Russia just gets BETTER and BETTER!
Another letter arrived Sunday morning (which is Sunday night over there) from Stu regarding the Russian Festival of Bureaucracy and Paranoia.
Pasted Letter:
How things happen over here is a big mystery to Bill & me. We believe there is some information we are not getting from our host Yuri, in regards ot all this. We specifically asked for prayer for it though in the church service today, so it must really concrne him.
I've been dissapointed in the footage I've been getting or more yet the footage I have not got. It's seems there has been a roadblcok at every turn, from our hectic travel schedule, to restrictions put on me by Yuri, to getting harrased by the authorities. It could turn possibly tunr into a huge hassle should I desire to get a travel visa over here again since I have been arrested. We're still trying to find things out thgouh. We don't want to cause Yuri and his organization any headaches over here, as far as having Amerciancs come to Russia. Still we need to find out the bottom line about what is going on over here and how to avoid it on the future. To Bill & in many ways it seems Russia has swung the other direction from freedom to tightening things down again. We'll see when we get back to the U.S. and try to figure out what is going on as it relates to possible future trips and certainly anyone else we 'know coming over to help.
It's about 5 pm Sunday over here. So you can start praying on your Sunday night for everything to go smoothly as Bill & I check into our exit hotel to have them do the paperwork for us leaving. We pray we don't have to go into downtown Vlad and stand in multiple lines for multiple days to get this thing resolved. Our flight departs at 4:20p Tuesday, which will be about midnight Monday for you. We have a very quick turn of about 50 minutes in Seoul to catch our flight to Seattle, so please pray that all happens. Odds are our baggage could be lost but we'll see. Lots to pray about. Can't wait to leave the hassles behind here and get home to see you and the kids.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Friday, October 21, 2005
2nd Run-In wiht Russian Police Results in Arrest!
This is Stu's own account of his recent arrest in Siberia.
Mind you, this is the SECOND altercation he has had in as many weeks.
Stu Writes:
Greetings from Vladivsotok,
We have returned from another week of travel as our journey here winds down, but not without some harrowing experiences and some run-ins with the police. It was much more severe than last week's travel and this time it cost me more than just inconvenience.
We started our week of travels on Monday in Vladivostok , shooting interviews at the future Bible college that is being built from the shell of a large brick house north of town.
However, our return journey this morning from Chuguveka, we faced our first good snow (snik) of the year and a normally four hour drive back to Vlad that turned into seven hours of sliding around the rough highway. We saw countless wrecks and cars down embankments, fortunately we weren't one of them, that despite Yuri's overly aggressive speed. Bill and I took turns riding in the front seat of the van, which we changed from "the very scary seat," to "the Jesus seat," since it made us feel closer to meeting Jesus just riding there. Frankly, it wasn't the fear of death that was the problem, it was the fear of surviving and ending up in a remote Russian hospital manned by old pensioned doctors, whose only calling in life, I am told by locals, seems to be that you just die more slowly under their care. Still, while riding up front as passenger, I worked as hard as Yuri, using body English to try to get us around each corner and truck that we passed on the icy highway.
Earlier in the week we left Vlad under clear autumn skies with travel five hours north to the industrial city of Spaask-Daliny. As I gathered up my camera gear to go out and shoot up the town, I was a bit more paranoid of the militia having had a run-in with them the week before in Olga, yet felt confident that it was just a blip on the radar screen. Still, our Paravorchetsa (translator) Irena, and companion Bill Chesley, insisted on accompanying me on a walk around town to gather lifestyle footage. Frankly, it was tough to find good images. There weren't a lot of people on the streets in this town, that made its name producing concrete to build the Soviet Union of the Far East & Siberia. The town is facing high unemployment and has cut back on production of the only major construction material of every apartment we ever saw. There is always present the pall of concrete dust in the air in Spaask. Lung conditions are not uncommon here.
The only real fun I had that afternoon was when I stopped in a gift store to buy a watch (about $5) and the lady couldn't get either of the two I liked to work. Oh, well. I did have an amusing time with about a half-dozen boys and girls who were about 12 years of age outside some nearby apartments. I made Polaroid photos of them for gifts, which they thoroughly enjoyed. We were also welcome curiosities as the first Americans they have ever met. They didn't want us to leave and even invited us to a school program they were performing in that evening, which we couldn't attend because of my shooting schedule that night at a Bible study at the local church where I would gather footage of the ministry of pastor/missionary, Sasha Zimin. He's a good man, ministering in a tough place with a small band of 60 committed believers in this town 40,000. It's not a pleasant place to live and when I asked Sasha's wife, Anna, about Spassk, she remarked, with a content smile on her face, that they felt certain it was where God would have them minister for now. Their apartment on the fifth floor is Spartan. Bill and I slept on the floor, but as always we were made to feel welcome at the small table we huddled around for meals of borscht, bread, sausage and chi.
