10.15.15 notes from reading / research, and …

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Date: 10.15.15
I’m still here, at the house …
so not exactly home
again …
a relief?
with so much work going on,
and living the struggle
between exhaustion and tired-ness,
I just want to organize:
a few of the things that have come up
with relation to this project,
that uh ..
(1) Ni’s feedback on arts and crafts activities:  plant material + house unused items: $1.00  ($ 0.50 is not something people
usually have on them.)
(2) Essay : The Nobility of A Career In Begging
(3) K’s feedback on thanatology / the death project: eulogy poetry  for funerals / death services
(4) A few notes that have come up , and need to be included here:

A Twisting
A Twisting

10.15.15 notes from reading / research, and …
— “verities” from “Jewish Theology”
— weight-related music words in the back-drop,
music : radio
— thoughts possibly fiction-category: it literally is medicine
— now, nomadic-themed music in the background
— ” (Note 1:)  … Theology is understood to be the presentation of one specific system of faith …”
— you have a special-case/needs/creating sister (fiction-category-notes) it makes her more empathetic toward others, because ingrained in her already is the experience of being different,
now hold equanimity, found a green rubber band, in need of, badly I was
—notes to self: reminded: organize the brainstorming notes
–now, news in the background: combat-related, and also local camaraderie; it seems to be instead about the opposite gender:
–cameras congress numbers fear harm (poetry starting)
ballet? police , identities of logic, not in: sanes
not the child (italics) X 1,000,000 but I attended that type school two banished there! weather withered
tensions nation-ality  –  barfing – age-ism lectures
trans-port-ate-a land scaped Rural-full
murderers of fame you know what kaali is doing she’s watering the plants during the night is alcohol bad for the teeth health insurance and she has no soul! hypotenuse like a noose around the neck echo, esp ; it’s just me blinking gross! gross sex jokes cross through the equal sign (d.n. equal) humor I wear
sun – glasses to self-simulate not stimulate: NO, DROUGHT!
— “themes” from page 7 “Jewish Theology”
— “cosmos” from page 8 “Jewish Theology”
–background music, my comments: I wish this were a joke;
with a twisting

Reference  Materials:
— NPR on 10.15.15 early morning (western US time)
— college radio stations local (San Jose, CA area), and general local radio stations,
— and text as available through Amazon Kindle:
Jewish Theology by Kaufmann Kohler, Publication Date: 2011


Thanatology Work: For Water Connected to Death

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For the FVP
Thanatology Work:
For Water
Connected to

by Goura Fotadar

Date: 10.02.15 –10.13.15

From Reference “DRINKING WATER” by James Salzman

(P. 31 , Chapter 1: “The Fountain of Youth”)
under an image:

”     Special waters can do more than restore health or reverse aging. In Norse and Irish mythology, drinking water provides wisdom. The Norse god Odin, for example, sought to drink from the sacred spring that flowed beneath the roots of the world tree, Yggdrasil. So eager was he for just one sip, he offered to sacrifice an eye to the giant guard Mimir. The exchange made good, with gulp Odin gained eternal wisdom. Finn, the hero of Irish legend, gained his wisdom from water, as well. Rather than drink the water, though, he ate the Salmon of Knowledge, which had gained its wisdom from swimming in the waters of a magic well.
There is a Chinese variant of this tale involving the noted philosopher Huai-Zan Tzu. It is said that in 122 BC he discovered how to distill the elixir of life. Upon drinking it, he was carried up to heaven. While ascending, he dropped his flask and spilled the waters. When his curious dogs and chickens drank from the magical puddle, they ascended to heaven as well.”

P. 94
“Improved  sanitation and the provision of readily available safe drinking water both gradually became explicit government priorities, and the results proved impressive. In 1852, the average age of death in the English town of Dudley had been a shocking seventeen years old. Twenty years after sewers were constructed there, life expectancy had almost doubled. Similarly, from 1850 to 1900, life expectancy in French cities from thirty-two to forty-five years old. Medical advances clearly contribute to this increased longevity, but the Great Sanitation Awakening seems an apt title for such stinking results.”

