measured_words (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
measured_words) wrote2006-05-09 10:36 pm
measured_words) wrote2006-05-09 10:36 pm
Entry tags:
Pieces Part Twenty-One
Well, here we go! I hope that the sparring scenes in this are both realistic and clear - pelase let me know if there are any problems! I was hoping to get through more in this section, but it is already long (1996 words - total 32490), and I figure that itbends in a place that will allow me to pick up easily in the next bit, and I can finish up what I was hoping would take two sections in three. In any case, here we go! And I hope that I can get another bit out this week at the 'regular' time, and remain on top of things from here on out. Yay!
Other Pieces
The main room of the convention centre is divided into seven demonstration areas – three along each wall and one larger area in the centre. These areas are roped off, and there are blue and red gym mats lain over the carpet. Easels nearby each sport posters with a schedule for the demonstrations. Various clubs, dojos, and kwoons have booths set up in aisles facing the mats, advertising their reputation, techniques, rates, and so forth. There are demonstrations in some of the smaller conference rooms as well, for clubs that couldn't afford or otherwise weren't interested in demonstration time.
The demonstrations in progress are quite varied. Trina's club, Full Circle Synergy Tai Chi, is set up in Area E. Area B seems to be primarily devoted to a rotation of children's classes. C is currently the Kung-Fu Club of Seattle, Sei Do Kan Judo in D, the Tulen Centre for Martial Arts and Wellness in F (a group about which Alita is apparently enthused), and in Area G, Pacific Rain Aikido. Area A, the larger central area, there has been a sort of informal competition ongoing, with new challengers sparring against the victor of the most recent fight. Most of the bouts are over very quickly, and it seems to be mostly the same pool of people from a few schools participating.
There are a fair number of spectators at the demonstrations, as other people chatting at the booths or wandering aimlessly. This is definitely the largest crowd I have been in for quite some time. I have made a circuit already, and left Alita and Trina discussing their plans. I have Alita's cell number, but I'm not worried of losing track of her. I can make it back on my own if necessary, and have told her as much. I'm not certain how much time I will want to spend here.
I have been watching some of the demonstrations. As I came with Alita, who came for Trina, we watched hers first. Her club demonstrated their basic form, and then Trina and two other more advanced members demonstrated their sword form, both at the usual slow and graceful pace of Tai Chi and sped up to demonstrate its martial uses. It seemed potentially effective, and their skill was impressive enough, but Trina told me that her school does not generally study any of the practical applications. They focus on the aspects that interest me less – as she put it, focusing their spiritual energies and the natural harmony of body and spirit.
My problem with this approach is two fold. First of all, though I may be less consciously doubtful of the existence of some kind of spiritual forces in this world, I still feel no personal connection to them. The slow speed of the form is intended to force consciousness of these spiritual connections through the need to control the speed and fluidity of the movements themselves – to force a heightened awareness of one's self. This is the root of my second problem. I am already acutely self aware on a level that most of these people are probably simply not capable of attaining. It is too easy for my mind to control, with extreme precision, my movements. Likewise, to remember and duplicate a particular form is a simple matter of memorization, and as such, no real challenge. I need something more than this to test myself physically, mentally, or otherwise.
What I told Trina, and Alita, is that I have too good a kinetic memory to benefit from such an approach. As I have taken at least one class from both of them at the gym, they accepted this based on their own observations.
Currently, I am watching the demonstrations in Area D. Judo interests me as I have had some training already in specific judo maneuvers, and also because there is less spirituality and even mysticism associated with many of the schools that have grown up in the US. It is a sport, not some kind of path to enlightenment. There are some drawbacks, however. It is highly competitive, and many schools follow a strict timeline for progression that would prevent me from feeling challenged for some time. Still, I have collected a number of pamphlets from some local organizations to look over. I may also watch some of the karate demonstrations this afternoon, if I am still here, and have amassed some relevant information.
The pair currently engaged on the mats, two dark haired boys in their late teens, have been sparing for close to five minutes. They seem quite evenly matched, and also quite familiar with each other's moves and style. This isn't entirely surprising as they are both from the same school. Their technique is quite solid. The smaller of the two executes a perfect throw and rolls to his feet. His opponent recovers quickly, kicking out with a leg sweep that off-balances the other youth just long enough for him to regain his own footing. This fight is growing stale, and I move off to watch the fights in the centre area.
In the past few minutes, their character has changed. I had noticed a change in the attitudes of the spectators, and in their growing numbers. People are fascinated by brutality as much as by skill, and the brown-skinned man who currently reigns in the ring certain has the bearing of a brute. He is large and powerfully built, but not tall – maybe 5'10". His head and chest are shaved, and he is wearing only a pair of loose black pants. On the far corner of the ring are a group of similarly attired and shorn men, cheering on their companion, apparently named Marcus.
