After the Museum Closes

Winter                                                  Moon of the Winter Solstice

Holiday outing with Anne, Kate’s sister.  We went to the MIA, tickets for the 4:00 pm terra cotta warriors.  This is the last hour of the day, the museum closing at 5:00 pm.  There were crowds downstairs in the lobby, crowds on the 2nd floor wandering through the China and Africa galleries and crowds, many people, in the exhibit itself.

(who do you suppose the gladiator finds to fight?  One of the officers in Germanicus?)

This has been a big one, passing Rembrandt apparently already, though that’s hard for me to believe.  We meandered through, looked at the wonderful gold hilted dagger and the Bo bell, the beginnings of the Qin state back in that faraway time.  Homer’s time.  A time of marauding nomads in China.  770 B.C.

As we finished the announcement came that the museum closes in 5 minutes.  Doors were shut denying access to certain galleries.  All of us herded down the main corridor, the one with Doryphoros and out, the corridors becoming empty, going into the magical space that art takes on when the viewers leave.  What is art when no sees it?  Do the terra cotta warriors fan, sit on the benches before another tiring day of educating the masses?  Does Frank blink his eyes, no doubt dry from a day holding them open.  Perhaps Picasso’s baboon takes over the place, swinging from the Calder and the Chihully and maybe opening the door of the Tatris.

We’ll never know because all the art finds its way back to its stations before the next human returns.  I could sense them getting ready, perhaps willing us all out so they could get on with their night.  The Buddha wandering over to discuss divinity with Vishnu and Shiva and Parvati.  The old sages getting up from their poses beside waterfalls and on the balconies of secluded houses, perhaps dropping into the scholar’s room for a chat, some tea.

But then again, maybe everything stays the same, static and waiting.  Would be a shame if it did.

An Instrumentalist View of Religion

Winter                                                                    Moon of the Winter Solstice

There are the beginnings of an interesting apologia for religion.  I’ve seen it many times of late, most recently in a NYT article by chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth and a member of the House of Lords, Jonathan Sacks.  His choice of references tells the tale.  He recounts how Robert Putnam, author of the influential essay “Bowling Alone” (and a Unitarian clergy btw), went on to search for the sources of social capital.  He found it in religious communities and congregations.

Sacks concludes his essay countering the oft-cited decline of religious affiliation and belief by claiming Putnam’s work finds religious organizations a necessary counter to the otherwise fragmented society of the secular individualist.  A similar note was struck in another NYT article, In a Crisis, Humanists Seem Absent.  This article takes notice of the outpouring of religious communities in the wake of the Newton tragedies and wonders where the humanists are?

Without getting into a debate about the fact that many folks who show up in traditional religious communities are in fact secular humanists I want instead to point to the instrumentalist assumption behind the article’s title.  The good religionists have shown up while the less worthy humanists are assumed to have stayed home.

What I want to highlight is how both articles point to a functional or instrumental test of religion’s value.  That is, if individualism needs countering, turn to religious communitarianism.  If a crisis occurs in the community, the religious communities show up, trumping the secular humanist, (also the individualist from Sacks article?), who apparently does not.

Both articles may well point to an existing reality, again I would challenge that they do, but that’s not the point here; however, their main argument is a curious one.  That is, religious communities are good because they a) counter the solitary turn of contemporary consumer capitalism and b) show up in times of crisis.  Let’s grant for now that these two things are the case; they still present a peculiar rationale for religious community.  It is an instrumental one.  In other words, religious communities are good (and by implication necessary) if they create a social benefit.

Here’s my point:  social benefits are side bars for religious communities which exist to promote and extend in time a particular metaphysics.  The Judaeo-Christian communities promote a monotheistic God who does real things and presides over the reality which we experience.  If you don’t believe this, you don’t belong to the community.  This metaphysical salute, or belief, or faith is necessary, the sine qua non of both Jewish and Christian religious organizations.

So, you can’t go backwards from the social benefits to the metaphysics.  Which is just what those do who promote the value of religious organizations by flagging their communitarian nature or their good works.  You have to have the metaphysics first.  In other words, the religious community that does not have its metaphysics in order is not, ipso facto, a religious community.  It’s something else.   But, if an organization with its metaphysics in place defines itself as religious, then social good is a side benefit, perhaps a valued one within the community, but very far from its primary purpose.  To argue otherwise is to take a cynical position vis a vis religion where belief becomes a stalking horse for social welfare.

