tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21956958074379485272024-03-13T12:06:06.024-07:00Stories of Kaare'sBacklogs and new blogskaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-66182164531077900552011-08-14T10:26:00.000-07:002011-08-14T10:31:18.854-07:00Untitled Renderings of the Sub ContinentI remember a place called Jinu Danda
<br />town like a nipple
<br />on the lesser of two breasts
<br />bumpy mountain retreat
<br />sandwiched between China
<br />and the ballsweat sub-continent of India
<br />it had behind it
<br />trails to 8000 metre peaks
<br />and below it
<br />rivers that ran to towns
<br />cities, factories, and
<br />dams
<br />
<br />I looked up
<br />neck craned at the impossible angle
<br />of futures dreamed
<br />with sweaty palms
<br />and fell
<br />tumbling down
<br />into the river
<br />
<br />the dam was sudden
<br />splattered LooneyToon style
<br />and drowned in reality
<br />I craned
<br />and craned
<br />my neck
<br />back and up
<br />where I had been
<br />what had happened to Jinu Dando?
<br />that impossible point on an impossible bossom
<br />breathing hope
<br />or glory
<br />kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-80164050038864892482011-05-05T07:01:00.000-07:002011-05-14T07:06:29.132-07:00The Captain and IThe right cup of Earl Grey<br />oily with bergamot<br />tannin with Ceylon histories<br />swirls with overcast afternoons<br />in my Grandma's dining room<br />near the kitchen<br />where she dried her herbs<br /><br />Outside: the acorns<br />and little Spruce cones<br />fell among her potato patches<br />waiting to be collected and jarred<br />to be stored in the root cellar<br />pirate treasure<br />building below the black-currant hedges<br /><br />The same cup of Earl Grey<br />pitches and yaws<br />on the ocean<br />sliding like a drunken sailor<br />across the mess table<br />of my father's trawler<br />next to the oil-stove that's always hot<br /><br />Outside: gear is spooling<br />flashers are spinning<br />tunes are whistling<br />but here inside<br />for a moment now<br />my cup of Earl Grey and I<br />stay and steep awhile.kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-59028122975210493782011-03-22T18:26:00.000-07:002011-03-22T18:27:23.130-07:00Wine...and I watched Eat, Pray, Love...Life lost me. Perhaps somewhere in the woods between Langford and Lithuania. Perhaps before, in university course loads and career misdirections. It wasn't the first time, and I'm nearly certain it won't be the last. The quest to find Life is somehow more defining of a characteristic for me than is the life I live itself.<br /><br />Don't think of me as unhealthy.<br /><br />Think instead of a traveler who's quest to free himself from the bonds of self has set him apart and to the shores of Turkey, Iran, India and occasionally the flaccid hanging dong of North America known as "Florida".<br /><br />Once I even lost Life while searching for it abroad. In the overpopulace of mainland China I both discovered and rediscovered the grail of me. But when it slipped from my hands I left again and the jetstream took me further south. I even brought a camera.<br /><br />In South East Asia I drank and wrote myself on riverbanks and road edges. I glimpsed the past and what might be of the future. I felt again, the fibers that made my chest expand and my eyes focus. They were in there, sure. But they were deep somewhere. Layers of city grime and humanitarian guilt clogged them up.<br /><br />So I met a girl.<br /><br />I didn't want to meet a girl because sometimes I feel that it was meeting a girl that left me lost in the first place. But I met one anyway.<br /><br />She was strong.<br /><br />Hell, she was even tough, but I felt in her something muscular and fibrous and undeniable. Hell, her musculoskeletal self pulled me right out of my little quest to find me again in all the wrong places. She pulled me right opposite and like an elastic in a test faucility it snapped right back, bounced, split, reverberated and came to rest right where I was headed away from. And here, here where I was headed away from I sensed a presence that I hadn't in awhile:<br /><br />Me.<br /><br />Me was sitting there, deep inside an unconscious ignorance that I had been ignoring. Here was Me and Me was Here. Here was Me with Her and Her was showing Here how to fucking step aside and let Me be. Nice. I liked that.<br /><br />So I put aside the fight to find what I was looking for and let the world slide by; somehow just like I had done before, just this time without the Syrias, Finlands or dangerous near encounters with Bin Ladens. Here was some kind of love. Love for me and love for her and though I couldn't explain or rationalise it I knew it.<br /><br />Cut.<br /><br />Drift.