Art and Culture, Asia

Tours

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Samhain                                    Waning Harvest Moon

So.   Two very fun tours.  The kids were great.  Excited, eager to see the next object, came prepared from their work with Mr. Bowman.  It was a treat to take them through the museum.  The interior design students and their teacher were, equally, excited and eager though in a more adult, subdued way.  We talked about wabi-sabi as an aesthetic, the tea ceremony, Taoism and Confucianism, ancestor veneration, bridle joints, huang hua li wood, Ming dynasty folding chairs and we even tacked on a sort of overview of the African galleries.  Both groups seemed happy and cheerful and I felt appreciated.  A good morning.

Now.  Tired.  Nap.

Art and Culture

Tours Today

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Samhain                                                  Waning Harvest Moon

Cooler here today.  Into the MIA this morning, then back home.  Tomorrow, more election analysis and Latin.  Over the weekend, put up hardware cloth around the fruit trees, harvest more leeks and make some more pot pies, prepare the bee colonies for winter.  Miscellaneous other matters.  Chapter 23 in Wheelock.  More Ovid.  That sort of thing.

Haven’t heard from my boy lately, but I know he’s alive because he posts to Facebook.

Art and Culture, Asia, Humanities

A Juggler of Ancient Words

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Samhain                                                 Waning Harvest Moon

Today was a glorious day with puffy clouds, clear blue sky and temps in the high 50’s.  Instead of wandering through the woods I spent it trying to get outside Ovid’s Latin.  This is fun, a lot of fun, but it takes such concentration, holding words in the mind while spinning alternative translations, alternative parts of speech, taking one and putting it on a stick, then another, on another stick, and another on the right foot, all spinning, twisting, trying to come together or crash to the floor.  That’s what it’s like for me right now. I presume at some point it becomes less arduous; it must.  A juggler of ancient words.  At least for today.

Tomorrow I’m back in a comfort zone with two Asia tours, one for 2nd and 3rd graders on a very specific mission, and a second with interior design students from the Arts Institute Internationale in Minneapolis.  I haven’t conducted tours for many kids of late; I think folks see me working with adults, with college students, that sort of thing, but I enjoy the kids, especially these ages, their energy, their enthusiasm, their fresh eyes.  With the interior design students I plan to visit all four period rooms in Japan and China, plus look at the tea wares, the Chinese furniture, in particular the folding chair and see the blown out roof technique in Japanese painting.

Art has so many facets.  It touches culture, spirituality, beauty, daring, courage, hope, despair, the full range of emotions and the most complicated of intellectual puzzles like perspective, color and form, all done in a range of materials that seems to have no point of exhaustion.  Then, add the human interaction with art, the relationship between object and viewer, and perspective becomes a prism spinning, never stopping, reflecting.

Politics

A Changed Political Terrain

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Samhain                                      Waning Harvest Moon

So.  Election day is over; the rascals have been thrown out and the new rascals will soon take their places in the halls of Congress and the Minnesota Legislature.  This is an opportunity to develop the bipartisan nature of environmental issues, since preservation and conservation are not, intrinsically, related to party.  Theodore Roosevelt, the ur-conservationist from a political perspective, was a Republican.  Economic justice issues will become more sharply defined and the outlines of a new liberal majority still remains a mystery.  Politics has one guarantee, change.

( bloodletting in politics is not new.)

I choose not  to  feel dejected, rejected or powerless in light of these results, instead those issues in which I believe need us more than ever.

On a brighter note, today I’m back to translating Ovid.  I’m 30 verses in to what I believe is about 15,000.  Almost there.

Politics

Sigh.

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Samhain                                        Waning Harvest Moon

First the Vikings, now the Democrats.  Geez.

As I said a while back, the political scene, long a part of my life, a passionate part, has begun to recede for me.  I see this by-election as a cyclical matter, not a rejection of Obama and progressive ideas, but a cry of pain from people injured the great recession.  An angry elephant has stomped through the polls this November election day, an elephant moving with great feeling, a powerful force in politics.  Yes, this will slow down Obama’s progressive agenda.  He will have to work in a more measured, less dramatic way, but, as I’ve read more than one place, that may well be to his advantage in 2012.