The next couple of days were frustrating on the shooting end of things. We went to the closed military city of Novosisoyevka. MiG jets raced overhead and old Russian fighter aircraft stood anchored to the ground as display relics between the labyrinth of worn-out concrete apartment buildings.
We were warned not to loiter, not to speak English in public, and not photograph outside of the apartment we were staying for the night. Now, that is frustrating for a guy whose soul purpose is to be documenting the people and places of Primorski. Still, if I would have known the secret lurking inside my travel papers, I would have been more than happy to keep a low profile. We got a good interview with a young Pastor Piotr, and his wife Olga, who minister to many families here in this military town, where like most cities, alcohol and drugs are a huge problem. It is an aimless life in a dreary place, where real hope is a scarce commodity.
I asked Pastor Piotr why it was difficult for Christian work to take hold and he remarked that old ways die hard and that people are still generally suspicious of new ideas. Many regard Evangelical Christianity as an American import, which the Russian Orthodox Church is more than happy to perpetrate.
When we traveled east an hour to the town of Chuguyevka the real troubles started for me. I was anxious to get caught up on footage that showed Russia towns and villages. I struck out on my own down the main street shooting picturesque houses with their brightly painted, distinctive Russian shutters, people drawing water from the well and stacking firewood for the winter. A man emerged from his house and gave me a cold stare. I ignored him and kept on shooting. Soon a white sedan pulled up to where I was standing and the same man emerged, demanding to see my passport. At first I was a bit reluctant, but then thought, "I'm legal, so why not?" Well, he looked at my immigration paper and I'm guessing by a few key words I knew, was wondering why I hadn't had a registration stamp for Chuguyevka. As far as I knew I didn't need one, only if I was staying for three days or more. I had been in town two hours. I quickly turned to my Russian phrase book, but couldn't find anything appropriate to say except, "This dress doesn't fit, do you have it in another size?" I'm sure that would not have impressed him. This was a guy who was bespectacled in his mid-fifties and looked very disappointed that communism had failed. He loaded me and my gear into his sedan for the very short trip to the police station. He seemed to know everyone there, greeting them by name and shaking hands. It was later I found out I was shooting video outside of his house, the chief weapons officer for this police district. Oh, great. He led me down some dank, gray hallways and into the office of a very serious thirty-something woman adorned in the no-nonsense olive drab uniform, the only other color being the starred gold and crimson bars she wore on her shoulders. The officer exchanged words with the woman and left. I was on my own.
She spoke zero English and my Russian phrases only included, "sure is cold out," and "thank you for the cabbage, it is delicious." Soon she found a young woman in the office who spoke limited English who explained to me that my travel visa was expired. They showed me the date on it. I was in disbelief and tried to plead my case, explaining that my visa was good for the entire month of October. She again pointed to the expiration date on the immigration document I received when I entered the country. At that time they had mistakenly put the wrong exit date on it. I was supposed to have left after my first week in the country, on the 10 th. I didn't really feel nervous, but I could see my hand trembling as I held the visa to show them the dates on it. It was getting close to my rendezvous time with Pastor Genya and Bill at nearby Lenin Square. They kept my passport and allowed me to leave to go get Genya. I brought him back and the long conversation started about why I was there, what I was shooting (they asked me to playback some of the tape I shot that day) and why I had not left the country on the 10 th. Genya was warm and friendly to them, but I picked up a hint of the great unknown in his voice, although he assured me it would be no problem, and that I wouldn't have to spend the night in jail. As the woman officer turned to work on her computer, ironically running the Windows operating system, Genya transitioned from why I was there, to document the work of Christians in Primorski, to giving the now three woman officers, and a Chinese businessman, the Gospel message. What an amazing guy, using every opportunity to share God's love with people.
After two hours of paperwork, writing and signing a confession, it was decided that I must pay a 1000 ruble fine and return to Vladivostok in the morning. The 1000 rubles was only about $30 so no big deal there, I had that, and we were heading to Vlad anyway the next day.
Still, I have never had more hassles in Russia than on this trip. It was probably good in several ways that I was arrested. Bill's immigration papers were also flawed. Fortunately he stayed hidden and didn't have to pay the fine. But if we arrived at the airport this Tuesday with expired visas we might be detained while they straightened things out and have to stay in Russia until the next twice-a-week flight took off for Seoul, if it wasn't already full. But the greater good was that people got to hear the Gospel in that police station who might not otherwise hear it and Pastor Genya got to make some good connections for future ministry. Still, I didn't shoot the amount of footage I was expecting, which was a huge disappointment.
