The Matrix Chronicles

My husband, son and myself have owned a coffeehouse/music venue in the Northwest for almost thirteen years where we present musicians, comedians, artists and adventures in creating community. This project has provided great inspiration for my writing and I will share some of the pieces I have written during this time in this space.

The Matrix Chronicles 

8/07/02 – I have been wanting to write in this space-opportunity-meme-holder since Moon set it up quite some time ago. But, you know busyness, and all that–no I do not mean b-u-s-i-n-e-ss, I mean just being busy. In fact, it is my aversion to the concept of business that I want to write about. One of the unfortunate side effects of owning your own “business” is that people actually think you are a business person. I am not a business person, but I guess I am a busyness person, or at least sometimes I am. I am not a business person because I prefer to be a Real person, to the best of my ability, anyway. And besides, business is not exactly what we wanted to do when we started the Matrix Coffeehouse. It was much more like having a baby, or temporary schizophrenia, or boredom that led us to create the coffeehouse. Now I must admit that sometimes we appear to be trying to play as if we are business people, mostly out of sheer desperation to pay for this thing we have created. We sincerely hope our play-acting has not chased anyone away, because actually we really like company and meeting people. I suppose not being business people has more often chased people away. Oh well. I have imagined that in this writing space I could at least start to write about our adventure here at the Matrix Coffeehouse in Chehalis, WA.–the Matrix Chronicles so to speak. So I shall begin with the name Matrix. It has been a good name so far; we probably have gotten a lot of hits to our website because of the movie, but as a matter of fact we chose the name Matrix way before the movie. Here’s part of what we had in mind at the time:

“Matrix” from the dictionary:

1. Something(as a surrounding or pervading substance or element) within which something else originates, takes form or develops {an atmosphere of understanding and friendliness that is the “matrix” of peace} 2. A place or point of origin or growth.

GOALS AND METHODS

~To promote the appreciation of art and the expression of individual creativity.
~Gallery, studio space

~To create a vital environment in which families can appreciate the arts and sciences
~Music, film festivals, classes and educational exhibits.

~To help young people find mentors who will inspire them and instill hope for the future.
~Drop-in art school, individual tutoring.

~To provide space for diverse cultural groups to meet, interact and learn from each other. ~Cafe, poetry readings, events calendar

~To create a sanctuary for the arts which nurtures the sole by encouraging inner peace and self-reflection l.
~An energetic “meditation” room decor

10/2006 BiPolar Star–A Halloween story
I am happy tonight. I just heard that James, the drummer for Content to Drown, a band that used to play at our coffeehouse just got his dream job. He has been hired on to NASA where he will help to build the next space shuttle. This is a very big deal in our small community and it has given me the particle of hope I’ve needed.
Last week was difficult. I’ve been on the down-swing and most of my thoughts and attitudes towards self and others have been disparaging and recriminating. This is not an appropriate attitude and does not bode well for a substitute teacher and owner of a coffeehouse where youth often gather.
Some of the young people I have encountered recently seem more aggressive, discouraged, rude even. It’s not surprising, considering the state of the world: the violence, the lies, global warming, orcas dying from PCB contamination, ocean dead zones. And kids continue to kill each other—innocent Christian children are going to summer camps to be turned into warriors for Christ, young Muslim children, jihadists.
In our town there seem to be more high school dropouts and graduates who are either out of work or doing inane jobs for which they are ill-suited. The other day I was talking with an alternative-styled drop-out with lots of piercings who got a job telemarketing for a guns rights organization. He gets a commission every time he gets someone to sign a petition.
“Are you sure you want the karma associated with enabling people to shoot at each other?” I said to him.
“Hey, it’s the only job I could find,” he responded morosely.
A sweet young woman who I have had numerous dialogues with about psychology and world religions reported to me that she finally found a job selling knives. The next week she came in with a hefty bandage on her hand. We set up a time for her to give us her sales pitch and found a few friends who would do the same. It’s not that we have enough money to buy any knives, but at least she will get a little money for making presentations. I’m sad to think of all the kids whose potential and creativity are lost by years of boring classes and more boring jobs.
Another reason I have been depressed is that my car is falling apart and I don’t really want another one, considering the irrefutable reality of global warming. To those who think the question is still refutable, I’m sorry, but you’re just not keeping up. I’ve considered trying to find a car that only uses biodiesel but someone told me it isn’t really much better for the environment. Yesterday I slipped into a nostalgic trance and looked up old Volvos on craigslist. I know these cars were safer and more reliable, but they are not less polluting.
Despite all these issues, I have a little faith tonight because James, who used to beat the hell out of his drums, just got a job at NASA doing something which may be of use. Maybe if NASA survives budget cuts we can eventually move some people off the planet, skip Armageddon altogether and leave this paradise to the whales, dolphins and other fun-loving creatures.
Thinking about James, I remember a night I had almost forgotten. I am delighted by the retrieval of this memory. Years ago, Content to Drown was playing when I heard a loud pop coming from backstage. Suddenly at least half of the 3000 square feet of our coffeehouse was filled with teensy scraps of colored paper. I hurried backstage to discover James, the future employee of NASA, setting off a potato-powered confetti rocket. Seeing the concern in my expression, he quickly reassured me that he knew what he was doing, so I put aside my worry. How could I resist his confidence, the fun, the joy I saw in the audience. Soon I was ecstatic. Punk rock with hyper speed drumming and bits of rainbow floating in the air—what more could I ask for? I remember an adult who was there that night asking me why I would put up with such shenanigans. But for months we had confetti in the nooks and crannies of the building and every time I swept up a tiny bright missive I was uplifted.
It is now the week following the news flash about James’s new job, and the fall leaves are escort for a complete return of my joie de vivre. I have even decided early this year what I want to be for Halloween
I called the parents of a nine year old who is being home-schooled with my supervision. Samuel, who is currently emerged in astronomy, asked me so many questions yesterday about the cosmos, questions like: “How far away is the sun? And will it blow up? Is this the actual size of an asteroid? Is this a real photo of an asteroid? “
I responded “No, Samuel. This is an artist’s portrayal of an asteroid.” He smiled knowingly. Samuel is an artist, too.
Tonight I saw a Nova special on neutrinos and thought maybe Samuel is ready for neutrinos. So I called and told his dad about the show.
“He asked about forty questions on the way home,” his Dad informed me. I remember Mike, a 5th grade student I had years ago who was obsessed with neutrinos. He taught me everything I knew about them until watching the TV program earlier tonight. I remember that when Mike was in middle school he wrote a paper about his theory on neutrinos which was stolen from his booth at a science fair. Where is he now, I wonder? The last time I saw him he had graduated from high school and I think he said he was playing music. I saw another show on TV recently about research that indicated that music makes you smarter.
So here I am, at the coffeehouse again, the end of a better week in school. The music is loud; the kids are grooving and I know what I’m going to be for Halloween. So even though I know it will require some research and it will definitely be difficult to portray, I plan to be a neutrino. After all, when I was nine, I was a Sputnik for Halloween—thanks to an abundance of aluminum foil and a bipolar mother. As of this moment, all I know is that a neutrino is a mysterious particle with no positive or negative charge and very little mass. Could we say it is light-hearted? Neutrinos come in different “colors” and cause the sun to shine. We could say that we are descended from neutrinos.
I think I will stay afloat all weekend. A band I really like will be playing. I laugh, remembering the band’s name. It is Bipolar Star.