Fated?

Beltane                                                         Beltane Moon

“Life’s single lesson: that there is more accident to it than a man (sic) can ever admit to in a lifetime and stay sane.”

Thomas Pynchon

In a sense, of course, the fates represent the exact opposite of the Pynchon quote.  That is, nothing happens by accident; perhaps they are the ancient and  mythic equivalent of the strange folks in cognitive science these days who say we have no free will.

On the other hand, all those accidents looked at retrospectively can have a fated feel.  What Pynchon does is remind us of the true randomness of events that in the rear view mirror seem to have happened with sequential causation.

Caprice might seem to have a chilling affect on the notion of a life, especially a life lived with purpose, according to a plan, headed toward a goal.  Yet.  It could free us from the burden of pressing our life forward, having to be at the wheel every moment attentive to the other drivers, no nodding off.

The old theological joke, which I never liked, is, “Man plans; God laughs.”  Take God out of the equation and we can see what is meant.  Life has too many unforseens, too many dips and twists, too many accidents.

Does this mean we shouldn’t plan?  I suppose not, but it does suggest a realistic humility about accounting for all the variables ahead.

Thinking About The Sports Show

Beltane                                                                 Beltane Moon

Bees in the am.  Art in the pm.  Part of a small group of docents:  Allison, Jane, Wendy, Ginny, Carreen and myself (all class of 2005) who visited with David Little for an hour or so about the Sports Show.

This particular group is not shy in presenting their perspectives, so it was a lively time.  Carreen observed that many, most, take photographs for granted, as images that come into being perhaps with no intervening action, like parthenogenesis.  It’s important, then, that their be guides, docents, to help tease out the work of photography, to appreciate the choices made and the quality of the image achieved.

Allison brought us all together and offered stories of her tours like the guy who pointed out his company’s box seats visible on the first ever cover of Sports Illustrated.  Jane remembered a woman at the YA Tittle photograph who said, “Oh.  Big John! I delivered mail to him for ten years.”

Ginny talked about the OJ piece, how much she enjoyed showing it and the controversy it engendered.  I’m not remembering right now what Wendy said, but it will reappear at some point.

That this is an MIA mounted exhibition is important to the museum’s overall visibility, especially among other museums.  It’s content and it’s catalog should keep it in the public eye a long while, perhaps even increasing its visibility as time goes on.

The p.r., which included Time Magazine with single issue sales around 28000000 and TV exposure on all broadcast channels here and even more uniquely on their sports shows, also broadened the reach of the museum as a cultural institution in the nation.

Having a sit down with a curator after a show has never happened in my time at the museum and I feel confident it never happened before my time either.  Allison just asked.  It was a privilege to peak behind the scenes of curatorial thinking about an exhibition.  And fun, too.

 

Artemis Hives: Year IV

Beltane                                                            Beltane Moon

Bees have begun to add brood, the northern colony a bit faster than the southern.  I noticed today that some of the bees have very small eyes relative to the others, I imagine these are nursery bees, 1-14 days old.  They perform caretaking functions for the larvae.

As a result of last year’s hair raising end, I’m much more deliberate in all phases of approaching the colonies:  smoke, veil, gloves, smooth slow movements.

This year I notice I’m taking more time to observe.  Today I noticed two bees head to head flicking their antennae back and forth.  I noticed another fanning its wings, cooling down the hive.  Many had their head entirely in the cells, butts sticking up, wiggling and moving to the side as other workers passed their spots. The queens still prove elusive.  Someday I’m going to learn how to find them.

One patch of laid down brood is so beautiful, the foundation is a faint yellow and the caps are tan, held up with the sun at the back the incubating cells glow.  Returning workers with pollen and nectar add to the colonies’ stores, half filled yellow cells for pollen, shimmering honey in others.

This year the whole process seems more peaceful, less fraught.  The fourth year round so I’ve learned a few things, am not so anxious.  Now I can take in the wonder of the hive. Perhaps this year I’ll learn more about the bees themselves, read some of the books I purchased.