It’s interesting to hear about how water
was viewed, in the conditions, and living among them, in this drought. In terms of Death, especially; and in relation to it; how water used to be viewed as having abilities special-enough (water as holy) to grant, thing, such as:
(1) “Wisdom”
(2) health restoration
(3) and youth.

Perhaps even more interesting , in the same book, but at /in a different location (p. 94 as quoted) is the fact that water connected with “sanitation” of poor quality is/are the very cause of short life.
These quoted passages with the study of thanatology, make think as if
it weren’t already obvious that water were connected to life/death.
With the horrid drought that’s been happening in California, and with what seem to me like a few acts of domestic & supernatural terrorism; I can’t help but become more aware of water as connected to or more like an element of Death/Life. In other words, I’m thinking that water the element, which about to look up in terms of Death (terms); is a quintessential Death, and thus,
Life being.
Not to get too supernatural conspiracy-related, but this issues we’re having with water uh is bringing to uh the front of my mind, like that I obviously do, need to point out that perhaps the drought (esp. if you’re connected to connected to Cali), is requiring (with the combinations of terror) me and I hope all of us to ponder our own mortality.

Also, I wonder if enough of us have thought more about not only our owned deaths; right, my fascination with death, leads me to think of it as an event for each of us that we should look forward to, and not just earn. Anyway, I wonder if enough of us have thought about how to become one that works toward being able to overcome death.

Having looked up water in “Encyclopedia of The End” by Deborah Noyes:
(p. 134)

Water is often associated with death, purity, and cleansing.

The soul, itself a reflection (of the body, which is why ghosts often appear as the physical body did in life), is ‘captured’ by being reflected
in water.”

My suspicions of water being  an element connected to death are confirmed from finding the above quote.

This has inspired me to (right) a spell, having long been fed – up with the soul, and representing this experience spell in my fiction.

Soul of Bondage, Enslavement, and All Horribles in General and Specific. De-Construct Yourself & Create A Replacement of Above Superiors!

Fiction Quote(s) Coming On Up While-St. Working On this Essay:  (Yeah but you’re more alive dead, than
you were before dead.)

When you leave:
awake – moving
after you died.
What you saw
What you found out
What you became
how you became
better than,
instead of
dying … like being

Grieving as a regular process.  
While working on this portion of the project, The Death Project, and being a grief oriented person, anyway: Just in plain ol’ nature or something, I’ve realized in case it weren’t already obvious or something that grieving like daily hopefully you know for what, but even if you don’t, is a like good thing. Perhaps it’s my obsession with death, or just some ol’ other reason. Still, I find it to be a highly effective and transcendent experience; the grieving I mean, as a regular process.

Grieving as a regular process
Grieving as a regular process

p. 97 from “DRINKING WATER”

“This is not to say, however, that drinking water diseases were a thing of the past. Far from it. Typhoid fever still claimed thousands every year, including the famed aviation brother Wilbur Wright, who died in 1912. Indeed, it was just such concerns over drinking water that spurred the trips of wealthy Europeans to spas and the first boom in bottled water sales. Ensuring source protection was a limited solution. To take the next big step in ensuring the safety of drinking water, municipalities turned to an approach that had always been part of the drinking water story: treatment.”

Now there’s an example of water’s ability to cause not only death, but a death-like state of sicknesses; and perhaps it’s only because the quoted material is from a reference text that focuses on water-related connected to … health concern; even still, the power that water has to influence life states / death
are near terrifying. In addition,  based on this above quote, income seems to influence your ability to live; which of course is obvious, (through water on another method); as in of course better services; but because, in my opinion and/or what might otherwise be obvious Death is enormously spiritual; and it seems or is possibly highly ironic that money, in this World, alone (?) might stave off or better put: control the spiritual.