When leaving Chuguyevka behind Friday morning, I turned to Bill and made the selfish remark, that, "well at least we can leave," speaking in broader terms, that at least we can leave this village and country. As I sit in the apartment in Vlad, it is bitterly cold outside. The wind (duyvetier) moves the curtains through two separate panes of glass. The coal-fired central heating plant in Vlad probably didn't see this storm coming. The heating radiators here in the apartment are as cold as it is outside. I'm wearing thermal underwear, a sweater, drinking chi, and still I'm a bit chilled. Still, I have the hope of leaving to another home.
This is a tough place. People age prematurely. Alcohol and the harshness of life often take their toll. However, this is the life they know, in their words, normalna. The Christians here though have a brightness about them, a real hope that reaches beyond the day to day toughness of making life work here. I think of the people in my own country who exist in normalna. If you don't know any better, whether in The Russia Far East or the USA , you don't know that you're missing the hope, joy and peace that Christ brings even in the most dreary of circumstances or in a life numbed by a preoccupation with the toys that affluence buys. Yes, I'll get to leave for a better home in a few days, however along with the Russian believers, the hope awaits of the ultimate home someday, for all of us who believe.
Tonight I venture out to shoot the youth group at the church across town, and then hopefully gather footage of the life around Vladivostok, and shoot a few more interviews before we leave for the states on Tuesday.
The believers here are strong and committed. They lack many resources, but have faith and heart to propel them. They experience a God who provides what is needed for the day.
I could fill many more pages here with the stories of hope I've heard, and tales about the nuances of a life and culture I find difficult to understand at times, but also the many laughs and smiles I've shared with new friends here. It is with anticipation I return to the states, and begin work on the documentary of what is happening in the lives of people in the Russia Far East. It is tinged though with a sharp melancholy for the people I leave behind, the memories of which I'll treasure greatly, and who will now be in my prayers.
Thank you for allowing me to share this trip with you and for making it possible for me to undertake this journey, and especially the experience, the wonder, of seeing God anew through the eyes of the people of the Primorski region of the Russia far East.
Much Love in Christ,
Stu
Mind you, this is the SECOND altercation he has had in as many weeks.
Stu Writes:
Greetings from Vladivsotok,
We have returned from another week of travel as our journey here winds down, but not without some harrowing experiences and some run-ins with the police. It was much more severe than last week's travel and this time it cost me more than just inconvenience.
We started our week of travels on Monday in Vladivostok , shooting interviews at the future Bible college that is being built from the shell of a large brick house north of town.
However, our return journey this morning from Chuguveka, we faced our first good snow (snik) of the year and a normally four hour drive back to Vlad that turned into seven hours of sliding around the rough highway. We saw countless wrecks and cars down embankments, fortunately we weren't one of them, that despite Yuri's overly aggressive speed. Bill and I took turns riding in the front seat of the van, which we changed from "the very scary seat," to "the Jesus seat," since it made us feel closer to meeting Jesus just riding there. Frankly, it wasn't the fear of death that was the problem, it was the fear of surviving and ending up in a remote Russian hospital manned by old pensioned doctors, whose only calling in life, I am told by locals, seems to be that you just die more slowly under their care. Still, while riding up front as passenger, I worked as hard as Yuri, using body English to try to get us around each corner and truck that we passed on the icy highway.
Earlier in the week we left Vlad under clear autumn skies with travel five hours north to the industrial city of Spaask-Daliny. As I gathered up my camera gear to go out and shoot up the town, I was a bit more paranoid of the militia having had a run-in with them the week before in Olga, yet felt confident that it was just a blip on the radar screen. Still, our Paravorchetsa (translator) Irena, and companion Bill Chesley, insisted on accompanying me on a walk around town to gather lifestyle footage. Frankly, it was tough to find good images. There weren't a lot of people on the streets in this town, that made its name producing concrete to build the Soviet Union of the Far East & Siberia. The town is facing high unemployment and has cut back on production of the only major construction material of every apartment we ever saw. There is always present the pall of concrete dust in the air in Spaask. Lung conditions are not uncommon here.
