Ever since I started this blog, and made brief mention of the fact that I volunteered at Odiyan, I have received numerous inquiries about it. Often times it takes me much too long to reply to these, in large part due to the subject requiring a more in-depth response.

So I decided to post a "frequently asked questions" about Odiyan which will hopefully make it easier for those interested to get the information they want, while giving me a little fewer writing assignments in the future. Not that I don't like writing about Odiyan, but I don't always have the time that I feel these types of inquiries deserve.

If you do not find your question answered, feel free to post a comment here and I will update this post as new information is requested. For the official Odiyan website please go to www.odiyan.org, or you can also find them on myspace here. Please be advised that some information on the Odiyan website is not up to date.


Did you volunteer at Odiyan?

Yes, I did spend six months at Odiyan. I actually stayed from January to July of 2006. It was quite the experience. I don't know whether you have contacted them yet, but they can certainly send you a basic info packet about the whole thing. At this time, they are still accepting volunteers.


How many people live and work at Odiyan?

This tends to vary, but on average it tends to be around fifty people. This number is primarily comprised of volunteers.


Are there people who live and study at Odiyan full-time?

Yes. There are a number of residents who have been there since the beginning of Odiyan, which means that they have been there for over thirty years. So you have your long term residents, and then you have your younger residents who have been there only a few years at most, and often times less than a year.


How do you get into Odiyan?

It is mostly closed to everyone outside of Odiyan, with a few exceptions. Every once in a while they will invite groups from other Nyingma Organizations, such as those working on the Yeshe De project in Berkeley. Odiyan is not, however, open to the public. There is no indication of this policy changing, so the only way to get in is to become a volunteer.


Why is it closed to visitors?

That is a subject of some debate I suppose. Tarthang Tulku, the founder of Odiyan, has his reasons. The Senior Sangha, the long term residents, sometimes have more strict views of not wanting outsiders to somehow negatively impact the community. There does not seem to be a consensus on this matter, however. In either case, they are very specific in who they choose to accept as volunteers.


Is Odiyan still under construction?

Odiyan has been under construction since it's beginning before 1970. Since then they have built the main temple and the rim structure around it, the stupa, Vajra temple, some other buildings, and now Cintamani temple. They will also be building a complex around what was know as "the German Bell." Though the new name for that is, if I recall correctly, Viratsana Gardens (sp?). The state of construction at Odiyan is essentially indefinite. There will undoubtedly always be additional projects going on.


What is the daily routine there?

Being at Odiyan means you learn how to work. Really. So be prepared for that. Breakfast starts at 6 am, and work begins at 7 am. You take one break around 9:30 am, and then go to lunch at noon, which lasts one hour. So you're back at work at 1 pm. Your next break comes around 3 or 4 pm, I can't quite remember which. The work day ends at 7 pm, and dinner is served at 8 pm. You eat, and you generally go right to bed.

This goes on for 6.5 days a week, unless you voluntarily choose to help with additional tasks on Sunday. There are a select few holidays where you don't have to work, such as the Tibetan New Year's celebration in the Spring. However, once you become accustomed to this routine, it becomes second nature and comes much easier than you might expect.


What was it like?

My experience there, as many people's, was somewhat mixed. It was not an easy time to be sure, but a very fruitful one nonetheless. When it comes down to it, it's a lot of work but that isn't the difficult part at all. The hardest part of the experience is your self, or your mind.

That may sound strange, and I don't know how familiar you are with Buddhism, but I believe you'll find mostly anyone who's been there telling you the same thing. In other words, whatever physical challenges you might face are much easier to overcome than the challenge of "getting over yourself."

Sorry if this all sounds too cryptic, but Odiyan is not merely a physical experience. It is very much a mental, and even a spiritual experience. The result of how good or bad of one it is, depends entirely on how open you will be to receive what you are presented with. If you can maintain a state of non-judgment throughout the whole term, you will have a wonderful time. Yet that is hard for most, and it was for me. Eventually the mind wants to cut in, and remind you of what you may or may not like, and begins to judge what lies before you. That's when things get tough.

For me, the first three months were great, filled with wonder and learning. They went by all too quickly it seemed. Then, somewhere in the middle things changed. I grew less satisfied, and found the last three months at Odiyan to be rather challenging. They seemed to take a long time, and I was looking forward to leaving again. As far as I understand it, this is not atypical, but it all depends on you in the end.


What is the purpose of Odiyan?

The multiple purposes of Odiyan are as follows. It is used as a repository for Tibetan texts and art, with endeavors to continually archive those materials. It is also intended as a place for its residents to practice the spirit of Buddhism in action through the Skillful Means method.

The less tangible purpose of Odiyan is to generate positive energy for all of the world. This is of course debatable depending on your position, but the entire site is designed as a life-size mandala. The completion of Cintamani temple is the final project which will make the mandala whole and thus activate it. This will amplify the generation of positive energy therein.

Of course, I am certain that things get a little more complex after that, though that is probably beyond my understanding, and beyond the understanding of most.