10.12.15 – 10.13.15


P. 72
” … and dogs brought the dead across the ‘Ninefold River’ to the underworld; …”

Random other thoughts/fiction :
I’m not mortal.
What does that
It means
I can save
your life.
it’s because
You’re too

I reached
my agenda
for today:
It’s still
the 24-hour
period, it’s
not a loss,
it’s a

Referenced Texts / Reference Material:
a history
Copyright 2012

by Deborah Noyes

A Field Guide to Cemetery
Symbolism and Iconography
Written and photographed by

Updates Related to The Fictional VolunTier Project

Posted on Updated on


Updates Related to The Fictional VolunTier Project
By Goura Fotadar
Date: 10.7.15

I’ve been working on a write-up on the Death Project for The FVP;
however, the situation at home has peaked again. With threats of safety, and other un-pleasant issues; such as my mother’s loud cult worship with fellow cult worshippers, while I am of course trying to do work. Because I work as a volunteer for free and independently, and of course also I write fiction under the same limitations; I am finding myself homeless again. Unfortunately, I have to leave this area, to find shelter that doesn’t cost money and is available. I have a very few dollars saved up; and it’s not even enough to cover fare to the place where I am going to find shelter. I’m also without a suitcase, when I arrived here last year almost exactly, I had a suitcase from a homeless clothing provider (I had been homeless for a year at that point). Now I will have to carry out my things, and of course, I am only talking about writing and volunteer-related materials, (mostly, notes and notebooks, that are still being typed up); because I can travel with one outfit. However, I am concerned that I should get shelter and both be safe. Being homeless on foot, is somewhat dangerous, especially I believe, as a woman. On the positive, at least I don’t have to deal with these people anymore, and I continue my work. My apologies for post-poning an almost completed write up on The Death Project, as I am working on it for The Fictional VolunTier Project both of ’em designed by me of course. Hopefully, I will have it up, once my shelter and safety, are more settled. Part of the situation is that I am working on a new fiction book, and so have also fallen behind on completing this portion of The Death Project, because of the time that has taken / is taking.

Gold to Homeless, Again
Gold to Homeless, Again?

The Hair on Ripping: Empowering The Man.

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Empowering The Man
Empowering The Man

The Hair on Ripping: Empowering The Man.
by goura fotadar

Date, started (this portion) 09.28.15-10.01.15


The New Woman was also sometimes old. Throughout the nineteenth century, girls had been taught that their moment in the sun was going to be a brief one that began with courtship and ended with marriage.

But by the turn of the century, when Americans were marching into what historians now call the Progressive Era, stage stars

‘I fear you think the New Woman is going to wipe you off the planet, but be not afraid. All who have mothers, sisters, wives or sweethearts will be very looked after.’ ”

How odd. How often do we expect publicized (head) leaders to be men, and how often do we stop women from reaching these posts. Still; and if even when we have some type of close association, with leader-heading-that-method-to women; how much do we limit their destination to the Ultimate Head; What that is for such, a woman; and/or women.
Further, along in the quote;
“mothers , sisters, wives,
or sweethearts
will be looked

I have been told, that women and men can never bee friends;
and I’ve been very serious about this;
because all along
I’ve been friends
with men,
and mentored
by them. So wonder; with regard to
the ‘look after’
perhaps when a woman
rises to this extent,

only her
relatives and/or
romantic interests, “look after” -ed;
do not; since the referenced
text seems to Me to be referring to the
security of her male associations, only;
from her Power; then do not her friends
and/or acquaintances (male) might
earn in her approval an interest of
providing for in security (theirs) from / by her Power.

for example
be the/
the head, while,
mrs. claus,
the supporter,
in terms of present grantor.