The only real fun I had that afternoon was when I stopped in a gift store to buy a watch (about $5) and the lady couldn't get either of the two I liked to work. Oh, well. I did have an amusing time with about a half-dozen boys and girls who were about 12 years of age outside some nearby apartments. I made Polaroid photos of them for gifts, which they thoroughly enjoyed. We were also welcome curiosities as the first Americans they have ever met. They didn't want us to leave and even invited us to a school program they were performing in that evening, which we couldn't attend because of my shooting schedule that night at a Bible study at the local church where I would gather footage of the ministry of pastor/missionary, Sasha Zimin. He's a good man, ministering in a tough place with a small band of 60 committed believers in this town 40,000. It's not a pleasant place to live and when I asked Sasha's wife, Anna, about Spassk, she remarked, with a content smile on her face, that they felt certain it was where God would have them minister for now. Their apartment on the fifth floor is Spartan. Bill and I slept on the floor, but as always we were made to feel welcome at the small table we huddled around for meals of borscht, bread, sausage and chi.
The next couple of days were frustrating on the shooting end of things. We went to the closed military city of Novosisoyevka. MiG jets raced overhead and old Russian fighter aircraft stood anchored to the ground as display relics between the labyrinth of worn-out concrete apartment buildings.
We were warned not to loiter, not to speak English in public, and not photograph outside of the apartment we were staying for the night. Now, that is frustrating for a guy whose soul purpose is to be documenting the people and places of Primorski. Still, if I would have known the secret lurking inside my travel papers, I would have been more than happy to keep a low profile. We got a good interview with a young Pastor Piotr, and his wife Olga, who minister to many families here in this military town, where like most cities, alcohol and drugs are a huge problem. It is an aimless life in a dreary place, where real hope is a scarce commodity.
I asked Pastor Piotr why it was difficult for Christian work to take hold and he remarked that old ways die hard and that people are still generally suspicious of new ideas. Many regard Evangelical Christianity as an American import, which the Russian Orthodox Church is more than happy to perpetrate.
When we traveled east an hour to the town of Chuguyevka the real troubles started for me. I was anxious to get caught up on footage that showed Russia towns and villages. I struck out on my own down the main street shooting picturesque houses with their brightly painted, distinctive Russian shutters, people drawing water from the well and stacking firewood for the winter. A man emerged from his house and gave me a cold stare. I ignored him and kept on shooting. Soon a white sedan pulled up to where I was standing and the same man emerged, demanding to see my passport. At first I was a bit reluctant, but then thought, "I'm legal, so why not?" Well, he looked at my immigration paper and I'm guessing by a few key words I knew, was wondering why I hadn't had a registration stamp for Chuguyevka. As far as I knew I didn't need one, only if I was staying for three days or more. I had been in town two hours. I quickly turned to my Russian phrase book, but couldn't find anything appropriate to say except, "This dress doesn't fit, do you have it in another size?" I'm sure that would not have impressed him. This was a guy who was bespectacled in his mid-fifties and looked very disappointed that communism had failed. He loaded me and my gear into his sedan for the very short trip to the police station. He seemed to know everyone there, greeting them by name and shaking hands. It was later I found out I was shooting video outside of his house, the chief weapons officer for this police district. Oh, great. He led me down some dank, gray hallways and into the office of a very serious thirty-something woman adorned in the no-nonsense olive drab uniform, the only other color being the starred gold and crimson bars she wore on her shoulders. The officer exchanged words with the woman and left. I was on my own.
She spoke zero English and my Russian phrases only included, "sure is cold out," and "thank you for the cabbage, it is delicious." Soon she found a young woman in the office who spoke limited English who explained to me that my travel visa was expired. They showed me the date on it. I was in disbelief and tried to plead my case, explaining that my visa was good for the entire month of October. She again pointed to the expiration date on the immigration document I received when I entered the country. At that time they had mistakenly put the wrong exit date on it. I was supposed to have left after my first week in the country, on the 10 th. I didn't really feel nervous, but I could see my hand trembling as I held the visa to show them the dates on it. It was getting close to my rendezvous time with Pastor Genya and Bill at nearby Lenin Square. They kept my passport and allowed me to leave to go get Genya. I brought him back and the long conversation started about why I was there, what I was shooting (they asked me to playback some of the tape I shot that day) and why I had not left the country on the 10 th. Genya was warm and friendly to them, but I picked up a hint of the great unknown in his voice, although he assured me it would be no problem, and that I wouldn't have to spend the night in jail. As the woman officer turned to work on her computer, ironically running the Windows operating system, Genya transitioned from why I was there, to document the work of Christians in Primorski, to giving the now three woman officers, and a Chinese businessman, the Gospel message. What an amazing guy, using every opportunity to share God's love with people.
After two hours of paperwork, writing and signing a confession, it was decided that I must pay a 1000 ruble fine and return to Vladivostok in the morning. The 1000 rubles was only about $30 so no big deal there, I had that, and we were heading to Vlad anyway the next day.