Facing him in the group is a tall blonde woman, her hair pulled back into a French braid. She is wearing a black gi belted with a black sash and a stylized yinyang emblem of two fighting dragons. As they circle around the mats, I can see that she already has a quickly darkening bruise across the left side of her face, and her eye is swelling. Despite this, she looks determined and focused. The MC and referee for the matches, a tall grey-haired black man, looks somewhat concerned. On the other side of the floor near area G, some of the medical personal on hand are setting the left wrist of an older man previously engaged in the sparring. With his free hand, he holds an ice pack to his bloody nose and blackening eye. The EMT's are also watching the ring closely.
The blonde woman is going to lose. She is not strong enough to match her opponent's blows, and those he has already landed have slowed her down so that she can avoid fewer of them. Though she has landed a number of solid hits they do not seem to have deterred Marcus much at all. She slips into an arrow stance to recover strength and breath, and her opponent grins arrogantly, narrowing his eyes. His friends cheer as he lunges forward, interrupting her recovery.
Someone with a strong presence has just entered the room, and I look past the fight as Marcus kicks the blonde woman backwards past the security ropes to my right. I recognize the man from the Japanese gardens, the one who invited Anna and me to the tea ceremony. There truly are no coincidences. He looks quickly around the room, perhaps aware of me as well, but he is talking with an Asian woman. She is dressed similarly to the woman now in the ring and carrying what looks like some kind of protective face mask with extended shoulder protection, and is hurrying him towards the referee. He is wearing loose wide legged navy pants and a white gi, and has a wooden katana (a boken?) sheathed through his belt. His hair is pulled back simply in a ponytail.
The referee is currently helping the blonde woman to her feet, and the Asian girl – she may also be Japanese now that I can see her better – steps in to help support her friend, passing the headgear back to her male companion. I can't hear the conversation from here over the murmurs running through the spectators at the ringside and the hundreds of other cries and conversations from the other areas and booths. Marcus has gone over to receive congratulations from his supporters. I could make more of an attempt to listen in but it seems frivolous. The referee and the man from the tea house speak briefly, and the latter hands over his wooden sword and headgear. He says something over his shoulder to the two women as they head towards the EMTs. The blonde is limping badly, and holding her ribs protectively.
The man scans the crowd again briefly before focusing his attention on Marcus, and the referee consults with some of the others who had been participating in the sparing. The crowd mutters anxiously, sensing perhaps that there is something new afoot. After a moment, the referee steps back into the ring, and calls out in his booming voice to announce the next match.
"Ladies and gentleman, it has been an intense morning so far, I think we can agree, and the reigning champion of the hour is Marcus d'Hiver, of Costal Thunder Muay Thai! Despite his clear-" he pauses for an instant, and though he is trying to drum up enthusiasm for the sparring, there is an undertone of concern, and even disapproval, in his tone. "-prowess, we have found a new challenger. Please everyone welcome Ikkei Oyama of the Portland State University Kendo club. And of course since our sparing rules do not allow for the use of weapons… this should be interesting."
Indeed, it should be, though perhaps not for the reasons he expects. Oyama steps into the ring and bows low, first to Marcus, then to the ref, and then to Marcus again. His opponent shrugs, and gives him a cursory nod as he sizes him up. They both step forward to the centre of the ring. Oyama's eyes scan the crowd once more and rest, finally and briefly, on me. He shows no surprise, but nods briefly as the referee calls the beginning of the match.
Oyama is the same height as Marcus, but it is hard to gauge his build under his loose clothing. He slips into a defensive stance and waits for the other man to make his opening attack. It doesn't take long, and neither does the fight itself. Marcus steps in quickly with a lunge and an elbow, but Oyama is past his guard, and delivers a strong chop to the left side of Marcus's neck. The brown-skinned man stumbles backwards, coughing and grabbing at his throat. Oyama avoided his attack by simply not being there – and the crowd perceived that he moved very quickly. He slips back into a neutral pose. Marcus is not breathing well, but is apparently unwilling to give in so easily. He steps into Oyama, hoping to knock him off his feet with the same kick delivered to the blonde earlier. Instead, Oyama uses his own momentum to bring him to the ground, pinning him quickly with a painful joint lock on his ankle. This, at least, is pure skill, with no manipulation of other forces.
The referee squats beside the pinned ex-champion. "Do you yield?"
Marcus glowers, but Oyama replies and the pinned man eventually nods his assent. Oyama releases him, and bows again to both Marcus and the referee. The defeated champion limps towards his friends, glaring daggers back over his shoulder and massaging his neck. He does have the sense, or the grace, to bow before he leaves the ring.
The crowd is surprised and impressed, though somewhat disappointed that the match was over so quickly. Their disappointment increases when, instead of remaining on the mats, Oyama collects his sword and headgear and steps back outside the ropes.