”     Her only wish, she said, was to go back
to Italy and show everyone that a poor peasant girl could learn to hold her head high and stand up for her rights. ‘They wouldn’t dare hurt me now I come from America,’ she said.
‘Me, that’s why I love America. That’s what I learned in America : not to be afraid.’ ”

Preceding this quotation in the referenced text, is the subject of the story, and when we talk about any being’s Power; I always think that even a few knowing (some) of their story, or the person’s story;
creates Power for beings. And also, we often or at least I often hear about the injustice new immigrants experience, experienced ; but and much less frequently do I hear their story of overcoming anything from the new immigrant situation; and though this quote is specifically about a woman’s perspective, perspectiv-ed on the American / her American Immigrant experience; surely any part of any being’s experience, i.e., and/or some of their story, in the ears of only and/or just a few; can add to their Power of not just security, but else; it can. (gender)

I exist!

“Some places seemed to produce bumper crops of spinsters. An estimated 40 percent of the … never married, and one western New York city in 1855 had a 17 percent rate of spinsterhood …” ”
In this day/age, the inclusion of the portions of the selected text above, I wonder or inquire what it means to be a “spinster” in the (modern day) time of present; and not in the method of dictionary definitions; more-so in the inquiry of does the term translate to modern lifestyle and/or present time living; and is it now as little as it once was said (at least), and perhaps described to be. That is, has “spinsterhood” become empowered by the/with forwarding of Time.

” P. 279
” If there’s any symbol for the transportation that had occurred in the lives of American women as they approached the twentieth century, it ought to be the bicycle.” ”

I’m not so sure if this is anti-feminist of me or something, but I have some type of childhood trauma connected to riding bikes. I learned very late, and my first and only bike was a hot pink color with training wheels; I hated the color and by the time it was purchased for me I was eight. I had a bizarre early childhood, so I guess learning to ride a bike wasn’t high on the priority for them. For years it sat on the condominium’s patio I mean balcony being rained on with the appearance of a living thing; likely getting too metaphysical for the nature-ha! of this essay, but sometimes I’d stare at it as my … watched television, always repulsed by the color: hot pink. This might be a horrid, metaphor for a racist viewpoint or something; and if I were to put a gender on the bike, it being a living thing and all; I would say it were a boy; and both these qualities; its color and gender, (now if you hadn’t noticed are something like a metaphor for racism and sexism) kept me from associating with it; and eventually a little more than late? somebody from the condominiums holding between the handlebars until I got it; the balance of being a girl on a hot-pink boy bike. This of course is from memory, and memories aren’t, at least mine, isn’t perfect.
After I got it I rode my bike short distances around the area but for some reason I stayed what is like traumatized by bike riding to ever use bikes and riding them as a method of transporting my (body).

” ‘Wheeling’ offered independence as well as speed, and it was only respectable; it was fashionable … Susan B. Anthony enthused that bicycling ‘did more to emancipate women than anything else in the world.’ ” ”
It’s certain to me at least that whether one rides a bike or not, methods of transportation provide an I exist concept for at least one’s self, especially for those that live a life of contact with few acquaintances or a solitary life. Having method to get outside and
some notable distance away from your living situation whether you are meeting others or not, announces your existence to the world; and can certainly be empowering: like here I am, and so I exist.

By Gail Collins

Random Art Saying Book 8 for The Fictional VolunTier Project

Posted on Updated on

The next book in the Random Art Series, is available for free for five days, starting tomorrow; unless of course,

you have Kindle Unlimited, which buy it’s free forever.

Below is the link … enjoy!


update on pilgrimage and death project number 8

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Burial Site
Burial Site

update on pilgrimage:

I have a lot going on, and I’m behind … so my second pilgrimage is cancelled. Besides … I’m exhausted …

so now pilgrimage for this project only refers to the first year long pilgrimage, that I completed. (Just a reminder). Below is Death Project …

Death Project  for The Fictional VolunTier Project
by goura fotadar
(8) The Obvious: Write a Lettter To SomeBody Who You Know is Deceased.