So is it really awesome, or just too good to be true?

All in all, it sounds like a great place. Though whether you will find it as such depends entirely on you. Even after thirty years of life in this community, the people who run the place are still just that: people. And that is often forgotten I think. In my experience, there is a rift between the older residents and the newer residents. And being at Odiyan can become a difficult thing when you cannot establish a support structure. Yet those difficulties arise not as a result of anything that has to do with the work, the conditions, or your physical state for the most part.


Disclaimer: These statements are my own, and I am not officially affiliated with Odiyan or any of the Nyingma organizations. Information presented here may not reflect the views or policies of Odiyan or the Nyingma organizations.

One of the wonderful gifts we received for Christmas--yes I'm still talking about stuff from three months ago--was a copy of Satoshi Kon's new film Paprika. His previous works include the disturbing Perfect Blue, the wonderful Millennium Actress, and the moving Tokyo Godfathers. Yet in Paprika he takes on a different role by creating a film whose script is more fully based on a pre-existing story, by the same name, originally written by Yasutaka Tsutsui.



I probably don't need to get into the flawlessness of the animation in Paprika. The work really is quite exquisite, and serves as a testament to the high level of quality that anime has reached. The plot line is strong, though I wouldn't necessarily say that it was as powerful as Millennium Actress' perhaps. The whole thing has this sort of element of being a bit playful, even when things get serious. Paprika's character serves to keep it light with her, shall we say, spicy attitude? Bad puns aside, there is really never a strong sense that things are going to go awry, even when they are.

In essence, the surreal nature of dream scenes within the film makes the whole experience feel a bit dream-like. You just never get your emotions wrapped up enough to get you riled up. It lacks the paranoia of Lain, and never gets as gut-wrenching as Evangelion, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Niea_7 had one of the most mellow stories in anime history, and it was a refreshing and relaxing experience. Paprika doesn't quite go to that extreme of nonchalance, yet it remains light-hearted enough to have fulfilled its mission.



That mission, in so far as I understand it, was to portray different realities based on our dreams, and then subject them to an intertwining roller-coaster ride. The result can be somewhat mind-numbing, expressed aptly by the character of Toratarō Shima while being dragged on that parade. Still, while Paprika manages to approach these various boundaries, and perhaps even nudge them a little, it never goes overboard. It remains a joy to behold, a visual feast continually surprising, and reels you in with traditionally Japanese melodies that have been synthesized and vocoded to yield some contemporary ear-candy.

Satoshi Kon likes to play with the audience's perception of events and time-lines. That much has become obvious from his first Perfect Blue. In Paprika, he seems to have reached a superb level of finesse in this arena, while still keeping the viewer from being turned off. So what does all of this amount to? Well if you haven't guessed it by now, it amounts to the fact that you have got to see Paprika. And then go see the rest of his films!

The February 2008 issue of ARTnews came in the mail with a cover that was instantly recognizable. A Second Life avatar leaning into the headline "The Newest New Media." Underneath it, the address sticker and the hand written phrase. "horrible cover--worst ever."

I admit that those words had me more than a little irritated, but I don't intend to rant about that. Instead, I tried to think about whether it in fact is a bad cover. Is the low polygon count of the figure that jarring? Or perhaps the lack of any reference point in the background that caused this unpleasant reception? Personally I find neither aspect to be problematic, and this leads me back to my first thoughts on the matter.

Finding fault with an image from Second Life can only be attributed, in this case at least, to a lack of familiarity with the medium. The artists described in the article are all too accustomed to working with technology. Their creations are on the cutting edge of the avant-garde, employing internet media and communications which result in some fascinating artwork. Yet it seems that much of the populace is less than understanding of this approach. The article even admits that,

"Museums are still very much behind in terms of showing this work," says Paul. She points out that museums are either wary of in-gallery, tech-based interactivity or simply lack the staff and the infrastructure to mount and support such works. Difficulties can arise simply in getting museum IT departments and curatorial staff to work together.

I would consider it lucky if a museum actually has an IT department. Smaller museums can't afford dedicated staff for anything tech related, much less an entire department. So if these types of problems are recurrent in museums, it's not surprising that small private galleries would view this type of art with skepticism, to say nothing of individuals.

It's unfortunate that there is always a lack of tolerance towards those who try to push the envelope, but such resistance I must allow to be inevitable on account of the subject's very nature. On the other hand, my guess would be that anyone who has ever created a 3D model, or just played Second Life, would be much less critical of this cover.

In the end, as almost always it seems, the problem is ignorance. Equally as prevalent an antidote to this, and here again, is education on the matter. I am always curious to learn new things, and believe that most people are as well. I try to treat them as such, and will continue to speak in favor of tolerance towards art and artistic methods even when they are little understood.

At last my new paintings from the Caffé Phoenix show are up. You can find them over at michalwisniowski.com in the painting section. Also up are a whole slew of my graphic design images there in the digital section of the site. Just put it all up this morning!