Other Pieces
The main room of the convention centre is divided into seven demonstration areas – three along each wall and one larger area in the centre. These areas are roped off, and there are blue and red gym mats lain over the carpet. Easels nearby each sport posters with a schedule for the demonstrations. Various clubs, dojos, and kwoons have booths set up in aisles facing the mats, advertising their reputation, techniques, rates, and so forth. There are demonstrations in some of the smaller conference rooms as well, for clubs that couldn't afford or otherwise weren't interested in demonstration time.
The demonstrations in progress are quite varied. Trina's club, Full Circle Synergy Tai Chi, is set up in Area E. Area B seems to be primarily devoted to a rotation of children's classes. C is currently the Kung-Fu Club of Seattle, Sei Do Kan Judo in D, the Tulen Centre for Martial Arts and Wellness in F (a group about which Alita is apparently enthused), and in Area G, Pacific Rain Aikido. Area A, the larger central area, there has been a sort of informal competition ongoing, with new challengers sparring against the victor of the most recent fight. Most of the bouts are over very quickly, and it seems to be mostly the same pool of people from a few schools participating.
There are a fair number of spectators at the demonstrations, as other people chatting at the booths or wandering aimlessly. This is definitely the largest crowd I have been in for quite some time. I have made a circuit already, and left Alita and Trina discussing their plans. I have Alita's cell number, but I'm not worried of losing track of her. I can make it back on my own if necessary, and have told her as much. I'm not certain how much time I will want to spend here.
I have been watching some of the demonstrations. As I came with Alita, who came for Trina, we watched hers first. Her club demonstrated their basic form, and then Trina and two other more advanced members demonstrated their sword form, both at the usual slow and graceful pace of Tai Chi and sped up to demonstrate its martial uses. It seemed potentially effective, and their skill was impressive enough, but Trina told me that her school does not generally study any of the practical applications. They focus on the aspects that interest me less – as she put it, focusing their spiritual energies and the natural harmony of body and spirit.
My problem with this approach is two fold. First of all, though I may be less consciously doubtful of the existence of some kind of spiritual forces in this world, I still feel no personal connection to them. The slow speed of the form is intended to force consciousness of these spiritual connections through the need to control the speed and fluidity of the movements themselves – to force a heightened awareness of one's self. This is the root of my second problem. I am already acutely self aware on a level that most of these people are probably simply not capable of attaining. It is too easy for my mind to control, with extreme precision, my movements. Likewise, to remember and duplicate a particular form is a simple matter of memorization, and as such, no real challenge. I need something more than this to test myself physically, mentally, or otherwise.
What I told Trina, and Alita, is that I have too good a kinetic memory to benefit from such an approach. As I have taken at least one class from both of them at the gym, they accepted this based on their own observations.
Currently, I am watching the demonstrations in Area D. Judo interests me as I have had some training already in specific judo maneuvers, and also because there is less spirituality and even mysticism associated with many of the schools that have grown up in the US. It is a sport, not some kind of path to enlightenment. There are some drawbacks, however. It is highly competitive, and many schools follow a strict timeline for progression that would prevent me from feeling challenged for some time. Still, I have collected a number of pamphlets from some local organizations to look over. I may also watch some of the karate demonstrations this afternoon, if I am still here, and have amassed some relevant information.
The pair currently engaged on the mats, two dark haired boys in their late teens, have been sparing for close to five minutes. They seem quite evenly matched, and also quite familiar with each other's moves and style. This isn't entirely surprising as they are both from the same school. Their technique is quite solid. The smaller of the two executes a perfect throw and rolls to his feet. His opponent recovers quickly, kicking out with a leg sweep that off-balances the other youth just long enough for him to regain his own footing. This fight is growing stale, and I move off to watch the fights in the centre area.
In the past few minutes, their character has changed. I had noticed a change in the attitudes of the spectators, and in their growing numbers. People are fascinated by brutality as much as by skill, and the brown-skinned man who currently reigns in the ring certain has the bearing of a brute. He is large and powerfully built, but not tall – maybe 5'10". His head and chest are shaved, and he is wearing only a pair of loose black pants. On the far corner of the ring are a group of similarly attired and shorn men, cheering on their companion, apparently named Marcus.
Facing him in the group is a tall blonde woman, her hair pulled back into a French braid. She is wearing a black gi belted with a black sash and a stylized yinyang emblem of two fighting dragons. As they circle around the mats, I can see that she already has a quickly darkening bruise across the left side of her face, and her eye is swelling. Despite this, she looks determined and focused. The MC and referee for the matches, a tall grey-haired black man, looks somewhat concerned. On the other side of the floor near area G, some of the medical personal on hand are setting the left wrist of an older man previously engaged in the sparring. With his free hand, he holds an ice pack to his bloody nose and blackening eye. The EMT's are also watching the ring closely.
