Category Archives: Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

The Goddess

Imbolc                                                                               New Maiden Moon

The goddess has moved back into her maiden form, having left the crone behind at Imbolc. She will remain a maid until Beltane when the earth becomes fecund. We are once again in the time of new beginnings, the temperate zones of mother earth readying themselves for a new growing season. This is a time to consider pruning those branches of your life that have died or no longer have the sort of energy you want to encourage.

While the antiquity of the triple goddess concept may be questioned, its archetypal power has moved it into a central position among contemporary pagans. Related both to the seasons of the year and the phases of the moon, the shifting from maiden to mother to crone offers us a regular opportunity to examine our life as a cyclical phenomenon of innocence, achievement and the gathering of wisdom.

 

 

The Sleep Tour: Hand Helds

Imbolc                                                                      New Maiden Moon

The post below introduces the MIA as a place I go to distract my monkey mind, to sooth myself as I try to sleep. It doesn’t sound like it should help, I know, but it does. Over various times through the collection, diverse sets of objects have presented themselves to me. This first set was a surprise, as they would not have been objects I would have used all together on a tour. I imagine that’s why they work for me. There are others and we’ll get to those eventually.

This first sleep tour emphasizes objects that would be satisfying to hold, that express their beauty through shape and material, through the finish applied. As I drift off to sleep, I imagine these objects in my hands.

 

The first object, the one that started this set, gave it a theme, is this bowl. Over 6,500 years old it comes from the Yang shao culture along the Yellow River in what is now China. The theme here is sensual, beauty of form, grace, objects that would please the hand as well as the eye. I imagine holding it, tracing its edges and its sides. I imagine it filled with corn or grapes or berries. Mostly I see it as a pleasing shape, something of the earth that gets its beauty from the clay and its maker’s skill.

bowl650

This tea cup comes from the Song Dynasty, the 12th or 13th century. It has long been my favorite object in the entire collection. “In the heat of the kiln, the natural chemicals in the leaf react with the glaze, rendering it nearly transparent.” Its aesthetic drew me in before I knew its origin. When I learned that these were favorites of Chan Buddhist monks, a movement peculiar to China that combined Taoist and Buddhist thought, it was a clue to me about my own reimagining project. Chan Buddhism became Zen when Japanese monks came to China in the 12th century and learned both about Chan Buddhism and tea drinking to stay awake during long meditation sessions.Tea Leaf tea bowl Song DynastyThis Olmec mask is 3,000 years old. The outline of a were jaguar in cinnabar lines covers the face carved from jadeite. It was once owned by the movie director John Huston.
olmec Mask

The oldest object in the museum’s collection, this image of a fertile woman, commonly called a venus figurine, has a creation date between 201 and 200 BCE, over 20,000 years ago. What I’ve always found remarkable about this object is how easy it is to tell what the artist made. We may not know precisely what it means, but that this is an image of a human woman transcends the thousands of years from its making.

Venus figurine

A Cyladic figure from either Naxos or Keros, two of the Cyclades’ Islands in the Aegean, this sculpture dates from 2,300 to 2,400 BCE. Maybe 4,400 years old. These abstract pieces share with the Venus figurine an instantly recognizable female form rendered in minimalist presentation.
cycladic figure

This birdstone was an object featured in a native American exhibition several years ago. It is an atlatl, a spear thrower. It comes from the Mississippian culture somewhere between the 26th and 25th centuries BCE.

birdstone

Corinthian helmet from 540 BCE. An elegant way to go to war, especially with the eyebrows. Seemed like it would be hot. Maybe pretty uncomfortable to wear, but that’s fashion.

corinthian helmet

Each of these are of a handheld scale, making them perfect as talismans for Morpheus. As I go through them, counting 1,2,3,4 and 5,6,7,8, they place me in a positive environment, occupy my senses and connect me to ancient artists.

 

Sabbath

Imbolc                                                                          Valentine Moon

Sunday’s occupy a different reality. Time slows down. Ambition flees. A good thing. In spite of my now long absence from the Christian faith the notion of a Sabbath, lifted from Judaism, has always appealed to me.  A seventh day when God rests. And us, too.

The notion of a divine creator soothing the chaos before speaking the world into being has faded from my belief system. The idea, however, of a time for setting aside work, domestic and otherwise for a reflective day every week still makes sense to me.

The sabbath can be seen as a form of radical hospitality for the self, a day when shaping our lives to the demands of others gives way. On a sabbath we could read, view art, listen to music, cook, play games, visit family.  The third phase of life, after we have set aside work and at home parenting, can be a sabbath phase, much like the last of the four Hindu life stages.

Something to consider.

 

 

Urban Art

Imbolc                                                                              Valentine Moon

Cities. In 2008 a global threshold found over 50% of the population in cities, a percentage calculated to be 70% by 2050. Cities have many charms, their bulging populations are testimony to that. I found an artful charm in Denver last night.