Started … Completed 09.25.15

I don’t understand why they have to die!

Dear My Dog, Dead
I wondered about him decaying.
Dear N.D. knowing about death

Dear n
I’m so not sure why dogs die as soon as they do.
I realize that you weren’t , I never really asked you your religion and/or faith;
and instead perhaps oppressively assigned you to my Religion-Identification for you: of Buddhist-Canine. So, normally I’m not like this: oppressive, at least, or at most with regard to religion. However, I’m not sure I’d figured out how to speak to you in a language that we could communicate in well enough to discuss something like your faith-beliefs. I only mention this, because obviously, you have passed on. I swear I saw you in Heaven, but not like for a while after you passed. It’s odd because before I met you I was stalked by animals in a variety of ways, especially spiders and cats; but of course also dogs (and for years). I think I saw you before you were my dog as another dog, living in a house; and terrorizing at least an entire neighborhood. When you were forced upon me, because I wasn’t interested in adopting you, and you didn’t seem too interested in leaving your home and pack; which I must admit had a nice animal set-up for the animals there;  … The first time I saw you I was taken aback by your run out to the yard of stones and pebbles, and not grass; and the non-humaness with which you lifted up your leg and peed. Now years later, I’ve incorporated your peeing method, into my stretching postures, and I can never say I learned enough by moving along-side you … on our many long walks, of various speeds, treks through wildernesses, and short jogs/sprints; …  about movement. I learned to copy your exact movements to learn to move as much as I could like you given our size difference. I learned that though your previous owners had told me you were a terror, they had also said you were a very nice dog; that both were true. I became much closer to other animals, because you were. Together, we performed several unplanned dog rescues, with owners thanking us repeatedly; for saving their dogs from harm. A few times you ran away, in escape methods that still and barely make sense to me, and at times I found myself chasing after you; always to catch you, but not an easy  way. One time, after work, since you worked with me, on the day after Thanksgiving; yes, we worked holidays and nights, you ran away from me in a barren park, and before I knew it you were in an underground elongated ditch, which was both a climb down to and climb up to get out of. I had no idea how you had gotten down there without harming yourself, in the moment that I looked away; after that catch and climb literally using the tendrils of the sides of the hillside … and having lost my shoes and drenched in the murk of that water … cut and bleeding, I found myself thinking I wished somebody had video’d this so that I had proof of what I had to endure to get you out of there, and how I had to climb out there carrying you, but of course at that stage, being a nice dog as you were you helped, and didn’t fight me on the climb up, few can understand the syncing of energy like this and I’d guess that this is how rescues are made by beings syncing together in a way most can’t do  …   after that, you were never allowed off leash, except in enclosed areas, or small spaces of beach. We both did love the water, and it seems like it was an equal love of the water and outdoors, that brought a deep spiritual substance to our relationship. During those years, I formed my loner identity in a stronger sense, it’s not that I didn’t see or have friends, or attend social engagements; but only that my strong independence and incredibly demanding schedule found me at division with the rest of the world; however you were in my world, and the only being in it at that time, besides me. How unusual, and something that I had not planned. So that I was outgoing and and helpful at work, school, and volunteer engagements, or even yoga practice; but afterward I was alone in my world without anybody there but you; this meant that I went out to eat alone, and took you sometimes, went on hikes with you only, went to the park with you only, and did other things alone, too; like going to the movies (though I rarely had time for this). You brought into my life a dream that had not been realized when I was younger when I was burdened by what this friend, that group, this teacher (non-academic), that parent wanted; which is that I only wanted to be in my own reality, with myself; I found after I became your sole owner, that you never caused disturbance in my own reality, and taught me so much about life, exercise, and even spirituality. Once I was working as a contract proofreader, after I had graduated and in my college town, and you were at home … ; you were adopted shortly after I graduated; and you saw me through various job changes, lifestyle changes, diet changes, exercise changes, and a divorce,  a restraining order, various health issues, including a temporary? diagnosis of cancer and celiac disease, and four to six moves; … and I wondered outloud as I was planning on walking you at a certain time, and would rush back the total of 1.2 miles 3 times a day so that I could get to work, and still walk you right before, at lunch time, and right after work (not to count your other walks, also and their distances). I thought to myself how can I maximize my speed walking in work clothes (without running) to the house and grab you really quick so that your lunchtime walk was still sufficient so not to dull your intelligence while I was at work during the day. The job later, working nights and holidays, and whatever else was a blessing for us both, because you could come to work with me, and essentially you had a job; as a dog, … anyway, I wondered outloud to the two other people who shared that workspace on that floor of that building,
(Change of Voice …)
“why do dogs have to die so soon,”

