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

Tagged: Amsterdam, Archives, Bellingham, Colorado, Keith Abbott, Keith Kumasen Abbott, Longmont, Missing manuscripts, Mordecai of Monterey, Persephone Abbott, UFOS

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

Tagged: Family, Hillesoy, Letter, Norway, Persephone Abbott

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

Tagged: Budapest, Persephone Abbott, Prague

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

Tagged: 1046 Grant Street, Beat Scene, Buddhism, Colorado, Keith Abbott, Keith Kumasen Abbott, Longmont, Mordecai of Monterey, naropa, Persephone Abbott, Zen

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

Tagged: 1046 Grant Street Longmont, Buddhism, calligraphy, Keith Abbott, Keith Kumasen Abbott, Kobun Chino Roshi, Longmont, naropa, Persephone Abbott, Zen

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

Tagged: Amsterdam, Keith Kumasen Abbott, Mordecai of Monterey, Nevada, Persephone Abbott, Washington

Worms Riding the Air Waves

Posted on March 26, 2025

He opened up a ledger book. The ledger book looked familiar. Somewhere at my grandmother’s house on the outskirts of Tacoma back in the 1970’s I’d seen one that, it seemed to me, now appeared to have been transported to Amsterdam. I was standing in a narrow and crooked building that had been constructed in the 17th century. It was presently a tourist shop and a UPS pick up point. It was my third attempt at collecting my parcel. “You must file a police report.” The instructions from the Amazon-Ready-Set-Answer department were clear. My question had been, “Where is my package?” By this point I had already been to a designated pick up point twice. After two attempts at the pick up point, I…

Categories: Amsterdam, Mindfulness

Tagged: Amsterdam, Persephone Abbott

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

Tagged: Amsterdam, Keith Abbott, Keith Kumasen Abbott, Narcissism, Persephone Abbott, Pilgrimage

At the Circus

Posted on March 4, 2025

“Ah,” I thought to myself, sitting comfortably in my assigned seat at Le Carré in Amsterdam. It was a very nice seat at the back of the royal “loge” section in what used to be the circus theatre. The theater is no longer the home of the circus. * A few years ago I heard Mavis Staples at Le Carré and that was an exceptional experience. I signed up for a “We Are Public” seat (a subscription service to supplement an audience when sales are poor or the venue too big and Le Carré is huge) only to be told when I showed up to collect the ticket, that all the “plonk butts in seats” tickets were taken. Quite a few disappointed and audibly…

Categories: Autism, Memory, Mindfulness

Tagged: Ariadne auf Naxos, Autism, Persephone Abbott, Strauss, Zerbinetta

After the Diagnosis: Part Ten

Posted on February 23, 2025

She was a professional and trying to find something to engage me. Something to do with autism that maybe I could elaborate on since I had, in the midst of the ongoing family trauma, indicated to my doctor my suspicion that I could possibly be autistic. The psychologist and I were facing each other in the basement of my GP’s office. The basement was the lower level of an 18th century canal house in the middle of Amsterdam and the young woman was a psychologist specialized in addiction. I was a mess, but not an addict. She asked whether I had any special interests. * Despite the tears and exhaustion, I perked right up. I could tell her about my soap collection. Since she…