(I’d be happier if I watched the election returns on Ka’anapali beach.)

It is not so much a time to wonder what went wrong from a Democratic perspective, as it is a time to reconsider how communicating the gains of the past two years has fallen so far short.  It is a time to consider how to pursue the great issues yet unaddressed, like climate change and immigration, in the small ways that will lay the base for further work in the 2012 Congress.  I went into this election proud of my leftist politics and I remain so.  Over time movements toward greater equality erode the opposition, witness the number of conservative women running in this election.  Over time matters of mutual care and compassion like Social Security, Medicare and now the National Health Care legislation become new bricks in a solid foundation for all Americans, rich and poor.  The economy will right itself and the timing of recovery matters more politically than it should, because the tools used to massage the economy are gross and work only over time.

So, we’ll have to learn how to work with a whole new legislative alignment.  That’s the nature of politics.  This is still a center/right country, so we have to be glad when we have the chance to make progress, philosophical when we can’t.

Aging, Commentary on the news, Politics, US History

It’s Here! It’s Here! It’s Finally Here!

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Samhain                                    Waning Harvest Moon

Election day.  Or, as I prefer to think of it, extinguish those politicoporn commercials day.

The constant negative drone, the contention that the other person has committed some perfidy totally unexpected of a human being, let alone a politician, gets on my nerves, so, for the most part, I shut it out.  But that’s not what I mean.

What I mean is the amount of hard cash required for designing, shooting and airing political commercials.   Along with other technological expenses in the modern campaign the dollar amounts required make it inevitable that each politician, each one, Republican and Democrat, spend their incubency focusing not on policy or the politics of the day, but on fund raising.  Fund raising in amounts so large that often times they go back to the same well not just twice, but thrice.  This places every politician in Congress squarely in the sites of those who have wealth or who have become adept at bundling wealth from others for political purposes.  This is not only bad form; it is also a bad way to create a government.

Add the constant fund raising to the incessant drum beat of lobbyists and it’s no wonder our democracy–for which we want to make the whole world safe–has twitches and contortions that make professional gymnasts look clumsy and out of practice.  We are a people proud of our democracy, often hubristically so, and yet it has become a clogged artery, a broken limb, a part of our body politic that needs strong medicine and tough therapy to heal.

Our system of checks and balances has devolved into a system of halts and stops where partisan wrangling and/or ideological purity turns each place where a check might happen into a full body check against the boards and puts a thumb on the scales wherever balance must come into play.

While I’m at it, let me point out, too, a problem in our Senate.  No, not the rules, though those do need attention.  No, not Jesse Helms.  He left office.  I’m talking about representation.  Here’s what the point in a brief paragraph from Wikipedia:

“The Constitution stipulates that no constitutional amendment may be created to deprive a state of its equal suffrage in the Senate without that state’s consent. The District of Columbia and all other territories (including territories, protectorates, etc.) are not entitled to representation in either House of the Congress.[12] The United States has had 50 states since 1959, thus the Senate has had 100 senators since 1959.

The disparity between the most and least populous states has grown since the Great Compromise, which granted each state equal representation in the Senate and a minimum of three presidential Electors, regardless of population. In 1787, Virginia had roughly 10 times the population of Rhode Island, whereas today California has roughly 70 times the population of Wyoming, based on the 1790 and 2000 censuses. This means some citizens are effectively an order of magnitude better represented in the senate than than those in other states. Seats in the House of Representatives are approximately proportionate to the population of each state, reducing the disparity of representation.”

And this from a book blurb on Amazon for:  Sizing Up the Senate: The Unequal Consequences of Equal Representation–

“We take it for granted that every state has two representatives in the United States Senate. Apply the “one person, one vote” standard, however, and the Senate is the most malapportioned legislature in the democratic world.