 

It Was A Very Bad Year

Winter                                                                     Moon of the Winter Solstice

2012 has begun to fade into the past, most of its days now tailing off behind, most lost from memory, all passed into history.  It was, as all years are, a bad year.  The death of Regina Schmidt in September marked the first incursion of this finality into the immediate life of the Woolly Mammoths, that is, our spouses and ourselves.  While no death can be said to be bad, since death is a part and a necessary part of life, still it contains the pain of loss, the unsettling reminder that our life, too, will end and opens a hole in the social structure of family and friends.  We will miss her.

Warren and Sheryl lost, in relatively quick succession, three parents, having lost the fourth not long before these.  Sheryl’s father died first, then her mother, then Warren’s mother, then his father.  In the case of the Fairbank’s and Wolfe’s families this left both with sudden needs to reassess, reconfigure and learn how to live without their oldest generation.

Yin lost her mother, Moon, this year, too.  Moon emigrated from China with the young Yin, so they had not been apart for all those years.  The last several years Moon lived with Scott and Yin.

My cousin Leisa continues to mend from a stroke last year and Ikey, the oldest of the Keaton cousins, died this year.

Then, too, there were the guns.  The shootings.  More of the continuing madness, our embrace of the things which kill us in such senseless, brutal, unnecessary ways.  I happened to be in Colorado, staying only three miles from the Aurora theatre where movie attendees at a screening of the Dark Knight Rises were shot.  And, like you I imagine, the shootings in Newton left me weak in the knees.  Children.  Young children.

And the NRA solution?  A cruel satire, armed policemen in every school or, another alternative offered by gun rights advocates, arm teachers and principals and school psychologists.  Yes, we need more guns to prevent more gun deaths.  Can none of these guys see the serious flaw in this argument?

The country stumbled through the sort of end of the Great Recession, re-elected a middling President and saddled him with a congress unable to act.  These are not good things.

 

a failure to communicate

Winter                                                                     Moon of the Winter Solstice

How’s this for irony?  My Latin tutor, Greg, and I conduct our sessions on the phone.  Have done for three years now.  Yesterday I had read out a line from the Loeb translation of a sentence we were having trouble with and I waited.  Nothing.  That had happened before so I hung up and called him again.  His phone picked up.  I spoke.  Nothing.

Well, then, he called me on my cell phone.  The landline works better for an hour or so of tutoring, so we usually use it.  I answered.  I spoke.  Nothing.  We traded attempts back and forth until Greg sent me an e-mail.  Was my phone on mute?  No, I e-mailed him back.  Weird.

We continued for a while, then we decided to scrap the session and move into January.  He e-mailed me later and said that both his and Ana’s phone had had the same problem.  AT&T.

Anyhow this tickled my funny bone.  Trying to learn how to communicate with a long dead poet in his own language, two of us, speaking  a common language, couldn’t communicate because the technology prevented it.  When we switched to e-mail, on which we could communicate, we could not use it for continuing our communication focused on Ovid.

On My Platter

Winter                                                                      Moon of the Winter Solstice

Today is distribution day for the manuscripts of Missing.  As I said before, I have some anxiety about this, but I know that facing this anxiety and going ahead anyhow is its only solvent.  It’s exciting to me to be 65 and still have cutting edge growth on my platter.  The anxiety is merely a mental clue that this work matters to me.  A lot.

On my platter.  A cliche.  Yes.  But meaningful, as many cliches are.  Overly the last year I’ve though about my platter, just what I want to serve myself every day.  What are the main food groups in my day to day life.  Let’s assume the broad base of the food pyramid consists of family, financial matters, home, food and exercise.  This is the stuff that forms the essential nutrition.  Next up from this base level are dogs, garden, bees, Woolly Mammoths.  Friendly and interdependent relationships with other humans, animals, insects and plants.  This level provides intimate feedback on a regular basis.

Then come increasingly idiosyncratic activities:  reading, watching movies, listening to music, visiting art museums, travel.  Finally come the core activities in which I not only participate but actively create:  this blog, writing novels, translating Latin and putting together tours at the MIA.  Oh, well, the food pyramid breaks down here.  Maybe Maslow’s hierarchy does a better job at this juncture.

These last three writing, Latin and art have become the arenas in which I express the creative, generative aspects of myself, those aspects Maslow calls self-actualization.  Utilizing either the food pyramid or Maslow, engaging this work is only possible if the base, the friendly and interdependent and, too, the more solitary levels are in place and functioning.  Then the work that becomes play, the work that transcends labor can happen.

