Practical Paranoia

20  bar falls 30.52  1mph ESE  windchill 19  Samhain

Last Quarter of the Dark Moon

Second graders from a dual-language immersion school trailed after me through the museum.  We went up on the elevator, always a hit and proceeded once on the third floor to Tanguy.   Sophia, or was it Sarah, said, “It looks like the artist created a bunch of shapes so we could figure out what was there.”  Reasonable working definition of surrealism.

At Ensor’s Intrigue we found a face on the painting that I’d never noticed, a face in the lower right hand corner.  Here the kids expressed concern about the baby slipping, “She’s not holding the baby very well, and the other people are yelling at her.”  Since this was a Spanish immersion school and since it was mid-November, the somewhat festive atmosphere and skeletons lead to a consensus:  Day of the Dead.

At Dr. Arrieta, Jared, a small Mexican boy who spoke no English proudly read out the Spanish language inscription.  In this case the group decided Goya was a woman who looked old because she had gray hair and wrinkles.  At they didn’t say, really old.

We were done after three pieces, but Kyle noticed Theseus and the Centaur, so we looked at it.  Camryn, who requires hearing augmentation (I wore a receiver/transmitter so she could hear me.), made this observation, “He’s trying to kill him because humans are not supposed to have horses legs.”

As I left, Virylena, a sweet faced Mayan girl, said, “Wait. We don’t know the way out.”

The teacher, however, assured her that she knew the way out.

paranoia400.gifAfter the tour I waited in the coffee shop for Mike Elko.   He had an exhibit in the Minnesota Artists Exhibition space a month or so ago.  I bought a digital print of one of his pieces.

We talked art for a while. He believes prints, and art in general, should be simple to read and grasp.  His work all has humor in it.  He showed Careen Heegard and me some pieces from an upcoming show at the HighPoint Print co-op.  He has taken pictures from old school dictionaries, like a bantam rooster and put a saddle on the rooster, complete with a child in riding gear ready to mount.

I’m tempted to hang a sign under this piece once I get it framed that will read:  Never Again.  This period in our political history and in particular this aspect of it, the demagogic fear mongering, has weakened our democracy and attenuated our freedoms.

Stories Told By Mother Earth

9!  bar steady 30.57  2mph WNW  windchill 9  Samhain

Last Quarter of the Dark Moon

“Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?” – T. S. Eliot

When I ponder the amount of life I give to considering my weight, I wonder what Life I lose in obsessing.   Fat or thin we all die.  There may be a difference in quantity, may be, but what of the quality?  The constant examination of ourselves and our bodies for signs of health (ok, my constant examination) may be just a shadowed manifestation of the fear of death.  How will our world’s end?  Not with a bang, but a whimper

We live in an age awash in information and too few of us take the time to shape the information into knowledge, the useful form of information.  Even fewer of us take the knowledge we have earned, then sit with it in patience and compassion long enough to gain wisdom.

Here’s to a world where the most accessible wisdom, the stories told by mother earth right outside wherever you are, return gently to us.