But does it matter that California’s 32 million people have the same number of Senate votes as Wyoming’s 480,000? Frances Lee and Bruce Oppenheimer systematically show that the Senate’s unique apportionment scheme profoundly shapes legislation and representation. The size of a state’s population affects the senator-constituent relationship, fund-raising and elections, strategic behavior within the Senate, and, ultimately, policy decisions. They also show that less populous states consistently receive more federal funding than states with more people. In sum, Lee and Oppenheimer reveal that Senate apportionment leaves no aspect of the institution untouched.

This groundbreaking book raises new questions about one of the key institutions of American government and will interest anyone concerned with issues of representation.”

I mention this intriguing and disturbing analysis to underscore the problems with the amount of money it takes to win a Senate race which is, by definition, a whole state affair.  This means that money sunk into races in smaller population states can have the affect of negating changes in the House of Representatives while increasing the amounts for which the elected Senator is beholden.  This is not a recipe or a chance for corruption; it is a guarantee, a built in consequence of modern elections and an increasingly unequal Senate.

What to do?  We’ll look at that tomorrow, apres deluge.

Faith and Spirituality, Friends, Woolly Mammoths

Friends

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Samhain                                        Waning Harvest Moon

Talking with the woollies at the Black Forest.  Scott, Frank, Warren, Stefan.  Eating here at this lasting monument to Gemütlichkeit we lived it.  Sharing with each other in our cozy, intimate way, a way borne of decades now together.  My claustrophobia, anothers workshop on codependence, Frank’s tooth, Scott’s restructuring of his hours at work, Warren’s cold.  All of these and the usual commentary on the upcoming election, the Vikings and the waiver of Randy Moss.  Friends eating together, putting another layer of mortar on the linkages among us.

Yet another trip through the night from downtown Minneapolis to the exurbs, from bright lights and people jaywalking, biking, loitering to the dark drive north of Coon Creek Road, past the eutrophying Round Lake and the vast peat bog across the road from it, the basis for Field’s large truck farm.

Now home, letting the dogs out, a note here, then upstairs to read, watch TV, relax.

Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Humanities, Woolly Mammoths

The Beloved Community

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Samhain                                                   Waning Harvest Moon

Spent lunch with Leslie.  She’s progressing in her work at Groveland.  We had a very interesting conversation about a UU ecclesiology, not an easy topic since the notion loses something in importing it from Christianity.  UU’s insist on calling their congregations churches, but that is accurate only historically for almost all Midwest UU’s who are overwhelmingly humanist.  No one cares outside the UU community of course, and even most of those inside it don’t care either, except the clergy, for whom the nature of the communities they serve is all important.

Leslie began feeling her way toward an ecclesiology based on love.  It got me going, too.  There may be a way to define a humanist ecclesiology focused on something like the beloved community.  In this case congregants might gather to participate in a community where intimacy might happen, happen outside the familial or marital or partner bond.  No one has too much love in their lives and a community committed to vulnerability, safety, depth and confidentiality might increase the possibilities.  There is no need here to posit a ground for love transcendent to the community, that is, a God.  We seek and find love here in this immanent plane, mundane and profane creatures we might be, so seeking it in community is in our capacity.

I think this has real promise, might be groundbreaking.  I hope she follows through with it.

Going into the Black Forest to dine with my Woolly brothers.  Listening to a new book.

Here’s a thought about the beloved community:

“The Beloved Community has three dimensions: self-love, neighbor-love, and universal love, according to Rev. Owen-Towle. “You can’t send forth what you haven’t claimed,” he said of the importance of self-love. “What you don’t own in your own heart you can’t give away.”

Rev. Owen-Towle pointed out, however, that self-love is not sufficient. “Unitarian Universalism at its most authentic is never only about self-fulfillment – either everybody is saved or nobody is,” he said. “As UU’s we know that there lies an indisputable oneness at bottom.” We must demonstrate an alternative way of being religious, he added, in order to furnish a large, spacious household rather than a snug, comfortable collective.

Rev. Owen-Towle urged his audience to seek the challenge of the Beloved Community. “Beloved Community transcends our own convictions, ever widening its embrace to include outsiders,” he said. “It’s always bigger than the imaginable.””

General

Just Stuff

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Samhain                              Waning Harvest Moon

Hmmm.  Vikings.  Hmmm.