it seems wrong or something to me. I wondered this of course because I had a dog, who was a major part of my life. But I’m not exactly or even close to sentimental. So I knew when he died, I would recover from “all of our times together” no matter how close we were; almost immediately, no matter how sad I was. And I did. But then you don’t know me as well as I know me, and you’ve gotta wonder, what would I be sad about if I could easily recover over about all the sentimentality that everybody is always crying about. And it’s this, if my dog was a part of my reality, I could provide for my dog things whether oppressive or not that I thought were beneficial; from his reaction, I could judge whether they were oppressive, and if they were I could drop them …
I could provide for him (at least):
long walks treks into wildernesses for hours a distance from the traffic of “normal” reality, daily, several times a day
a job situation
interaction with other dogs
unplanned dog rescues
his own room, and when not that his own location of home type in our studio
a cooling system to make his winter coat more comfortable, but he was California Born
love and affection, regularly,
a constant spiritually evolved owner; and the security of this
an alternative researched canine dog diet, including “hippie” herbs, that I myself used to enhance my yoga practice
stretching help
meditation practice, in an alternative method
and at times alternative medicine, he was generally very healthy and we didn’t go much to either alternative or regular vet often other than during obvious necessary check-ups and boosters, but in times necessary, things like acupuncture shots …

so what I was sad about was his spiritual journey.
When some (body) dies, you never know,
whether it’s a tick you pull out from
your dog’s coat right above his eye during his wash off from the manure on that trail as he barks at the animal shop person you asked to help remove that tick, so from now on you know no matter how much you don’t like ticks, you have to do it yourself, the tick removal,
or a flea that crawled onto his forehead,
you just can’t know about where they’re going next,
if even if it’s nowhere …
and I wanted to know what if my dog was going to be alright,
spiritually speaking,
I wanted for him next what was better than what he had in the life we had together,
and I only wished that this is what he had earned spiritually speaking,
so obviously I practiced well-wishing practices on him for his spiritual future,
and also for his general safety …
and of course I planned his funeral when he did pass, years ahead of time;

but when he passed,
there was a huge shift in my reality,
and we were on the road,
and that’s where he died,
and right before he died we visited a catholic statue type of though I’m not catholic in southern california,
and the place was swarming with cats,
and usually, my dog,
wasn’t exactly friendly to cats,
but this time,
he didn’t react to them at all,
and I should have known.
He died soon after,
and I called the police, because we were on the road,
and I thought about his age: he was perfectly healthy and ten and a half; and I’d been around him for close to seven years, now at the time of his death, which had been the majority of his life;
and though you can never predict,
I expected him to live to about thirteen,
and they offered me local humane society place referrals  to take his body,
and of course their empathy since they worked with dogs in k-9 units,
but for some reason, since the funeral that I had planned years from then,
couldn’t happen,
I had another one for him,
which was in something like dirt dunes somewhere in texas,
and with all the things I had of his with me,
next to him,
and I stayed there until a state trooper drove into the pit with a view,
and said I had to leave the body now,
because drug bandits were in the area, and
it was dangerous, and so I should leave (now.)
So I did.
Of course, then I included fictionalized accounts of him in
“snippets” in Soul Pieces, the series I worked on and published on my pilgrimage.

