Colors

Colors

A Poem by Lev 2007

Scarlet is a bleeding wound,
Silver is a nice old spoon,
Brown is an old oak tree,
Red is old cherry Jelly,
Yellow is a bird's belly,
Orange is a clown that's silly
Purple ham is quite smelly,
Copper is someone's lost penny,
Black is someone's hair,
Green people really don't care
I hate colors do you too?

Jaal

A Tribute to his Brother

More of Lev's writings, songs

He was creative, but I'm not sure if these are song lyrics or written by Lev.

Father's Day 2010

Last year, on Father's Day, we were getting ready for cousin Ariel's wedding.
We staying in some cabins along the beach, and Lev had a great time hanging out with family. Jaal had just left to travel down to California with his friends. I went up to the wedding site to help get ready and Lev stayed behind with his cousins. They made Father's Day cards and drawings.
Tony and I got back from helping and we were all hungry. We had set up a buffet with sandwich makings, and Tony was getting his food. Lev had shoved a couple papers next to the garbage to the side of the table. As Tony started to get his lunch, Lev said, "Can you get that stuff for me?" Tony said, "No, can't you see my hands are full? You have to wait or get it yourself." Lev left the cabin, angry. We weren't sure where he went.
We discovered that the papers were a Father's Day card and a drawing. He was trying to make it a surprise. We couldn't find Lev, but figured he was hanging out with someone.

We ate our lunch, and then began to look for Lev. We needed to get changed and go back to the wedding site. We tried to figure out if he went with someone else, but his suit was still back in our cabin. We looked and looked. I took the road and Tony took the beach path. We were starting to get worried when Tony found Lev. He had fallen asleep on the beach. He was only 20 feet from where we had been eating lunch, but he was behind a wall and we didn't see him. He had stayed up late at a campfire the night before, and was exhausted.

Tony and Lev went back and got the Father's Day card and picture, and "made up" and had a nice walk back to the cabin to get changed for the wedding.

From Laura Goertzel

From Cousin Laura 

One lovely summer day when Lev was around 5 years old many of the
Seattle-area Goertzels met up for a walk around Greenlake.  Penn
pulled up to the designated meeting area in his brand-new electric
car.  Jaal and Lev were eager to go for a ride in it and Penn was
eager to oblige them. When they got back, they excitedly reported the
details of their trip.  "When Penn turned on his car it sounded like
this" - then Lev made a big show of firmly shutting his mouth;
indicating that the Prius was very quiet. "When Penn stopped at the
red light it sounded like this" and he again closed his mouth to
indicate that the sound was that there was no sound at all.  It was
very cute and I am reminded of this story now whenever I am driving
our Prius and think the car has stalled because it really is so quiet.

Attached are some pictures from 2006, at a family party in Woodland Park. 

the butt slide

Here is the rock, in its glory.
He really liked it there.

climbing rocks

A few weeks ago we visited a place in Roslyn where we went a few times with Jaal and Lev. We returned to a rock that was Lev's favorite because you could slide down it. There was even a butt groove in it from all the people sliding down. Lev always wanted to hike off trail and just explore rocks and things while hiking. Tony and I carved his name in the rock.

July 9th gathering

As a heads up, we are going to have a get together around 2:00 at our house for people who live nearby, and are around, on July 9th. It will be the one year Anniversary of Lev's death.
It seems like it has been such a short amount of time.

If you could email us a Lev story to add to Lev's blog that would be good. Especially for people that are further away, it would be great to get some stories. I would like to print myself a copy in book form of the life with lev blog before the 9th.

It will be a potluck, sharing stories, maybe spread some ashes somewhere.

thanks,

If you live far away, eat a slice of pie and think of Lev in your own way that day.

Cookie monster voice

Maybe some of you have listened to "death metal" or "grindcore". The singer uses a deep, unnatural "cookie monster" voice, with a thumping double bass drum and super-heavy guitar licks behind it.

Lev liked to listen to this stuff sometimes. And one day he surprised us all by doing a nearly perfect imitation of the singing, in tune and well-enunciated. We laughed our asses off. It never failed to amuse me when he did it.

Maybe he could have been the greatest grindcore singer ever :-)

Sightings

Walking the dog, I looked down the road and thought I saw Cherie, our neighbor, walking with Lev. I was momentarily relieved he was back, the confused why he would visit Cherie first, then realized it was impossible and it was actually a Latina woman with another woman and a small black dog.
Hope returns to be smashed yet again.

