Help!

Spring                                                                             Planting Moon

Kona will have her tumor removed tomorrow.  Roger Barr, our vet, says it is cancerous, which surprised me because she’s been so sturdy and active in spite of the tumor.  A chest x-ray though showed no metastases, a good thing.  We’ve opted to remove though the emergency vet bill and the removal costs will debulk our capital reserves.  Which means we’ll have to find a way to build them back up again.

After our appointment with Dr. Barr, I tried to lift Kona up into the Rav4.  Usually, no problem.  I can lift her 40 pounds. However.  Last week I wrenched my back cleaning out the bee hives in readiness for the new package, which I will pick up today.  As I struggled with what would have been an easy task, a woman came along and asked me if I needed help, “Yes.  I do.”

Between us we got Kona up on the blanket in the back.

“Her and me, we’re doing it together.” I said, nodding toward Kona, “Thanks.”

“Bless you,” she said.

I recount this conversation because it reminded me of a third phase thought.  A thought important for an all men’s group like the Woollies.  We must learn how to recognize when we need help, how to ask for it and how to graciously receive it.  It’s not easy for me to ask for help and I imagine many of us are the same.  As we age, infirmity and illness will increase the probability, the likelihood that we will need the help of others.  Fellow Woollies.  Family.  Other friends.  Medical professionals and home health care assistants.

Niicugni

Spring                                                                           Planting Moon

 

Still thinking about the performance last night.  The direct to the emotions connection with movement.  And the book  Where the Heart Beats: John Cage, Zen Buddhism, and the Inner Life of Artists.  In this book the author discusses the dynamic interaction between Cage’s elevation of sound, all sound, to music or at least potentially musical and the thoughts of choreographer/dancer Merce Cunningham who saw movement, all movement, as dance, or at least potentially dance.

In particular Cage wanted to decouple music from dance so that dance did not interpret music and music did not happen as background for dance.  This lead them to have concerts where music would happen, then dance, then music, then dance.  And, the music might be banging pots, someone reading the New York Times want ads or the scrape of a chair on the floor while the dance might be walking, running, jumping, embracing.

Last night I followed the movement of salmon upstream as Emily and Aretha lay on the floor and made sinuous, flowing motions with their whole bodies.  I cheered in my heart when they threw up their arms, cringed when they showed snarling faces and hoped when they shed their skins.

These links between their movement and my heart happened because my body felt their movements, all those mirror neurons firing, firing, firing sending me a message not from the dancers, but from my own body as stimulated by them.  This is not intellectual processing at all.  It’s kinesthetic.  By embracing silence throughout the work except in very episodic short monologues Emily’s work created niicugni, her people’s (Yu’pik) word for Pay Attention, Listen.

This work had great coherence with the lighting provided by the fish-skin lanterns, created in the traditional Yu’pik manner.  In a masterful lighting design the lanterns flickered, came on and off, featured this part of the stage or that through being hung at varying heights and lit separately.

Emily has topics in the first two elements of her trilogy that are close to my heart:  home and the land.  What is home?  Where is home?  Why is home?  Can we have more than one home?  Do we have more than one home?  How much relationship does home have to the land?

Land.  Mother earth or grandmother earth.  That without which we do not survive.  The womb from which we are born and the grave to which we return.  How do we remember the land?  Honor her lifegiving powers?  What does it mean to be connected to the land?

These are essential question, never minor or subsidiary, but at the heart of each persons, each animals, each plants life and its living.  It is a canard I know, but modern civilization does distance us from the idea of home and especially from the land itself.  It is always there, supporting us, feeding us, connecting us but so often we assume it, ignore it, abuse it, poison it.

Emily’s work is important.  Thanks Allison for introducing me to it.

 

Spring                                                                           Planting Moon

Kona.  Is much better.  She goes in at 9:40 to see her regular vet, Roger Barr and see what needs to happen next.  Anti-biotics, I’m sure.  We’ll also talk about decreasing the size of the tumor on her shoulder, which has imbalanced her when she runs.  It was this tumor that got infected.

 

Fish Skin Lanterns

Spring                                                                       Planting Moon

Kona’s temp is down and she’s resting comfortably.  I’ll pick her up in the am.

Went over to Cecil’s Deli in St. Paul for dinner with Joy and Ginny, two docent friends.  That was fun. Cecil’s is an old Highland Park hangout from our days on Edgcumbe.  It’s an authentic Jewish Deli and always a fun place to eat.  I had a pastrami omelette.

After the dinner, we went over to O’Shaugnessy on the University of St. Catherine’s campus to see Emily Johnson and her collaborators perform Niicugni. Niicugni is a Yu’pik word meaning Pay Attention, Listen.

This is the second part of a trilogy, the first one focused on home, what it is, how we know it and experience it.  This performance focuses on the land and our always relationship to it, yet how we can become distanced from it so easily.  Reminds me of the quotes I posted from Chief Luther Standing Bear just below.

Emily and her co-dancer and collaborator, Aretha, (one of 5 members of Catalyst) tried to imagine how they could be in two places at once on the land.  Much of the movement in the performance grew from improvisation based on that idea.  The idea behind it, the intention of the piece, was to memorialize the fact that at any one point in time the land beneath our feet is connected to some other land, all other land, yes, but in particular land that may hold special meaning for us, like home if we are not at home.

Much of the work had little to no narrative line and included collaborators from three groups:  urban farmers, (I forget right now.) and people who learned the Yu’pik art of fish lantern creation.