<br /><br />Be with her because she was the moment. She was the now. And now she is the now and I drift unconscious through the space and time around her; observer of the world at large. The world that drifts through and around me. Life, the essence that the Skeksis tried to distill in the Dark Crystal is the stuff I'm drifting through now, again. No more searching, because in allowing her to be I've found the life around me. She is my current and I am her sailboat. Together, we're reaching land.kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-83570753002903512672011-01-07T18:29:00.000-08:002011-01-09T16:08:04.228-08:00Bitchinest Vegan Enchilada Sauce Recipe<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">What's Inside:<br /><ul><li>3 tbsps vegetable oil</li><li>1 tbsp all-purpose flour</li><li>2 cups vegetable stock</li><li>1 dried Ancho chili</li><li>10 oz tomato paste</li><li>1/2 tbsp ground cumin</li><li>1/2 tbsp dried oregano</li><li>1 tsp ground black pepper</li><li>salt to taste<br /></li></ul>First ya gotta make or buy some vegetable stock (the non-tomato kind). I made mine with a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirepoix_%28cuisine%29">mirepoix</a> (pictured below) plus portabella mushroom stems, garlic, thyme, oregano and bay leaves:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TSfMzXvgcbI/AAAAAAAAATo/0Z_yyM0fhL0/s1600/mirepoix.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559637447930835378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TSfMzXvgcbI/AAAAAAAAATo/0Z_yyM0fhL0/s400/mirepoix.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Mirepoix Ratio - 2:1:1 (Onion: Carrot: Celery)</span></span><br /></div></div><br /></div>Then, in 2 hot cups of said vegetable stock, you gotta soak yourself a big ol' dried Ancho chili (rinse it first, then cut open to remove seeds, veins and stem). Eventually your veg stock will get crazy spicy and full bodied. Don't worry if it's overwhelming at first because once the other ingredients are added it will tame down to a medium-spice. (Hint: this is a variable in your dish and will depend on your taste...you may even want to use more than one of these chilies if you like it hot).<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cookipedia.co.uk/wiki/images/thumb/1/1d/Dried_ancho_chili.jpg/300px-Dried_ancho_chili.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 319px; CURSOR: pointer" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.cookipedia.co.uk/wiki/images/thumb/1/1d/Dried_ancho_chili.jpg/300px-Dried_ancho_chili.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="font-size:78%;">An Ancho Chili - Sweet and robust<br /><br /></span></span></div>In a separate sauce pot on medium heat mix together about 3 tbsps of vegetable oil and 1 tbsp of flour with a wooden spoon and cook for about 3 minutes (but not so much as to start browning the mixture). This is called a <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">roux</span> and will add thickness and body to your sauce.<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gastronomiaycia.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/roux_rubio.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 355px; CURSOR: pointer" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.gastronomiaycia.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/roux_rubio.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Roux Blonde - a lipid and some flour cookin' away (keep stirring to avoid browning or burning locally)</span></span><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Once your roux is cooked up, pour in your stock that has had that chili steeping in it (remove the chili; it's like a teabag to you now...but if you want to add more chili and body to this recipe and happen to have a blender of some kind you can just purée the thing into it all later). Use a whisk to blend together the stock and roux and watch as it magically thickens!<br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Now that you've got a solid flavour and consistency base going on, you're going to want to chuck in about 10 ounces of tomato paste and whisk it all together, at this point you'll see what your end consistency will be. Feel free to thin it out by adding a bit more stock (or water, if you've run out of stock) till you reach the thickness you want. Ideally, an enchilada sauce is thicker than a traditionally described French sauce cos it's meant to really stick to things.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Finally, you're just going to season this thing with the necessary flavours which are traditionally: Oregano, Cumin and Black Pepper. The potency of the spices in your cabinet will vary so feel free to adjust this to taste. Keep in mind that dried spices take a moment to release their flavours into a dish...so let 'em cook for a few minutes before adding any more. Then, of course, you'll have to season this with a bit of salt to bring out all the flavours (this one's up to you).</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />Enjoy!</span><br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://timeinthekitchen.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/red-enchilada-sauce.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 323px; CURSOR: pointer" border="0" alt="" src="http://timeinthekitchen.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/red-enchilada-sauce.jpg" /></a></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Enchilada Sauce - ...this is pretty much what it looks like...