The Rocky Mountain Land Library had a pop-up evening at the Denver Architectural Collaborative on Santa Fe. The Collaborative is in in the middle of the Santa Fe Drive Arts District which holds, on the first Friday of every month, a gallery crawl. Last night was the first Friday.

So, while discovering what the Library planned for its Hartsel location in South Park, I also had the opportunity to experience the first Friday event. While the Library’s exhibits, books and people were interesting, the galleries and people and food trucks were exciting. As often happens, the temperature in Denver was higher than ours at home, 57 degrees to 35, so the night was warm, filled with people wandering from gallery to gallery.

 

The district runs for five blocks or so. There are museums like the Museo de Las Americas and Denver University’s Center for the Visual Arts, many galleries with a wide range of art, artist’s studios, funky restaurants and best of all food trucks with a wide variety of fare. Last night there were gyros, wild game burgers and steaks, barbecue, Mexican among many others. The crowd was mostly young, the fabled millennials of Denver out on the prowl.

This place made me feel alive, at home.  These are my people and there are a lot of them.

A Secular Saint

Imbolc                                                                         Valentine Moon

Kepler, Gertie, Vega
Kepler, Gertie, Vega

Miss Vega has gotten friskier, happier. She’s receiving home injections of the antibiotic necessary to combat the rogue e-coli infection. We may be on the upward slope of recovery now.

Kepler went over to Bailey yesterday. Award Winning Pet Grooming defurs him. The owner, who has Ayn Rand quotes posted on the counter, said they’d had lots of dogs in with blown coats. We’ve had cold weather then unseasonably warm weather. Twice. Good for dog groomers.

Amanda, the groomer who cares for our dogs, and I got into a conversation about Vega and her amputation. She said dogs were amazing; they go on unfazed, living their life. We both remarked that dogs make us better humans. She then said, casually, something that revealed her to be a secular saint, at least in my non-dogmatic (haha, dogmatic!) canonization process.

After remarking about how they go on unfazed, Amanda said that she used to go to the local shelters and adopt old dogs so they wouldn’t have to die alone. The last one she adopted, a pit bull, had three legs. Not sure why she stopped, but that she did it at all, that she thought of it even, impressed me, made me think of the legions of kind persons out there.

Amanda will be in my gratefuls tonight.

A Microcosm

Imbolc                                                                               Valentine Moon

Kona
Kona

As you might imagine, dogs have been on my mind a lot this last week. Because we’ve had multiple dogs all of our marriage, and many of those were of the short-lived Irish Wolfhound breed, we’ve experienced the puppy hood and adult lives of 17 dogs. Each dog was unique, an individual in every sense. Each one of them, too, enriched our lives as companions, as fellow travelers on the ancientrail of life. At the same time, as I wrote a few weeks back, they also had (and have) their own lives, lived in the woods, wandering our property and following whatever doggy instincts and choices drive them.

Thinking about this, about the absolute value of each dog, a value not reducible to species, breed, position in our pack, or by our affections for them, I realized that their lives, though shorter than ours, had much in common with us. When our dogs die, that absolute value which existed during their lifetime lives on in our memories and perhaps the memories of friends and family. But, when we die and those who knew them die, their presence, their existence will die out, too.

Hilo
Hilo

This is the same notion as the second death which occurs for each of us when the last person who remembers us or has memory of us dies. The highest percentage of human beings, no matter their level of accomplishment or the meanness of their daily life, wink in and out of existence in the same way as our dogs. A percentage so small as to be negligible remains behind in history books, in their art, in noble works, in architecture or political achievement.

So, the dogs we have loved and with whom we have lived, are a microcosm of the human experience. Their existence matters and mattered, not because of something they did or did not do, but because they were and were in relationship with us and other members of the pack of their time. In my opinion this is a very positive view of both canine and human life. It is the living, the being alive and in relationship that matters most, not the degree or the wealth or the works.

saying your gratefuls

Imbolc                                                                                 Valentine Moon

“Every evening, Ralph and I say our Gratefuls: it’s like praying, but less formal. His are simple: Mae Mae, Opa, Grumpy, Papa, The Condo (Kim, he loves your condo, you know that), and Eliza, his best daycare friend even though she stepped on his toe with her little high heels.

Today I did the same thing, because I have been feeling down, and the list was so long it took up many, many pages and I felt that heaviness lift a little bit.”  from a facebook post

In my reimagining faith project I plan a chapter or two on ritual. Without some rituals, some ways of embedding the newly imagined faith in daily life, it will wither, become solely an intellectual enterprise and fail.

This idea of saying your gratefuls, I love it. It will get included.

As Leaves From A Tree

Imbolc                                                                                 Valentine Moon

“We do not “come into” this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean “waves,” the universe “peoples.” Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals. Even those who know it to be true in theory do not sense or feel it, but continue to be aware of themselves as isolated “egos” inside bags of skin.”

~Alan Watts