Warm

Samhain                                                             Winter Moon

Still warm from yesterday evening.  We need the small flames that friendship kindles to keep the soul from growing cold.

Tom’s other gift of holly and acorns, the Holly King and the Oak King, sits above my computer, recalling the struggle between the two over the last six months, a battle that will, starting on the Solstice bend toward the Oak King’s forces of light.

Mark’s gift of polished Woolly Mammoth tusk is up there, too, waiting inspiration.

As many of you know, I’m no longer a Christian, but I celebrate Christmas the holiday still, only now in the way we did last night, by seeing people I love.  No tree.  No gifts.  No cards. No church services. Just other humans walking this most ancientrail–life–together.

 

up north with friends

Samhain                                                                Winter Moon

Here is a northern moment.  Good friends gathered in a small room with wine and steaks and snow outside, the cold.  The Holiseason has charged the air with angels and dreidels and long nights.  Ice on the streets and roads creates the kind of gentle confusion, and sometimes not so gentle confusion, that makes driving in Holiseason different from the rest of the year.

We gathered slowly, two Woollys walked up to the bar before I got there.  Mark in his silk Chinese tie and fancy sport jacket with high points on the collar sat with Charlie H. leaning back, comfortable around alcohol, the two smiling and talking.

The Sun Room at the Nicollet Island Inn was back through a labyrinth of halls, past the bar, stuck away from the rest of the place, a private area for ten or twelve, just right for the eight of us:  Warren, Frank, Mark, Charlie H., Paul from Maine, myself, Tom and Bill.

Tom made the evening special with a gift, the meal, a gesture toward the season and toward brotherhood, appreciated by each of us.  It was that special holiday gathering, one of friends genuinely glad to see each other, to listen, to laugh.  May we have as many more ahead of us as we have behind us.

 

Lycaon

Samhain                                                               Winter Moon

Work on Ovid continues.  Here is a link to a Google Art Project gallery of works inspired by Ovid.  It is far from complete, but it does represent a beginning on an additional project related to the Metamorphoses.  I would like to find as many works as I can that relate directly to the Metamorphoses.  This is an art history project I’ve assigned to myself.

Below is the somewhat polished text that lays out the tale of Lycaon from Book I of the Metamorphoses, v.163-239.

The work is mine, the good and the flawed.  I’m still learning.

 

163 Saturn’s son looked out from the highest citadel of heaven,

164 Lamenting deeds not yet made known,

165 He recalls the foul banquets at Lycaon’s tables,

166 And in his divine heart burns a vast, fitting wrath.

167 He summons a council and the gods gathered quickly when called.

168 The way is lofty, clear in cloudless heaven,

169 The Milky Way, extraordinary in its brilliance.

170 On the Milky Way is the path to those above, the temple of Thundering Jupiter,

171 His royal home. Through folding doors

172 On the right and left, the forecourt of the noble God’s home swelled with visitors,

173 (the lesser gods live in lesser dwellings): here the mighty

174 and glorious Gods sat down their own Penates.

175 This place is, if boldness might be permitted in my expression,

176 Something I have no fear to declare the Palatine hill of great heaven.

177 When the gods above sat in that marble hall,

178 Mighty Jupiter leaned upon his ivory staff

179 And shook his terrible hair over and over again,

180 Moving the earth, the sea and the stars.

181 His face, angry, then displayed a look horrible beyond measure.

182 Alas, distressed, I was not then in control

183 Over the world. While everyone was making ready,

184 The many armed giants sought to capture heaven.

185 Although the enemy was savage, yet that war had its origin

186 only within one tribe, from within one race.

187 Now for me, Nereus surrounds the whole word with sound.

188 The mortal race must be destroyed: I swear by the river

189 Below, sinking beneath the earth into a Stygian grove!

190 Altogether better testing: but,

191 The incurable body is cut away by the sword and no part must be left intact.

192 Nymphs, fauns, satyrs dwelling in mountains and woods,

193 these are demi-gods, country divinities.

194 Because we do not yet deem them worthy of the honor of heaven,

195 We dedicated a certain place for them to dwell, we granted them the earth.

(Nymph and Fauns – Julius Kronberg)

196 Or perhaps sufficient, o high gods, they will be looked upon with trust, those demigods.

197 For me, who has the thunderbolt and who has you and who rules over you,

198 The infamous Lycaon conceived a savage ambush.

199 All the gods cried out and with burning zeal

200 Demanded extreme measures. {Thus, with impious hand he rages

201 To eliminate Caesar’s name from Roman posterity.

202 Stunned, the human race has been plunged

203 Into a great dread of ruin.

204 For you, Augustus, your pleasing devotion

205 Was not smaller than that of Jupiter’s,} who after that,

206 With voice and hand restrained the grumbling, the silence of all held.

207 The shouts subsided as the weight of Jupiter’s seriousness pressed down upon them,

208 Jupiter broke the silence by speaking again to this gathering.

209 “Certainly that one suffered punishment, you no longer need worry.