Four square

I was just walking by the John Stanford International School and I was reminded of how much Lev enjoyed playing four square. In Monteverde there wasn't much pavement, so he hadn't played before. He liked to play at recess in fifth grade in Seattle. After school he and I would walk back to the school and play together. He liked to change the rules sometimes. We also had a small patch of cement in our backyard and we would play at home, too. Sometimes I would let him win, but quickly we became evenly matched. Lev loved attention and playing something one on one with his parents, where he had our full attention.
This continued later, playing football and basketball with Tony. When he played with Jaal he would get competitive and argumentative, so, although the did play together a lot, it wasn't always roses- or maybe it was roses, as they are nice but have thorns.

Rebecca

Phone wall paper

This picture is the wallpaper on my phone. It is Lev. We were kayaking and we stopped at a little island. Jaal took this picture of Lev, victorious after climbing to the top. He loved to climb to the top and feel powerful.

Swords

Lev loved swords. He had a decent collection of them. We were never thrilled about his hobby, but he took good care of them and never used them unwisely, so over time we came to realize that it was okay. We were sure one day that one of his friends would rat us out and we would get a nasty call from their parents, but it never happened.

Jaal liked swords as much as Lev. This was something they bonded over. Another reason we let him collect them.

Lev also had some wooden practice swords, called Bokken. They are used for ancient Japanese sword-fighting drills. He had a book of the basic exercises. He had trouble getting motivated to do them, because it was hard to tell if he was doing it right, so I agreed to coach him. We would go outside if the weather was nice enough. I would look at the pages and have him get in the correct stance, and then I would describe the movement. He was decent enough at it, but patience was not his strong suit. He would skip some of the warm-ups, and wanted to get right to the advanced exercises. I would get a tad frustrated, since I wanted to follow the book closely, but Lev was never one to follow rules and order. No matter what, I always liked being out there with him. The wrestling, the boxing, the sword-fighting, and the boffing were things that he loved to do, and I am glad we had a chance to do them together.

Sent from Maxjournal

photo of Lev and Zay, at the continental divide in the Monteverde reserve. He had his grumpy photo face already perfected.
photo of Lev and his cousins, at Sesame Place

A story of Lev's that Zade found in his room

2. Lev: (I typed this up from a story he wrote on paper, from what I can tell the first paragraph is a rough draft and the second paragraph is a final draft, I changed nothing but putting his name on the title page and putting stars instead of letters in the words next to the title.) Rebecca thinks that Jaal might have added the comment about kicking Zay.

" Notes (kick Zay in the te***cles)

on

Chapter 1:

Memories

-Lev Mann

He slowly breathed in and then out. He could feel his pulse slowing down , the slow drip of the water down the side of the cave. The whole world slowed down and almost stopped. He tried to remember who he was. His name was on the tip of his tongue when the men appeared. They were sweating from the pores on their faces. Dressed in chain mail, there were 9 of them in all. The first one charged at him and he slowly fisted him in the gut. the man gasped for breath and dropped his sword. He grabbed the sword and kicked the man off the cliff. As the next two slowly approached he shuffled his feet forward bringing his nightarm across his face. As he brought his arm and sword down they struck against the Attackers sword and he kicked him out of the cave and on to the rocks below. The other attackers stepped backwards nervously, he slowly struck one down with a slash across the ribs. He faced another one and pulled his dagger out and slit the attackers throat. With the sounds of one of the attackers choking on his own blood behind him, he stepped forward there were only five. He backhanded one attacker across the face and penetrated straight through a lung wit his sword. Pulling his sword slowly out of the man's gut he spun around and loppedOttan approaching attackers head. He threw his dagger at another and as it spun in the air he kicked another off the cliff. the dagger connected into the attackers eye, as the last attacker stabbed him right through the shoulder. He staggered Backward into the wall. As the blood dripped down his chest his pulse sped up again and his resolve strengthened. He let loose a primal roar and lowered his head. As he approached the last attacker his steps picked up and he leapt forward and tackled the last attacker off the cliff. His mind raced as he realized he was in free-fall towards the ledge below. As his feet connected with the Rock, his legs crumpled beneath him. As he slowly fell towards the rock and his hurt shoulder hit the ledge he remembered As the pain throbbed in his arm, and he lay in a pile of dead bodies, he remembered...