But months after, close to a year after, my dog passed, I started to have dreams about him,
and then I thought I saw him in Heaven …
so in my spiritual worry sense about him …
obviously things turned out (in that sense)
good or better than.

And in the sentimental sense,
I lived in the moment with him,
and so there’s nothing I regret, or wish I could do over then with him.

Thanks N.D. for being an amazing animal and creature to live with, I learned an enormous amount from you, and hope the same (or opposite or reverse or something) is also true.
Besides that, I had an amazing life with you,
and you are exceptional as a being; and you were an exceptional partner in living, which is more than I can say for anybody else I’ve ever lived with (all humans included).

I will never forget you (in the good way)!
-Goura Fotadar

N.D. in Fremont years ago ; A former x-mas card picture; R.I.P. N.D.
N.D. in Fremont years ago ; A former x-mas card picture;
R.I.P. N.D.

Death Project Number 14

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We Died
We Died

Date: 09.19.15
I’ve been working on something else, and so haven’t had much time here, but this is something given the state in time; that I thought to put up from Death Project that I’m ‘ve come up (with) and , and … uh
am putting together. (Based on my reading or something … uh)
From Death Project  for The Fictional VolunTier Project

(14) An experience of seeing modern day in memorial with somebody else, and how this felt against the setting of modern day

A few years – back
when I was in graduate school,
I somehow become (had) entwined in the ride situation for a few folks.
Once I was giving somebody a ride to the B.A.R.T nearby, but too far for walking; and not decent enough of a situation for bike-riding (the option provided for that person), given the weather conditions at that time or season or something. We’d a class together toward the night almost late during a season or something … uh.

Anyway, we were in a counseling program so like …
the discussion of trauma,
building of empathy, family patterns,
were all hanging in the air; along with the necessary reaching of the professional levels of these concepts (turned into real life profession traits, hopefully), made the atmosphere a little urgently spasmodic or something.
Our nation …
was at war at the time,
and most of us in our program,
were like more conscious of it than like for example, perhaps most of the rest of the civilian population …
occupational hazard or something like that type of blase term
better: soon-to-be occupational hazard.
I always say that X-mas time was the Strangest Time to be working as a counselor, because I
already worked
as a lowly paid one …
anyway, I pointed out to my passenger a very large death-war memorial type of thing, across from that B.A.R.T. station, then …
impossible to miss,
and I had noticed folks taking and/or near B.A.R.T. avoiding glancing at it, and …
Bay Area Anti-War Culture?
Anyhow, I spoke up about it to my passenger … something like, “sorry I was listening to what you were saying, but I was just looking at those crosses representing o’ folks that died in this War …”
My passenger started to spasm not in a lethal way, but in a way that had matched the now gone energy from our school’s training program (had been just ten minutes prior present in the car, but was now gone …)
Death makes folks (some) uncomfortable?
Especially, War Death?
Especially, War Death in the Bay Area?
Couldn’t Confirm that Don’t Know, Just Observing Experience.

(By the way, the updated references list is also included, next … )

Updated 09.19.15
References for Death Project:
Death & Dying,
Life & Living
Sixth Edition, Seventh Edition only by Charles A. Corr and Donna M. Corr
By Charles A. Corr Clyde M. Nabe Donna M. Corr

(2) http://www.deathreference.com/Da-Em/Death-System.html

(3) Association for Death Education & Counseling

(4) Handbook of Thanatology 2nd Edition
David K. Meagher & David E. Balk

eye of my heart
edited by barbara graham
introductin by mary pipher

(6)  http://works.bepress.com/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1051&context=philip_stone

by Deborah Noyes

A Field Guide to Cemetery
Symbolism and Iconography
Written and photographed by

(9) Embalming Principles and Legal Aspects
First Edition
By M.L. Ajmani