210 However, I will tell you about that crime which must be punished.

211 The infamy of this time has reached our hearing.

212 I intend to fly down from high Olympus to the earth,

213 And as a god hidden in human likeness, a wanderer.

214 It would take too long to recount crimes so great as have been reported anywhere,

215 the bad report itself bore little truth.

216 I had to cross the terrible Maneala’s, refuges of wild beasts,

217 with icy-cold Cyllene and the pine-groves of Lycaeus:

218 Hence, I enter the state of Arcadia and the inhospitable home

219 Of the tyrant, the late hour pulling forth the night.

220 I furnished signs that a god had come, and the people had begun to

221 Pray: at first Lycaon laughs at the devout prayers,

222 Soon he says “This god must be measured, a test will reveal him,

223 or he must be a mortal. The truth will not be in doubt.”

224 He had planned to destroy me

225 weighted with sleep and not expecting dark death.

226 Therefore he is not yet measured against my strength: one of the race of Molossa

227 Was put to death for an ambush, his throat opened by a sword.

228 A portion of him softens, half-dead joints in

229 Boiling water, another portion roasted by placing under the fire.

230 At the same time he put that down on the table, {with avenging fire

231 I overturned the house upon the ruler’s worthy penates.}

232 Terrified, he fled, and having reached the quiet countryside,

233 He howled and in vain he was trying to talk.

234 He was transformed into a beast by lust

235 Accustomed to slaughter, and he now rejoices in blood.

(Lycaon  Melissa Burns, 1978 The wolf-metamorphosis his glaring look remains.)

236 His clothes have changed to shaggy hair, his arms into legs:

237 He is made into a wolf but retains the human shape of his foot.

238 His gray hair is the same, as is the fierceness of his face,

239 the same glitter is in his eyes, the same shape of wildness.

Snow

Samhain                                                             Winter Moon

A gentle new snow has fallen since I got up.  It will freshen up the landscape, make it softer and whiter.   The barriers between our home and the Arctic get taken down in the winter months.  Arctic air masses plunge south, creating large swaths of blue on the weather maps.  They chill us just as they do the polar bears and lynx and wolves of the far north.

We get our largest snow amounts though when Gulf Air, moist and warm, gets sucked up north where it meets these air masses.  This union of north and south chills the rain, makes it into crystals and they tumble out of the clouds.  A snow sociologist (yes, there is such a specialty.) says that one of winter’s special characteristics comes from snow erasing clear borders, blurring boundaries between fences and open pastures, between rooflines and the ground, between road and ditch, between yard and driveway and sidewalk.

A sense of newness comes over us as summer’s sharp lines grow curves and those good fences making good neighbors become lumps under drifts.  The world made new as the snow falls and falls.

Winter Is Coming

Samhain                                                             Winter Moon

Winter Solstice.  It comes with silent steps, the moon shining through leafless trees, scattering the snow with shadows.  This is a moment between one turn and the next, a still point, a dark still point out of which will come light, enough light to thaw the ground, lure plants from beneath the earth, give them strength and plump up their fruits.  But now, this night, is the culmination of darkness coming toward us one minute at a time until we reach the longest night of the year.

This waning of the light has killed back the plants of summer, shucked the leaves off the trees, frozen the rain so it falls as snow.  This is the season that shows the other face of nature.  This is earth as a receiver of the dead, as a particle disaggregator, a rapacious devourer of life.  Earth as scavenger, cavern, dark sea bottom.  This is the earth as whole, not only giving, but also taking.

When Hades comes for Persephone, he takes life back inside the earth.  He changes her, makes her a part of his realm.  In this marriage of Hades and Persephone we see death preceding life as the Mexica poet said.

In the dark and the quiet of the Winter Solstice night we can draw near to this truth.  We can know that even our own death will do no more than take us back to the earth from which we came and that even that death will not be final as our consciousness is born anew with each birth and our physical self is born anew as plant and animal.  What more wonder do we need at this time of year, in this, the Holiseason?

(Hades and Persephone:  King and Queen of the Underworld)

Learning From Pain

Samhain                                                                     Winter Moon

Being an autodidact has its privileges.  No one interferes.  This is a big one to me.  Being an autodidact has its disadvantages.  No one tells you when you err.  Error becomes obvious in another way.