</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span></span></div></div>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-53835890051943786902011-01-04T18:22:00.000-08:002011-01-04T18:26:05.658-08:00Podcast - Autumn Ampersand KaareCalifornia, the land that is not Florida but has orange groves, the birthplace of Tom Petty('s music career, but not of Tom Petty), the land that is the theme of our podcast here...kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-26941882523699996182010-12-20T10:35:00.000-08:002010-12-20T11:31:43.212-08:00Shutter SpeedsThe endless clicking of shutters<br />has stuttered the words in my pen<br />where before<br />thought would undress<br />for the chance to find expression<br />in language<br />I am left dumb<br />and empty as the space<br />16 to 200 millimetres<br />between the last focal element<br />and the digital sensor<br /><br />for the image rendered<br />is not imagery<br />it does not<br />as poetry<br />read<br /><br />too two-dimensional to have voice<br />too .raw to express nature<br />too honest to have depthkaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-70594063262621848102010-12-16T22:36:00.001-08:002010-12-16T22:37:37.860-08:00Tonsai, Yangshuo, Chiangmai, Halong Bay, sigh...Dear Asia,<br /><br />I miss you and your people and my people and my people's people who are all up in there.<br /><br />Your rocks are nice, your opportunities are fruitful...if only I could seed my photography career there somehow...kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-47716086935303268932010-10-21T17:23:00.000-07:002010-10-21T17:57:57.021-07:00What America DoesAmerica: a land of plenty; a land of opportunity; a land of stuff.<br /><br />This is what America has that Australia didn't:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa55mclkI/AAAAAAAAATA/VgLuLKgkXos/s1600/KaareIverson-Blogger-7583.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa55mclkI/AAAAAAAAATA/VgLuLKgkXos/s400/KaareIverson-Blogger-7583.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530661030660445762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">$15 Mobile Phones<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Strobist: bare 580exii with 1/2CTO gel from close right of subject<br />and slightly elevated, left fill from white bounce card (aka some<br />cardboard from Cindy's Halloween costume package). bare 430exii<br />with 1/2CTB gel bounced off ceiling. (The vignetting was done in<br />Lightroom though...)</span></span><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6KKEQgI/AAAAAAAAATI/wjRbfcWSq7Q/s1600/KaareIverson-Blogger-7617.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6KKEQgI/AAAAAAAAATI/wjRbfcWSq7Q/s400/KaareIverson-Blogger-7617.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530661035104813570" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Drip Coffee</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Strobist: foolishly bare 580exii from 45 deg<br />right of camera and close to subject with<br />left fill coming from afore mentioned<br />bounce card. bare 430exii from directly<br />behind subject with wide beam (a few<br />metres back)<br /></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6U1MtKI/AAAAAAAAATQ/it-IDrH1TPE/s1600/KaareIverson-Blogger-7611.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6U1MtKI/AAAAAAAAATQ/it-IDrH1TPE/s400/KaareIverson-Blogger-7611.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530661037970076834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Pancakes (not crepes)<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Strobist: Same as above, but back light is<br />set at 45 deg back left of subject.<br /></span></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6olGtfI/AAAAAAAAATY/W6sxQSQDMO8/s1600/KaareIverson-Blogger-7542.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TMDa6olGtfI/AAAAAAAAATY/W6sxQSQDMO8/s400/KaareIverson-Blogger-7542.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530661043271284210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hybrid Revolution<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Strobist: 580exii through 8" softbox 45deg<br />right of subject, 430exii with full CTO gel<br />bounced off back wall<br /></span></span></span></div>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-43396999355352212972010-09-13T01:38:00.000-07:002010-09-13T02:27:57.346-07:00Carnivore Adventure!Autumn and I are, right now, riding out the last few stressful packing days of our Tasmanian chapter. Before we bid this little island farewell though, we wanted to tick a couple of little achievements. One of these was to see a Tasmanian Devil and a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_Quoll">Spotted Quol</a> in the wild. Muthauckahs is cute afterall!<br /><br />So, with an inquiry to the local carnivore expert, we determined a location in the south of Tasmania called Cockle Creek which promised to be rich in meat eaters.<br /><br /><iframe marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Hobart+TAS,+Australia&daddr=Catamaran,+Tasmania,+Australia&hl=en&geocode=FUmpcf0duhTICCmLaT7lhHVuqjHDZz8OnZ04og%3BFS9NZ_0dVmPBCCkf3YFVGgxsqjG4xjUihT_zXQ&mra=ls&sll=-43.534114,146.955185&sspn=0.109017,0.291824&ie=UTF8&ll=-43.22221,147.103095&spn=0.67894,0.45441&output=embed" frameborder="0" height="350" scrolling="no" width="425"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Hobart+TAS,+Australia&daddr=Catamaran,+Tasmania,+Australia&hl=en&geocode=FUmpcf0duhTICCmLaT7lhHVuqjHDZz8OnZ04og%3BFS9NZ_0dVmPBCCkf3YFVGgxsqjG4xjUihT_zXQ&mra=ls&sll=-43.534114,146.955185&sspn=0.109017,0.291824&ie=UTF8&ll=-43.22221,147.103095&spn=0.67894,0.45441" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br /><br />Here is the unfolding of our little adventure:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lAc1GoHI/AAAAAAAAARw/k3aWmyY8YrY/s1600/erin+crush-6383.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lAc1GoHI/AAAAAAAAARw/k3aWmyY8YrY/s400/erin+crush-6383.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516316914500411506" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">As with any good adventure, wine on the beach</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">was how it all started.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lArpaNSI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Ewwg18qbo_E/s1600/erin+crush-6396.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lArpaNSI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Ewwg18qbo_E/s400/erin+crush-6396.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516316918477894946" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Then with a good head of lower-economic-</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">bracket house red, we pitched our tent...</span><br /><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBFCB7tI/AAAAAAAAASA/PgRbH9Jn-Iw/s1600/erin+crush-6404.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBFCB7tI/AAAAAAAAASA/PgRbH9Jn-Iw/s400/erin+crush-6404.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516316925292048082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">...cooked up a feast of leftover soup...</span><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3mhhl28DI/AAAAAAAAAS4/uv-RaQPt96Q/s1600/lights-6441.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3mhhl28DI/AAAAAAAAAS4/uv-RaQPt96Q/s400/lights-6441.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516318582225956914" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">...and set up a camera trap!<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*Strobist: 580exII into softbox infront of and 45 deg to right of subject<br />430exII bare behind at 45 degrees to left of subject and elevated<br />~all triggered with Cactus V4<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lVgL4E0I/AAAAAAAAASo/eL_6EmB6uA8/s1600/erin+crush-6456.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lVgL4E0I/AAAAAAAAASo/eL_6EmB6uA8/s400/erin+crush-6456.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516317276178486082" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">We used some ground up Kangaroo bits (read: "Roo Mince")</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">as bait for any carnivores brave enough to walk around the</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">tripods and ominous lighting equipment.</span><br /></span></span></span></div><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBgXN1iI/AAAAAAAAASI/nzochUTxTAQ/s1600/erin+crush-6452.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBgXN1iI/AAAAAAAAASI/nzochUTxTAQ/s400/erin+crush-6452.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516316932628665890" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Some critters (read: the army of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pademelon">Pademelons</a></span> </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">endlessly</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">patrolling </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">our</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> campsite) were curious enough about the</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">lights at least...</span></span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBw1hALI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-y-tdJaOD9A/s1600/erin+crush-6455.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lBw1hALI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-y-tdJaOD9A/s400/erin+crush-6455.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516316937050718386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">One of the Paddies was even a little bit curious about the</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">ground up blob of her (you can tell she's female by the</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">bulge in her pouch) larger cousin, making us a little</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">curious about the eating habits of these "so-called</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">herbivores" ...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">The pademelons eventually gave up on the meat though,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">generally freaking out a little when they got close enough</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">to smell it. And so we waited into the night...until it</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">started to rain and we had to pull down all the lights and</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">retreat into our tent (which survived the near-Antarctic like</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">conditions quite admirably). Without the lights, we didn't</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">stand a chance of getting a picture in the dark, so we gave</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">up and bunkered down for a cold night (well, I didn't</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">think it was that cold, but Autumn has Californian</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">blood and she found it pretty chilly...granted, as soon</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">as it got dark, the ground froze solid and winds started</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">harassing the tent).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Of course, </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">in the morning the meat blob cum bait ball</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">was gone without a trace, save for some trampled bush.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">We didn't find any tracks though, but the fellow pictured</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">below was flying awfully low to the ground, as though</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">his belly was laden with a lead weight, or, perhaps,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">fist-sized ball of raw kangaroo flesh.</span><br /><br /></span></span></span></div><a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lV3mB_hI/AAAAAAAAASw/0-S7UdDjxg8/s1600/erin+crush-6458.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_k27g2wCUxJE/TI3lV3mB_hI/AAAAAAAAASw/0-S7UdDjxg8/s400/erin+crush-6458.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516317282462203410" border="0" /></a>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-2414710927005972192010-08-08T19:35:00.000-07:002010-08-09T14:20:28.277-07:00Stories in the FogToday, after years of driving past <a href="http://www.mountainproject.com/v/international/north_america/canada/106516402">Yak Peak</a> on the Coquihalla, I finally managed to get a crew together to go out there, park on the side of the highway, hike into bear territory and climb the bastard.<br /><br />So, up at 4:30 after a night of heavy electro dancing and King's Cup competitionery. Up to cat allergies. Up to a two hour drive up the hill and into the sunrise. Up and up and up right into the fog. Fog that would surely lift off; surely burn off as that great big ball of fire lit up the Alpine. Up and up through bear shit and soggy duff. Up to the anchors we couldn't see through the fog. Oh commitment, how you drive a beaten Cadillac of misdirection. To the top of the first pitch and into the rain. Drizzle. Windy slapping downpour...waterfall over 100% of the exposed face.<br /><br />Turned tail.<br /><br />And went home to dry out our gear and eat tempura donburi.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4874521019/" title="Mixdown @ The Neils by kaare.iverson, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4137/4874521019_af45edb67e.jpg" alt="Mixdown @ The Neils" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">The evening starts with some harmless turntable music in the living room.</span></span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4875123208/" title="Bear Country by kaare.iverson, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4875123208_64c80550e9.jpg" alt="Bear Country" height="500" width="333" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Less than 8 hours later, I am here...in a cloud.</span></span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4874069881/" title="Limited Visibility by kaare.iverson, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4116/4874069881_660dea9822_m.jpg" alt="Limited Visibility" height="160" width="240" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Jake looks ahead to approaching storm fronts moving down the mountain face while belaying Christina to the top of pitch 1, where we'll later discover a waterfall and learn about the advantages of weather-sealed camera housing.</span></span>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-5054566481815198782010-08-07T11:18:00.001-07:002010-08-07T11:18:06.185-07:00In The Muir<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4869537462/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4079/4869537462_99b5b273f1_m.jpg" alt="In The Muir" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4869537462/">In The Muir</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 8th August, 2010</span><br clear="all" /> <p>I visited a grove of giant redwood trees in Frisco. This is what I saw. Monolythes from another time, standing great and tall. (I think that's in nearly Iambic Pentametre, btw)</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-60270689446992015132010-07-01T05:40:00.000-07:002010-07-01T05:55:04.392-07:00Latency Adds Potency?If I lactate latency does it add potency<br />to the filigree melody of this post's symmetry?<br />Electrically?<br /><br />I haven't written to myself on here in awhile, true. Here's the go down though, I did a self-portrait shoot to get my photo mojo going again and here's what happened, something not utterly crap!:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4750418529/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4119/4750418529_299e276c1d_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Canon 5D Mark II<br />remotely triggered, manually set master Speedlight 580 EX II (through a diffusing white umbrella) that then triggered a rim flash from a slave manual set Speedlight 430 EX II! And all of this was captured through my new 50mm f/1.4. Hot!kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-44165585230517348152010-02-17T04:49:00.000-08:002010-02-20T01:16:26.414-08:00India (And How She Helped me To See Myself)The Dalai Lama distributed<br />his cup full of grace<br />and I<br />ceremoniously<br />accepted with palms up<br />body rigid, pushed through assembled masses<br />of exiled Tibetan New Years<br />to a waiting coach<br />with no suspension<br />seen off by a beautiful new friend<br />to rock nausea through my guts<br />but still I did not spill<br /><br />Delhi in her finest bedclothes<br />stained in spots with pre-dawn<br />rickshaw drivers<br />and our coach stopped to kneel<br />at the feet of them<br />250Rs. (250% the going rate)<br />my fingers grate the sleep from my eyes<br />bargain for my right to 110%<br />tax for white skin<br />our second sleepless day begins<br />the cup full of grace<br />holding every silver drop<br />in a rickshaw hopping red-light "suggestions"<br /><br />We stop<br />We are 5:30am (5 hours early)<br />to appointments<br />at Max Super Specialty Hospital<br />medical tourism headquarters<br />our driver moans for 50 more<br />me, two bags, a tired girlfriend<br />and a frothy cup of grace<br />ignore the pleas<br />50Rs. more<br />broken English that misses<br />the "magic" word<br />for undeserved surplus<br /><br />Inside we fight our heavy eyes<br />order chai<br />receive "VAT"<br />pull the stopper<br />and slip a cheeky drop of grace<br />into soggy paper cups<br />we slowly sip<br />my belly rumbles<br />hunger?<br />bus-ride-busted bowels respond<br />and I shit my favourite underwear<br />while in an uncleaned hospital latrine<br />I struggle off the many too-warm layers<br />a mostly full cup of grace<br />waits on a cafeteria<br />table top<br /><br />My a1/a2 vertebrae pop<br />so I XRAY a 3-day headache<br />nothing<br />1100Rs.<br />and a patronising patriarchal physician<br />the girlfriend pays 3000Rs. more<br />for hers<br />and nearly cries<br />there was a cup here somewhere<br /><br />We hit the Hard Rock New Delhi<br />Mexican import bottle beers<br />and Nachos<br />FULL ORDER<br />my one-day late<br />Valentine's reprise<br />in an A/C shopping mall<br />away from the grey skies of smog<br />horns<br />madness<br />my tab on an empty pocket<br />I.O.Her 2235Rs.<br />but 2 beers is like grace<br />the kind that makes this 3.5-day headache<br />static-rumble loud<br /><br />We catch a movie to avoid the crowd<br />I buy new headphones to drown them out<br />Sherlock Holmes plays too loud<br />we dip tissues in the silver stuff<br />and pack our ear holes<br />for tympanic protection<br />finish up<br />and arrange a battered auto-rickshaw<br />to the wrong railway station<br />which I discover after endless queries<br />(A working miracle in themselves)<br />muted by new headphones<br />filling the cognitive areas<br />left between<br />the scattered 3.7 day headache<br />...<br />ipod off and hidden<br />we ride the metro<br />on 500 grams of paracetemol<br />and 8Rs.<br />to Old (not "New") Delhi station<br /><br />Engines and cars<br />and cabooses and cars<br />and engines<br />splash through shit-covered tracks<br />and on the edge of collapse<br />near falling in<br />the crowd and luggage<br />surge and scream<br />a man collapses under the press<br />I help him up<br />save his life<br />and remember the cup I'm holding<br />somewhat chipped<br />by the press of countless writing<br />people<br /><br />Jump aboard 3 cars off<br />fight my 30Kg load<br />through upper-class passengers<br />to A1-12 and 44<br />opposite ends<br />penalised arrangements<br />for moments late booking<br />no matter<br />my sleepless battered brain<br />is 4 days deep<br />and I'm at my "seat/sleep"<br />jacket off<br />and pillow of dirty clothes<br />rolled<br />(for safety) pack away<br />passport, portable hard-drive<br />(with lifetime of pictures)<br />ipod<br />ipod?<br />card wallet?<br />FUCKING POCKET SLASHED (new jacket)<br />FUCKING BANKCARD<br />FUCKING MONEY<br />IPOD<br />gone<br />CUP OF FUCKING GRACE<br />cracked<br />just a few drops left<br />cut my lips<br />on the rim<br />knock back the contents<br />graceful nightcap<br />dream of nothing<br />nothingness<br />emptiness<br />...<br />8.6 hours of gracefulness<br />to grey morning skies<br />slipping by this tinted window<br />grace used up<br />so the Wala sells us cups of chai<br />and my addled mind<br />fits and seizes<br />my epilepsy tablets still packed deeply in<br />this dusty rucksack<br />I dump hot magma chai<br />all over my crotch<br />too dehydrated to construct even a tear<br />I lay back<br />close the curtain and fall<br />forward into the next destination<br />Darjeeling<br />where I'm dreaming visions of Himalayas<br />unpeopled<br />unsupporting<br />snow covered<br />and cold like home<br />2.1 weeks of beard growth<br />are itching<br />anxious<br />naturally gracing my face with warmth<br />existing untrimmed as is<br />simply 'is'<br />I 'am'<br />this and that 'are'<br /><br />i order another chai<br />no spill<br />no fit this time<br />and the silver stuff inside<br />slides down easy<br />the ground is creaking<br />or clacking<br />below<br />there are<br />2156 Kilometres<br />and a lifetime to gokaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-91310282310594272582010-02-17T04:30:00.000-08:002010-02-17T04:43:29.177-08:00Canadian ManMet an man<br />of Canadian nature<br />bent knees<br />bent back<br />the split palms of labour<br />he called himself Chris<br />the machinist<br />he held up those hands<br />singing psalms of praise<br />to a Northern life<br />lines like river valleys<br />dissecting mountains<br />pouring down<br />converging at the wrist<br />and rooted there<br /><br />"here, you see"<br />and he pointed<br />finger to flesh<br />"ignoring the rest<br />the widest crease is here"<br />beneath<br />the tendons worked their way<br />and the digits swayed<br />branches<br />counting<br />falling and rising<br />"Belgium, Hungary, Iran, Syria, Lebanon, India, Latvia, China, Estonia, Finland..."<br />and on and on he went<br />fingers bent or straight<br />and still the tendons slid<br />and bulged<br />and dipped below the thickness<br />of the wrist<br />strings bouncing<br />humming:<br />East coast Gaelic shanties<br />West coast hard-core ballads<br />Yukon caribou wails<br />and all<br />under winters' white wash<br />muffled static<br />always there to hum<br />in a moment of silence<br />always therekaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-85899054306893432242009-12-19T22:59:00.001-08:002009-12-19T22:59:31.262-08:00Sky Over Landspace<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4198760787/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4005/4198760787_7c8a746603_m.jpg" alt="Sky Over Landspace" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/4198760787/">Sky Over Landspace</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 20th December, 2009</span><br clear="all" /> <p>Time's are a changing as things fall into place.<br /><br />An obsession with climbing internationally that started nearly two years ago in this same place (Hampi, India) has come full circle to fruition. I'm trading in my plans of going to the Mid East, Europe and Africa for a full two year committed climbing tour, driving through the Americas with three lovely people and potentially a load of sponsorship. I've been reminded to be more creative so let me just delve into the touchy-feely:<br /><br />The water has taken it's time to wear away the burs and borough through. Two years plus and pushing five more. This life of travels wears one smooth, leaves the hardened core of genuine ambition clear. I am ambitious in this only. My life falls together; photography, climbing, friendship and love. The measure of success is only in your ability to spot a line, to harness coincidence as omen and pursue happiness.<br /><br />To test and test and test myself against the campus of every opportunity. And so I return to the Americas.</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-28679020992681905222009-10-26T04:31:00.000-07:002009-10-26T04:44:41.624-07:00The Edge Of Reality Is A Frayed NerveThe day before my 2 year anniversary of leaving Canada I'm waiting for visiting hours at a Northern Thai prison. I sit in the grass discussing manifest psychology and drinking iced coffee. A woman stalks the crowd outside, hawking colourful balaclavas. The sun moves a little and steals the shade I was using. Jesse and I compensate.<br /><br />The black vinyl seat of our rented scooter is getting too hot in the afternoon sun. I feel dehydrated and my right hand has an unidentifiable stench about it. Hand sanitiser is too pussy for a seasoned traveler, so I rub it into my hands when the crowds attention is called away for an announcement of the prisoners who have lined up behind the bulletproof glass. Our friend's name is called out in Thai. We hesitate. It's called again, this time with the prison guard flagging our attention.<br /><br />Inside, Ikiu is remarkably happy, but the cigarettes we bought him cannot be passed through the speakerbox. He asks for 200 Baht as the timer goes off and he's drawn away from us. We oblige and he smiles. The two actions have no correlation.<br /><br />Outside we transfer our money in. I recognise an old face from a distant time when I traveled here before. Peter is white, old, morally bankrupt and someone I could never trust. I like his stories. He tells us that Ikiu is in the can with his good mate, that his uncle is connected to the local mafia and that the motive of his crime was vague. The police exaggerated, but he did chase someone down with a Samurai sword on his scooter. I think of Kill Bill immediately. A new fondness for Ikiu sweeps over us.<br /><br />Later we will join Peter for whiskey.kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-78862655854136430642009-10-07T01:52:00.000-07:002009-10-07T01:57:12.601-07:00HookervilleHookerville, aka Datang, is the border town/slum/sprawling bordello of sin and kareoke between Thailand and Malaysia but mostly in Thailand. It's also the town where we spent our last evening on this, our epic journey to extend our Thai visas.<br /><br />Hollywood Club<br /><br />Oscar's Entertainment Palace Complex<br /><br />Helo Bangkok<br /><br />Erotic Kareoke<br /><br />A Line Of Ketamine Off A Hooker's Ass<br /><br />I also bought black market Gudang Garam Indonesian Kreteks for a buck and a quarter.kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-82122387886605707842009-09-24T04:17:00.000-07:002009-09-24T04:22:57.034-07:00LonelilyIt's raining on Tonsai<br />I'm flashing 7a<br />Rolled cigarettes burn away the afternoon<br />I think about the phone numbers I don't know anymore<br />and wonder where to find them<br />Humidity halts tattoo healage<br />I contemplate a year on the road<br />Things cycle back to tendon strength<br />I drink a Sangsom Soda to burn off the cold<br />Emotions roll around and sour in the cheap whisky<br />I blogkaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-48456539241413104702009-09-10T21:42:00.000-07:002009-10-05T04:33:05.797-07:00Me, I'm A Ramblin' ManRamblin' Man by Lemon Jelly...loving that tune all up and down the world these days. Here's a poem I wrote on a bus while smoking hand rolled cigarettes and trying to decipher Kerouac:<br /><br />We're going, we're going<br />where?