Latin, art and creative writing.   These are now the core of my work and, I think, will remain so for as long as I’m healthy.

One Person, One Dot

Winter                                                        Moon of the Winter Solstice

You can see this map in a usable form at Census Dotmap.  On it are no geographical or political objects, no boundaries no rivers no lakes.  Only one dot per person.  Just the map at this size says so many interesting things about our vast country.  A lot of open space out there to the west.

Woolly Mammoth Paul Strickland has moved to the northeastern coast of Maine, a ghostly presence on this map.  If you go to Census Dotmap and click in on Minnesota, you will find our north as empty as much of the west.

 

8 more Terra Cotta Tours to go

Winter                                                                    Moon of the Winter Solstice

Two terra cotta tours today.  Went well.  60 people on the public tour.  Quite an event moving everyone around in an already crowded exhibition.  Fun anyhow.

All my beta reader mss. are ready for distribution.  Tomorrow and Saturday I’ll mail and deliver them.  I’m asking for them back by January 31st.  A little nervous because I want honest feedback and writing is tender, at least for me.  No thick skin here.

No other way to grow, move on as a writer.  On the other side of the critique is better work and that’s where I’m headed.

The Joy Luck Club

Winter                                                              Moon of the Winter Solstice

Did you see the full moon last night with Jupiter atop it?  Here a mist clothed both in a gentle gauze.  It was a Christmas present from the universe.

Kate and I just watched the Joy Luck Club.  An old movie, yes, but a good one.  I read the novel, too, but a very long time ago.  And liked it a lot.  I remember that.

This one, like Lincoln, had me in tears at the end though for very different reasons.   The four mothers had stories of being daughters in China and raising daughters in America.  The daughters had an American heritage with the Chinese overhang effecting their lives in multiple ways, good and bad.

If you haven’t seen it and like family dramas, this is a good one.

Ugh. Latin hard.

Winter                                                                            Moon of the Winter Solstice

Ohhh.  Not exactly a headache, but a brain sensation similar to muscles after an intense workout.  Stretched to capacity.  Used. Up.  After a gnarly sentence with five phrases including 4 subjunctives, one participle and a partridge in a pear tree.  Even with all the application I could muster the middle two phrases still eluded me.  Sometimes, after this kind of experience I go back the next day and things become clearer.  I’ll try tomorrow.

Next.  An interval workout with resistance.  All of me will be stretched by the end of the day.

13 Baktun

Winter                                                               Moon of the Winter Solstice

Another take on the end of the world.  Embrace it.  A website I saw suggested that the world did end on the 22nd.  The Mayan long count, 12 Baktun*, did roll round and stop.

But.  Only to start over again.  13 Baktun started on the Winter Solstice according to the article cited below.

So, we have just begun a new cycle of 394.26 tropical years.  This Winter Solstice was closer to the millennial transition than either New Year’s or even the turn of a century.

How will your life be different in the 13th Baktun?  Like me, you’ve lived all of yours in the 12th.  Those of born before 2000 are in a unique position in that we have lived through a centennial transition, a millennial transition and now a Baktunal transition.

Of course, if you’re a die hard rationalist you’ll note that one Baktun is like any other.  Well, maybe so, but they do give us, these chronological inflection points, opportunities to look back and assess and to look forward and hope.  Not a bad thing.

Why not give it a shot?  In my case I can look back over the 65 years spent in this last Baktun, my whole life, and consider its arc.  I can look forward to spending all the remaining years of my life in the 13th Baktun.  That means my aging will occur in a brand new chunk of time.  A chunk of time that I can influence as an elder, perhaps give it a positive shove before I return my atoms to the universe.

And, yes, I also embrace the circular, never-ending, achronological great wheel in which the seasons come and go talking of Michelangelo. On the great wheel of my life I have just passed Summer’s End this year, moving into the great fallow season.  There too my task is to prepare the ground for the next spring, that spring when I am a memory.

What will you do with your next Baktun?

 

 

 

 

 

*Wikipedia.  A baktun (properly b’ak’tunEnglish pronunciation: /ˈbɑk ˌtun/[1]Mayan pronunciation: [ɓakʼ ˈtun]) is 20 katun cycles of the ancient Maya Long Count Calendar. It contains 144,000 days, equal to 394.26 tropical years. The Classic period of Maya civilization occurred during the 8th and 9th baktuns of the current calendrical cycle. The current baktun started on 13.0.0.0.0 — December 21, 2012 using the GMT correlation.