hope he sticks around a while. The other side of Aberdeen that misses the press and the rumors of Seattle, are these hopeful people engaged in the rebirth of their city. Some might call them foolish. I respect them greatly. We are all over the country. There is something on the move.

With a little confusion I ended up in Raymond with a place to stay in Aberdeen at the end of the day. I was thirty miles from my bed. I put in a call to Donna who said "if you ever get into a situation..." I was in a situation. The truth is that the reason I knew I could do this ride was because I knew I wouldn't be doing it alone. And I am not. It was eight o'clock at night and up here everything is closed up early. While I waited outside the last open restaurant for them to arrange a motel room, the clouds parted and revealed the constellation Orion shining above me. Orion. My little boy is moving away from home.

I taste the salt in my breath. I love the sound of a lonely car on a rainy street. "Come as you are?" ... That's a great fucking line.

Thanks Donna for the room last night. Thanks to the folks at Abel house for room and breakfast. Thanks Dan for all your efforts in helping me. Jenny your boy is in my thoughts and I wish you and your family well.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry