Dangerous Compassions


It was good to see my old comrade A Iwasa, in Tucson.  We went to the Hare Krishna temple and had delicious lunch at Govinda’s.  Ming and I were there before, years ago.  But all those Govinda’s-es can blend together in my head, a bit.


Long ago, A Iwasa and Ming and I would go to an ISKCON place in the Bay Area, often on a Sunday evening, and would do the kirtan.  It was comforting.  Those were some good days.

A Iwasa once told me comrades meant more to him than friends, which blew my mind.  I’ve learned a lot over the years, how different people do relationship, what can motivate someone to connect, how people can want totally different things, from relationship.

I show up with curiosity and meet people where they’re at, as I can.  That can get me in trouble sometimes, but it’s all a learning adventure.


I would say A Iwasa puts the rad in comrade.  Here’s a link to his new zine, if you would like to learn about this music.

Clevo Style: How Decades of Cleveland Punk and Hardcore Shaped the World


Ming and I had fun exploring this playground in Tucson.  Seemed more creative than most!


I was excited by the hexagon steps.



Ming was a good sport as always, doing fun stuff and letting me photograph him.


Swing Ming was adorable.  I said I should send this pic to his mom.


I loved this vulva-shaped orange climbing structure!  Yes!  My favorite color and shape.

vulva shaped

This was supposed to be spinny, but it was broken or needed oil realy bad or a new bearing or something.  And Ming was too tall anyway, but I advised him to stick his head in it and pretend he was getting a new hairdo.


I didn’t know why I liked this purple board so much with shapes in it.  Then Ming told me it’s peg board.  Yes, I love peg board.


Ming couldn’t play this instrument so well.  He does so many other things so well, I think I will still like him!


I asked what the orange things were, on the tops of these poles.  Ming said, “If you’re parachuting, and you land on this playground, they’re to protect you!”


I said, “Yeah, you think way too much about parachuting.”

Then we found an abandoned hackysack, and I picked it up from the sand.  We played catch for a while.

“Are you throwing it gently because you’re afraid of hitting me in the breast?” I asked.

“No,” he said.  That’s just how he throws.

I tried it his way.  We discussed handedness, whether this counted as exercise, how a hackysack is easy to catch compared to something more solid.

Conclusion: we are good at having fun.  Ming is a rad comrade also.


By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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