He gradually breather in and out, over and over. As he meditated he could feel everything around him. He could feel the water dripping from the roof of the cave, he could feel the sweat on his brow. He was at peace, until he heard a pebble fall. To him, In his enlightened state it sounded as loud as a marching army. He opened his eyes and saw 9 men clad in dark chainmail. He rose to his feet and rushed the nearest one. As the attacker lifted his sword to strike, he hit him hard in the gut. The attacker gasped for air and dropped his sword. He picked up the sword and kicked the attacker in the gut. The man staggered back and took one of his friends with him in his mad attempt to keep from falling, as they fell to their deaths he stabbed an assailant through the chest. As the man sank to his knees, he drew a dagger from the dying man's belt and flung it towards another attacker. Then he brought his sword above his left shoulder and cleave a man in twain. The dagger connected with an attackers eye with are sounding thunk. He then stabbed another attacker in the ribs. There were only three left. He stuck his sword clear through an attackers solar plexus, where it stuck. Finding himself weaponless he kicked the nearest attacker in the groin. promptly stealing the mans weapon he slit the attackers throat. He lunged at the last attacker while the previous one was still choking on his own blood. Too late, he realized that he had overextended himself. The last attacker stabbed his sword directly through his shoulder. He stumbled into the buck wall of the cave. His Vision clouded, his pulse quickened, he let loose a primal Roar. He lowered his head and charged the man. his steps sped up and he leapt at the man and tackled him off the cliff. His legs connected with the ledge 20 feet below and he crumpled to the ground. As his shoulder collided with the Rock, he remembered lying on the ground with his arm throbbing, amidst a pile of dead and broken bodies, he remembered...

From Tim Sales, parent of a friend of Lev's

Levi's imagination was amazing! I will never forget an afternoon I spent with Levi in Monteverde. All of the kids were down on our farm, we must have hiked down there, and we were getting ready to walk back up to the Casa Nicoya where we were living. Everyone was grumbling about how they didn't want to walk, it was too far and too hard, all that typical bluster from energetic young boys that can run circles around us all. We started walking, and Lev started talking. And talking. And talking! He talked non stop the whole way up the hill, telling us a fantastical story about knights and dragons and possibly space aliens too -- I can't remember exactly, but I do remember that he had me listening and laughing and we reached our house at the top of the hill before we knew it -- Lev's story had made the trip easy and fun. Things were never dull when Levi was around, that's for sure! Except maybe when he was deep inside in a good book, and then things weren't dull, just quiet... :-)

Rebecca

rage

During his thirteenth year, I would catch Lev in the bathroom, glaring at himself in the mirror, learning to perfect his glare. He really wanted to be all powerful. At age fourteen he spent time learning to raise his eyebrows independently, and got quite good.

I found this writing about his rage, and I miss his rage, his silliness, his love and caring. I miss it all, the boy of extremes.

It is titled Rage, September 2006, from his sixth grade writing journal.

Rage
I believe that rage is the most powerful inner source in the world. By inner source I mean strength that you draw from the soul, not the body. I have worked over the years to learn to harness my rage until I burst it loose.
I believe that someone with enough rage can fight even with an arrow in the gut or a sword in the stomach. I believe that a beginner is only a rage apprentice while someone who has studied for years, like me, is a rage lord.
I can scare my fourteen year old brother with the rage of a rage lord.
I believe everything I just wrote.

(I wonder what his teacher thought of this entry. The next page of the journal has a grade, and he got full points for his amount, use, thought, and presentation, 100%. Later in the year she did give him an award for having a unique sense of humor, which I think was after he had gotten in big trouble for comparing her to a whale, without bad intentions.)

Reading through his writings is good, and feels right, but it is quite difficult. He is sorely missed. I wonder where his creative energies, rage and compassion would have led him in life. I am sorry for him and the world for our loss. He has left a hole, a grief hole, not a rage hole in me. Maybe I can harness the energy and become a grief lord. :-)

Rebecca

random things

Lev's writing: He would be happy to have this one posted, on chores and kids freedom

I think that kids should have some time to just cool down and not rush around everywhere like little scampering ants. Kids should be free and not rushed. We should be slow and calm with fun and imaginations instead of being everywhere at once. Playing, not working, running around with shouts of glee, not being forced into drudgery.

Lev's stories from sixth grade: Justificator

Justificator
SS-49 UK only Prototype

The Justificator is a
little gravitational
stabilizer that
is like a little
gyro except
using polar
magnetism and
it can
make you
impossible to
trip if it is
in your shoes
or in your
dog's collar
to make it
land right
side up or
in other
words on
your feet
and it can
make you
do a backflip.