Take exercise for example.  When shifting to new routines, you have to coach yourself. The internet helps with videos, but there’s deterioration between seeing the video and actually doing it.  Mighta been those wide grip lat pull downs or the back extensions on the exercise ball.  Not sure.

But, when added to felling a couple of trees in below zero weather, the old back began to teach a lesson in something or other.  Not sure quite what yet, but I’ll be working on it over the next few days.   Absorbing lessons is part of the autodidact experience.

Glad I have Greg for the Latin.

Google Cultural Institute

Samhain                                                               Winter Moon

The links to the right provide quick access to resources that I use from time to time.  One added today is of special interest:  Google Cultural Institute.

This remarkable tool has three separate sections:  The Art Project, the World Wonders Project and the Archive Exhibitions.

Art Project

“Museums large and small, classic and modern, world-renowned and community-based from over 40 countries have contributed more than 40,000 high-resolution images of works ranging from oil on canvas to sculpture and furniture. Some paintings are available in ‘gigapixel’ format, allowing you to zoom in at brushstroke level to examine incredible detail. Use Google Street View to explore the interiors of landmarks such as the Palace of Versailles and The White House. Or, build and share your own virtual art gallery.”

World Wonders Project

“World Wonders brings modern and ancient world heritage sites online using Street View, 3D modelling and other Google technologies. Explore historic sites including Stonehenge, the archaeological areas of Pompeii and the Great Barrier Reef as if you were there. Learn about the history and background of each location with information provided through a partnership with UNESCO.”

Archive exhibitions

“Many cultural institutions have extensive archives of information, much of which cannot always be put on public display. Our partner museums and curators have created exhibitions to bring these archives to life and make them available online. Explore Historic Moments, Cultural Figures, Science & Technology, and other categories to browse through photos, videos, manuscripts and documents on a wide range of topics – from Nelson Mandela’s handwritten prison letters, to the ‘La Dolce Vita’ era in Italy.”

It’s worth visiting.

 

Samhain                                                             Winter Moon

Today is a lumberjack day.  Or, probably a lumberjack couple of hours.IMAG0746

Winter is an excellent time to work in the woods.  No bugs.  You don’t overheat.  Wood splits easily.  No leaves get in the way so drop lines are clear.  Of course, it is -3 here yet this morning. That’s a bit on the chilly side, but I’m grabbing my madbomber hat (no, seriously, that’s the brand name) and my chainsaw.  Gonna be good.

I do plan, however, to stay away from all beaver dams.

Sweet

Samhain                                                    Winter Moon

A sweet day.  Kate and I made Christmas cookies.  On my low carb eating style this is similar to an alcoholic tending bar, which does happen, but is it a good idea?

Kate picked most of the Christmas cookie recipes in the Taste section of the Star-Tribune, then made her way through them.  I used the dough she made, forming them into cookies, baking them and cooling them off.

Rigel hung out near my left hand, hoping a mistake would be made and that she would be called in for janitorial tasks.  It did happen a couple of times.

Kate is a formidable cook with lots of enthusiasm.  Working with her is like working with a good cook book.  She knows a lot and is helpful when she explains.

It would have been a good day to have grandkids closer.

 

East Meets West

Samhain                                                                Winter Moon

Another shooting in Colorado.  In a school.  In the Littleton School District, site of the 4-798D0E18-1629023-800Columbine shooting.  I was in Denver with Jon and Jen, both teachers in the Aurora School District, when the gunman shot up Batman theatergoers in Aurora.

(granddaughter Ruth at the Stock Show)

The culture of the West and the culture of the East collide with some visible force in Colorado and Denver is the epicenter.  Each January the Great Western Stock Show gathers cowboys and ranchers, rodeo queens and fancy riders, bulls and horses and cows and sheep into one place for a celebration of Denver’s central locale in the Old West.  This is a culture of hardy individualists, folks used to taking care of things on their own and not interested in citified ideas towards guns.

At the same time Denver is the business capitol of the region with shiny glass skyscrapers 4-CFBE0C9F-2317503-800and people in business suits hustling for a buck.  It’s also a major educational and health services center.  In addition thousands throng through the tented Denver Airport on their way to the ski slopes of the Rockies:  Aspen, Vail, Steamboat Springs, Breckenridge.  This is a culture more interested in public safety, clean streets and good medical care.

(Looking out from the Denver Museum of Art toward the State Capitol building)

It’s an uneasy conjunction, a mixing occurs, yes, but neither group comes away much changed from the interaction.