The blonde woman is going to lose. She is not strong enough to match her opponent's blows, and those he has already landed have slowed her down so that she can avoid fewer of them. Though she has landed a number of solid hits they do not seem to have deterred Marcus much at all. She slips into an arrow stance to recover strength and breath, and her opponent grins arrogantly, narrowing his eyes. His friends cheer as he lunges forward, interrupting her recovery.
Someone with a strong presence has just entered the room, and I look past the fight as Marcus kicks the blonde woman backwards past the security ropes to my right. I recognize the man from the Japanese gardens, the one who invited Anna and me to the tea ceremony. There truly are no coincidences. He looks quickly around the room, perhaps aware of me as well, but he is talking with an Asian woman. She is dressed similarly to the woman now in the ring and carrying what looks like some kind of protective face mask with extended shoulder protection, and is hurrying him towards the referee. He is wearing loose wide legged navy pants and a white gi, and has a wooden katana (a boken?) sheathed through his belt. His hair is pulled back simply in a ponytail.
The referee is currently helping the blonde woman to her feet, and the Asian girl – she may also be Japanese now that I can see her better – steps in to help support her friend, passing the headgear back to her male companion. I can't hear the conversation from here over the murmurs running through the spectators at the ringside and the hundreds of other cries and conversations from the other areas and booths. Marcus has gone over to receive congratulations from his supporters. I could make more of an attempt to listen in but it seems frivolous. The referee and the man from the tea house speak briefly, and the latter hands over his wooden sword and headgear. He says something over his shoulder to the two women as they head towards the EMTs. The blonde is limping badly, and holding her ribs protectively.
The man scans the crowd again briefly before focusing his attention on Marcus, and the referee consults with some of the others who had been participating in the sparing. The crowd mutters anxiously, sensing perhaps that there is something new afoot. After a moment, the referee steps back into the ring, and calls out in his booming voice to announce the next match.
"Ladies and gentleman, it has been an intense morning so far, I think we can agree, and the reigning champion of the hour is Marcus d'Hiver, of Costal Thunder Muay Thai! Despite his clear-" he pauses for an instant, and though he is trying to drum up enthusiasm for the sparring, there is an undertone of concern, and even disapproval, in his tone. "-prowess, we have found a new challenger. Please everyone welcome Ikkei Oyama of the Portland State University Kendo club. And of course since our sparing rules do not allow for the use of weapons… this should be interesting."
Indeed, it should be, though perhaps not for the reasons he expects. Oyama steps into the ring and bows low, first to Marcus, then to the ref, and then to Marcus again. His opponent shrugs, and gives him a cursory nod as he sizes him up. They both step forward to the centre of the ring. Oyama's eyes scan the crowd once more and rest, finally and briefly, on me. He shows no surprise, but nods briefly as the referee calls the beginning of the match.
Oyama is the same height as Marcus, but it is hard to gauge his build under his loose clothing. He slips into a defensive stance and waits for the other man to make his opening attack. It doesn't take long, and neither does the fight itself. Marcus steps in quickly with a lunge and an elbow, but Oyama is past his guard, and delivers a strong chop to the left side of Marcus's neck. The brown-skinned man stumbles backwards, coughing and grabbing at his throat. Oyama avoided his attack by simply not being there – and the crowd perceived that he moved very quickly. He slips back into a neutral pose. Marcus is not breathing well, but is apparently unwilling to give in so easily. He steps into Oyama, hoping to knock him off his feet with the same kick delivered to the blonde earlier. Instead, Oyama uses his own momentum to bring him to the ground, pinning him quickly with a painful joint lock on his ankle. This, at least, is pure skill, with no manipulation of other forces.
The referee squats beside the pinned ex-champion. "Do you yield?"
Marcus glowers, but Oyama replies and the pinned man eventually nods his assent. Oyama releases him, and bows again to both Marcus and the referee. The defeated champion limps towards his friends, glaring daggers back over his shoulder and massaging his neck. He does have the sense, or the grace, to bow before he leaves the ring.
The crowd is surprised and impressed, though somewhat disappointed that the match was over so quickly. Their disappointment increases when, instead of remaining on the mats, Oyama collects his sword and headgear and steps back outside the ropes.
no subject
"He slips back into a neural pose" - neutral, also hee!
"painful join lock on his ankle" - joint
"Their disappointment increased when, instead of remaining on the mats, Oyama collects his sword and headgear and steps back outside the ropes." - changes from past to present tense here.
Dang mages! ;)
And now I'm finally caught up, yay! I'm enjoying the story very much :)
no subject
I am glad that you are enjoying the story, thanks for all the comments :D