Allison, also a docent friend and a dancer, learned how to sew the fish skin lantern and made one that hung in the lobby of the auditorium.  Many of the some 50 fish skin lanterns were the main lighting for the entire hour long performance.  Salmon are a primary food source for the Yu’pik in Alaska, Emily’s people and her home.  To make the fish skin lanterns the sewers skin the fish, then scrape all that could rot off, a process that can take up to 16 hours for each skin and four are used in the making of the lanterns.  So, a lot of work and work related directly to living from mother earth.

The intriguing part of the performance with the collaborators from the three different groups is that she gathers different groups together each place she performs the piece and choreographs their involvement so it integrates with her work.

In case you’re interested here’s a video on making fish-skin lanterns.

Emily Johnson Makes a Fish Skin Lantern from Emily Johnson on Vimeo.

Kona

Spring                                                                                    Planting Moon

Had to take Kona to the emergency vet.  She had a high temp, the result of an infection on a large mass on her right shoulder.  Emergency vets, like emergency rooms for people, are not cheap.  She was pretty lethargic when I drove over there.  She’s staying over night and I have to pick her up before 7:30 am.  That’s when they close.

Then I’ll have to take to her Barr’s, our regular vet.  Hopefully I can do that on Tuesday, rather than on Monday, but we’ll see.

Bees

Spring                                                                             Planting Moon

Good news.  I can pick up the bees tomorrow.  That makes today a good bit more manageable.  I’ll pick them up, go see John Desteian about getting lost on my way to seminary or college (dreams), take them home, spray them with sugar water and hive them on Tuesday when it’s warmer and not rainy.  A better deal all round.

(In case you were wondering, this is a package of bees.  A 2 pounder. You can get 3 pounders as well.  About 7,000 bees.)

Had a Skype visit with the sibs in far away places, the desert and the tropics.  Yesterday evening I sent Mary an e-mail saying yes, I could call this morning.  She had just started her day.  I read a bit, then went to bed, woke up, fed the dogs, ate breakfast, went downstairs and called her at her bedtime, 9:30 pm.  Mark was at 4:30 pm.  While I slept, both of them finished work days.  Seems strange to me even though we do it regularly.

Just to change things up a bit, it’s raining today.  Don’t want to get into a rut precipitation wise.  Should turn into snow later on though.  Global weirding.  Indeed.

She Went Over the Rivers and Through the Plains

Spring                                                                                       Planting Moon

We set our first new low temperature since 2004.  Probably another one today, too.

Kate’s been in Denver since a week ago Thursday.  Long enough time for Grandma to settle in and be part of the day-to-day.  Last week she went to Ruth’s school and ate lunch with her.  A big deal for Ruth, an even bigger deal for Grandma.

(one of the lamer attractions on the road to Denver)

She’s had 8 inches of snow.  Then quarter inch thick ice on her rental car.  Later, she picked up a bolt in the tire of her rental and had to rely on the kindness of strangers.  Has not dulled her enthusiasm although that flat tire coincided with some crankiness on the grandkids to make a not so very good, if not exactly horrible day.

For those of you who wonder, we travel independently largely because of the dogs.  It’s very expensive for both of us to travel and board the dogs.  We have a mutual travel fund, but it’s modest.

Though I would not describe us as living on a fixed income, we have much less flexibility than we did.  This is a reality for most retired folks.  (I can hear Kate.  Sell that book.)

(the trail to Denver crosses all of Nebraska)

Revision is the first order of business each day except Fridays, so I’m on it, sweetheart.  Fridays (or Thursdays) I retain for art related matters.  Ovid is in the afternoon.

Cartography and Snow

Spring                                                                                       Planting Moon

Spent the morning redrawing a map of the Winter Realm and Summer Realm on Tailte.  Tomorrow I’ll work on detailed maps of both separately, the islands and the Dark Range.  This was a constant among the beta readers and I agreed.  Doing them now will help the rewrite.

This afternoon I hit a wall on the next four verses of Book I, the Metamorphoses.  My mind seized up and would go no further.  So, I went upstairs and took videos of the dogs play in the already 5-6 inches of new snow.  And, it’s still snowing.  Supposed to get heavier over night.

Worked out, aerobic only because my back still complains from my lifting the hive box with honey on Tuesday.  I could have done without this, but I caused it so what can you do?

Sheepshead canceled.  With the snow coming down heavy now and predicted to be heavier still we decided to put it off.  It was a wise decision, but I will miss the conversation and camaraderie.   Wanted to hear what the Jesuits thought about the new pope.

 

The God of War

Spring                                                                         Planting Moon

Gun control derailed two days after the Boston bombing.  Say again?  So violence wins.  Ares is the god of our time, not Yahweh, although in a fight Yahweh never put away the slingshot.

The god of war has built temples in many places over the long centuries, here is one located in Fairfax, Virginia.  NRA HQ.

It features a headquarters range with the following offerings:

The 15-position NRA Range is open to the public and offers:

  • Shooting Events and Activities!
  • Shooting Distances up to 50 yards!
  • Automatic target retrieval system that allows the shooter to edge and face the target for time intervals programmed by the shooter!
  • Wheelchair Accessible!
  • All pistol calibers and rifle up to .460 Weatherby Magnum!
  • A professional staff of NRA Certified Range Safety Officers!

Where does the propensity for violence leave us?  It leaves us with domestic cooking utensils, producers of pot roasts and swiss steak by my mother for example, as weapons of cruel destruction, ripping body and bone apart rather than building it at the supper table.

It leaves us with the twisted irony of the United States Senate turning away minimalist gun control legislation with the taste of cordite still in the air, with shrapnel still in victim’s bodies.

Wish I could dial up Zeus and tell him to call off his boy.  Tell him to stand down.  Enough.