<br />hold on<br />stick head out window<br />of moving<br />bus<br />catch <br />breath<br />velocity forced<br />wind down throat<br />gasp<br />fight word out<br />Suph...an...buri?<br />How do you spell that?<br />"Chao Rai?"<br />"Lok Sip Baht!"<br />"120 togedder"kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-59962629054551744622009-09-04T00:04:00.001-07:002009-09-04T00:04:51.098-07:00SEAHORSES!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3886625512/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2515/3886625512_b04d60ab9a_m.jpg" alt="SEAHORSES!!!!" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3886625512/">SEAHORSES!!!!</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 4th September, 2009</span><br clear="all" /> <p>He Xin and I have finally finished our mad UNICEF assignment...I'm just posting off the photos now...it seems that these photos view a bit desaturated in web browsers, but the originals are all a lot more sun pumped. Anyway, look at how mad cute this kid is. Chinese children could be the new source of renewable energy if we can only figure out how to distill "cute"</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-20249424787490708642009-08-20T22:57:00.001-07:002009-08-20T22:57:38.419-07:00Break Wrist<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/1430650619/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1262/1430650619_b9b6133f6b_m.jpg" alt="Break Wrist" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/1430650619/">Break Wrist</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 24th September, 2007</span><br clear="all" /> <p>I came across a brilliant web comic that's basically changed my life...or at least my afternoons at work.<br /><br /><a href="http://harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=17">This</a> is basically why I will always hate point and shoot cameras.</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-45953638856235553362009-08-20T01:14:00.000-07:002009-08-20T01:20:33.031-07:00BattleStarMy friend has hidden all of the season 4 Battlestar Galactica disks again. My private revolt has been to wikisearch Grace Park and try to imagine how awesome it would be if I moved to Vancouver and she left her husband and did chinups for me. Sigh.<br /><br />In other news I'm WORKING for UNICEF and I feel a little dirty about being paid by them. Not, like, Ron Jeremy dirty, but certainly a little tainted.<br /><br />Oh yeah, and my website needs your critique.<br />do that<br /><br />www.kaareiverson.com<br /><br />Lovekaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-74123310686862175662009-08-02T23:01:00.001-07:002009-08-02T23:01:28.596-07:00Ascent Into Globalism<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3783317565/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3783317565_bc1659815d_m.jpg" alt="Ascent Into Globalism" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3783317565/">Ascent Into Globalism</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 3rd August, 2009</span><br clear="all" /> <p>China is moving forward and I'm moving out...back to simpler things where there's only electricity at night...and then only sometimes. In the near future my sunny skies will not be obstructed by buildings and I will not climb out of caves using these confounded electronic stairs!</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-84786686092228676122009-07-22T21:57:00.001-07:002009-07-22T22:04:18.972-07:00Tinkerbell<a {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3748552922/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2589/3748552922_18d367386d_m.jpg" alt="Tinkerbell" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kiverson/3748552922/">Tinkerbell</a> <br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kiverson/">kaare.iverson</a><br />on the 23rd July, 2009</span><br clear="all" /> <p>We took a bus<br />any bus<br />and got lost in the Chinese stops<br />got off<br />got more lost<br />found a market<br />took some pictures<br />bought some 回力s<br />now my kicks are slick<br />and so is this pic<br /><br />*rhyming structure not intentional*<br /><br />*Also, I've been watching a lot of Beyonce concert footage lately. You should to if you're feeling randy or like...whatever.*</p>kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2195695807437948527.post-55965681569960273032009-07-18T23:11:00.000-07:002009-07-18T23:15:46.009-07:00The Depths Of IgnoranceThe boss is out of town. Earlier today the receptionist put an Ibiza trance rave on the communal television set. It was loud and obnoxious and full of extasy fueled boobs. I liked The Beyonce Experience more. I wish they would put that back on.<br /><br />Apparently my concern with what's W.A. is waning. Today I caught MYSELF looking at tits in a glass walled office. I think I'm going to try to intern for <a title="Not Work Appropriate" href="http://www.viceland.com/int/v16n7/htdocs/fashion-boatwright-nudes-sans-tattoos-932.php">Vice</a>.kaare.iversonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16299846129614651799noreply@blogger.com8