Off to the grocery store this morning.  A domestic weekend.  Work outside yesterday and today, inside, storing carrots in layers of hamster bedding, getting and putting away groceries, making two more leek and vegetable chicken pot pies, getting them ready for the freezer tomorrow morning.  Kate peeled beets, cleaned carrots, leeks, and onions.  She’ll pickle the beets tomorrow.

A week less busy coming up and I’m happy about that.  Some decompression time.  Plan to make four more leek and chicken pot pies, using up the last of the leeks, get back into the translation of Ovid, prep for an Asia tour on Thursday, read.  Couple of appointments, but not much else.

I did agree to door knock on Tuesday morning for the DFL, a get out the vote effort on election day.  Most of me doesn’t want anything further to do with this election season, but the activist in me says one more push.  So, I’ll go.

Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Great Wheel, Humanities, Myth and Story

Samhain: 2010

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Samhain                                                    Waning Harvest Moon

In the ancient Celtic faith Samhain (October 31) and Beltane (May 1) were the only holidays.  W. Y. Evans-Wentz gave a folklorist’s account of that faith in his first book, . Evans-Wentz wrote this amazing work, little known in spite of his later and famous first translation of the Tibetan  Book of the Dead, after wandering several months through the Celtic countryside, staying in the villages and modest homes and listening to these stories as they were told around fires of peat, voices passing on a tradition and whiling away the dreary winter months in a time before electricity.

Think of such a time as the cold begins to bear down on us and the leaves have fallen, the vegetables brought in from the garden now lying in their dark storage.  Imagine if those vegetables and what grain might be stored as well, imagine if they were your food, your only food, for the next five to seven months.  Though the Celtic winters were not as severe as the ones here in Minnesota, they were just as fallow, the earth no longer yielding fruits, all hope of new produce gone until late spring.

It’s easy for me to imagine this because I harvested the last of our vegetables yesterday.  I would be in a panic r if we had to survive on the few carrots, beets, potatoes, onions and garlic we have stored dry.  Yes, we have honey, canned tomatoes and some pickles, but even for the two of us, we would have to be almost magicians to live off this amount of food.  At best we would enter spring mere shadows of our October well-fed selves.  As supplements to our diet, our stored food is wonderful, a blessing; as sustenance alone, it would be meager.  At best.

Among the Celts this was, too, a time when the veil between the worlds thinned and passage eased from the Other World to this one and from this one to the Other World.  Like the Mexican Day of the Dead, celebrated on the same date, it was a time when ancestors might visit.  To keep them happy their favorite foods and music and dress would be available.  The Celts also believed that, in addition to the dead, the inhabitants of faery could come and walk among human kind.  They might steal children or lure unwary persons back across the veil, back to the world of faery where time passes so differently than it does here.

We have the faint memory of this holiday today.  The costumed remind us of the strange and often scary entities of the Other World that flit, often unseen, among the living on this night.   The jack o’lanterns have descended from the Samhain carved turnip (a rutabaga to us in the U.S.) which, when lit with a candle, glows yellow, much like a skull.  The carved turnip and the parshall were put on or near the lintel (sound familiar?) to keep those roamers from the Other World at bay.

On a personal and spiritual level this can be a time to consider the past growing season, Beltane as the Celts called it.  What came to maturation in the last six months?  Have you taken time to harvest and store up the fruits of those efforts?  It can also be  a time to consider the fallow and bleak time ahead, Samhain.  While Beltane might be the Baroque or Rococo time of year, heavily decorated with lots of shadows and light, winter is the minimalist season, a time when the canvas might even be bare.  Then we might confront our world as a Mark Rothko painting, an inward time, of seeing the other as it resides in our Self, or going down to the well of the collective soul and replenishing ourselves for the year ahead.

A paradox rears itself here.  A paradox most neatly stated in the observation by certain Western thinkers that September 29th, Michaelmas, the celebration of the archangel Michael, is the springtime of the soul.  Thus, as the growing season wanes and finally extinguishes, we follow Persephone under ground, down into the cathedrals of our own souls.  There we can recharge oursSelves in the deep waters.