Persephone Abbott

Posts from the “Memory” Category

Lots of Fans in Roswell?

Posted on September 7, 2025

I was inspecting the google analytics page listing the cities where people are interacting with Routine Apparitions. Roswell. That must be the UFO connection.  And how have I gotten to Roswell? Here’s the trail, interview style, for fun:  What am I doing with my days? I am looking for my father’s missing archival materials. What did my mother do with them before she died? And who was involved in the disappearance of the materials? Why weren’t they sent to the archives in Bellingham?  Fact: they are not there. And how did this come to pass?  Well, first I have to consider the stories my mother told about my father.  A load of bad ones, that’s for sure. In her narrative, I got flame torched…

Categories: Announcements, Book, Memory, Mindfulness

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My Dearest Own Harald

Posted on August 17, 2025

Debunking my mother’s false identities since her death has taken years. Of course, she wove her disingenuous narratives for decades and targeted different communities with her various falsehoods. Every once in a while I come across an item and I think, “Let me address this, set the record straight.” It’s not only me, other family members have also been involved in this matter. A few months ago I wrote, again, to an American professor of Scandinavian studies. He had written a review of the book that my mother participated in — and in which she provided a story about her grandfather having been raised in a Sami family with Sami traditions. It’s all quite sensitive on a cultural plain, but I feel communication is…

Categories: Memory, Mindfulness

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Prague To Budapest

Posted on June 27, 2025

I have to admit that I am becoming a bit of a fan of the Austro-Hungarian empire. And I am not talking politics. Having paid much less attention to this particular historical region of Europe than others, I realized the inevitable fairly early on while in Prague. I’d have to review history to understand the buildings and their historical context for this trip.  *** During one of my last days in Prague I had a mind to visit the Museum of Decorative Arts. The main displays weren’t quite what I was hoping to see. The interior of the building, though, looked like a mix between a festive birthday cake and a fantasy set for a First Communion celebration and it was around then that…

Categories: History, Memory, Mindfulness, Tourism

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Beat Scene 112

Posted on June 9, 2025

My piece on my father’s missing manuscripts and notebooks was published in Beat Scene. Thank you Kevin Ring for highlighting this matter and supporting Mordecai of Monterey! Maybe some of Mordecai’s melanoia (the feeling that good things are going to happen) will grace us all! #keithabbott #keithkumasenabbott #beatscene #beatpoets #mordecai #monterey #longmontcolorado #naropa #persephoneabbott #watergate #zen #buddhism #bouldermennonitechurch #rhinoritz

Categories: Book, Memory, Mindfulness

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Reflections in Aachen 2025

Posted on May 3, 2025

In 1984 I visited Germany for the first time. Although I didn’t get to visit Aachen in 1984, I definitely wanted to see Aachen. Having read up on Charlemagne during my high school’s medieval history class I well understood the core concepts: throne, crowning, important location.   Instead of Aachen in 1984, I was placed as a summer exchange student in a small town in Westfalia. It was a beautiful town with gabled houses and a medieval ruin. I took walks, but as I was socially not very outgoing, you might say I didn’t “react” well to being in a small town. I started to watch Herz zu Herz (Hart to Hart dubbed in German which is the only way to watch Hart to Hart…

Categories: Autism, History, Memory, Tourism

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Reflections in Germany 2025

Posted on May 2, 2025

I recall the coolness the moment I stepped into the hall, and I remember the odor of wood polish. It was July and I was seventeen.  I might have looked like I had a lot going on, but I didn’t. Coming from the north by car, I was deposited into the care of my father’s German translator by my American Field Service host and hostess who didn’t quite know what to do with me.  Tecklenburg had been a strain. It was a small and cosy town on a hill with a medieval ruin in Westfalia. A theater had been set up between the walls of the former castle. Along with the members of my host family, I stood on stage in the rain dressed…

Categories: Memory, Poetry, Tourism

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Artistic License

Posted on April 20, 2025

Cleaning up my social media this week, I came across the name of a French baritone in my list of friends. Jacques Calatayud was a devoted friend to Suzanne Sarroca (and her former student) and he had died. And so had she. They died within a year of each other. I had no idea. In 2015 I met up with both of them for dinner in Paris. Sarroca was already quite in advanced age, still living in her apartment on the rue Notre Dame de Lorette, and Jacques was attentive to her needs. He screened the diva’s socializing activities and facilitated the meeting with Sarroca. I remember him as a very gentle and kind person.  “You are lucky,” Sarroca said to me over dinner,…

Categories: Memory

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Some thoughts while transcribing my father’s memoir on his acceptance of Zen Buddhism and his relationship with Kobun Chino Roshi 

Posted on April 12, 2025

I was, by all means, skeptical. My father had never shown any interest in organized religion, but there he was in front of me in his study in Longmont, Colorado. He was talking to me about sewing up his little pouch and explaining how my mother had helped him.  This was possibly a few years after his refuge vow ceremony which I missed. At the time I had been in the process of moving from Singapore back to the Netherlands. I don’t recall if I actually had been invited to witness his vows. It seems to me that I had been told about the occasion and was, in some way, expected to show up. Didn’t I understand the importance?  In years prior to Keith’s…

Categories: History, Memory, Mindfulness

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Paradise

Posted on March 31, 2025

I had thought about it. The American Photography exhibition at the Rijksmuseum. Then my phone via Facebook or Instagram or Osmosis-Goo suggested that I seriously consider buying a ticket, like right now, click the link and chakka-gotcha! The Rijksmuseum sits just around the corner from my apartment, a five minute walk. Motivated, I took the bait. Walking through the exhibit at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, I thought about my age. From my memory bank I can understand the subject matter in the photographs, either because I was already born or my grandparents were alive during the early to mid 20th century era or because the historical photographs of locations were still somewhat recognizable to what I recall seeing when I lived in…

Categories: History, Memory, Mindfulness

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Pilgrimage

Posted on March 16, 2025

Reading Shakespeare and drinking tea are pleasant occupations. And drinking whiskey and reading Shakespeare are also pleasant occupations. A friend of mine and I meet up every so often and read a play together. We switch the parts freely. She’s a health care professional and during the break between transitioning from the tea to the whiskey part of the evening she said to me, “You know, living with a narcissist ages a person.” She meant literally ages a person physically, mentally and spiritually. I remembered  myself at the age of seventeen when I couldn’t recall what I had done an hour previously. I wasn’t taking medication, I wasn’t under the influence of any substances. In despair I dyed my hair grey for a period…

Categories: Amsterdam, Memory, Mindfulness, Spirituality, Tourism

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