Still, I have never had more hassles in Russia than on this trip. It was probably good in several ways that I was arrested. Bill's immigration papers were also flawed. Fortunately he stayed hidden and didn't have to pay the fine. But if we arrived at the airport this Tuesday with expired visas we might be detained while they straightened things out and have to stay in Russia until the next twice-a-week flight took off for Seoul, if it wasn't already full. But the greater good was that people got to hear the Gospel in that police station who might not otherwise hear it and Pastor Genya got to make some good connections for future ministry. Still, I didn't shoot the amount of footage I was expecting, which was a huge disappointment.
When leaving Chuguyevka behind Friday morning, I turned to Bill and made the selfish remark, that, "well at least we can leave," speaking in broader terms, that at least we can leave this village and country. As I sit in the apartment in Vlad, it is bitterly cold outside. The wind (duyvetier) moves the curtains through two separate panes of glass. The coal-fired central heating plant in Vlad probably didn't see this storm coming. The heating radiators here in the apartment are as cold as it is outside. I'm wearing thermal underwear, a sweater, drinking chi, and still I'm a bit chilled. Still, I have the hope of leaving to another home.
This is a tough place. People age prematurely. Alcohol and the harshness of life often take their toll. However, this is the life they know, in their words, normalna. The Christians here though have a brightness about them, a real hope that reaches beyond the day to day toughness of making life work here. I think of the people in my own country who exist in normalna. If you don't know any better, whether in The Russia Far East or the USA , you don't know that you're missing the hope, joy and peace that Christ brings even in the most dreary of circumstances or in a life numbed by a preoccupation with the toys that affluence buys. Yes, I'll get to leave for a better home in a few days, however along with the Russian believers, the hope awaits of the ultimate home someday, for all of us who believe.
Tonight I venture out to shoot the youth group at the church across town, and then hopefully gather footage of the life around Vladivostok, and shoot a few more interviews before we leave for the states on Tuesday.
The believers here are strong and committed. They lack many resources, but have faith and heart to propel them. They experience a God who provides what is needed for the day.
I could fill many more pages here with the stories of hope I've heard, and tales about the nuances of a life and culture I find difficult to understand at times, but also the many laughs and smiles I've shared with new friends here. It is with anticipation I return to the states, and begin work on the documentary of what is happening in the lives of people in the Russia Far East. It is tinged though with a sharp melancholy for the people I leave behind, the memories of which I'll treasure greatly, and who will now be in my prayers.
Thank you for allowing me to share this trip with you and for making it possible for me to undertake this journey, and especially the experience, the wonder, of seeing God anew through the eyes of the people of the Primorski region of the Russia far East.
Much Love in Christ,
Stu
Monday, October 17, 2005
Russian update
For those who are trying to follow the Siberian Gig:
many of you, Stu doesn not have updated email addies for,
and apparently they keep bouncing. (!)
Anyway, so here is the most recent update, as of yesterday - which was their today - go figure!
Stu writes:
Greetings from the Russia Far East!
Well, I got busted.
Literally.
The cops came down on me and it almost cost me a big part of this trip.
More on that later though.
The second week of this trip started out like the first, with a long, bumpy, sometime harrowing, 8 hour drive north of Vladivostok to the ministry field of, The Primorski Association of Missionary Churches of Evangelical Christians (PAMCEC). The first stop was the village Olga on the Pacific coast, where an energetic, 27 year old Pastor Vitaly, his wife and 3 kids live. The church where they minister is a small converted grocery store (magazeen) that serves the 40 people who worship there. We awoke early Tuesday morning from the very frigid apartment where Bill, our translator Irena, and I stayed, to attend their daily prayer meeting. Every morning in the dark about 15 of the faithful gather to sing and pray for friends, family and community. It is having a huge effect on their community of about 3000. People are coming to faith in Christ, and good relationships are being established.
This is also the place where I got into trouble with the police. I was out shooting stills and video in the community when the local authorities came rolling up in a beat-up old Chinese pickup truck. A large officious woman in Olive, with Crimson epaulets (I swear she looked like she was right out of central casting including the overly dyed red hair under her police cap) jumped out in her tall high heels and demanded to see my passport and visa. All this is taking place in Russian which I know very little of. She got very agitated as she was sorting through my visa and passport which we were warned to always, always, have on us. Something was strangely amiss though. She became even more upset, blathering on in Russian. I sent a young boy who was walking with me back to find Bill and my paravorchek (translator) Irena. As soon as they arrived, accompanied by Pastor Vitaly, in the van, I understood that I was missing a valuable piece of immigration paperwork that was issued to me when I arrived and that I must have when I leave the country. I sorted through all the luggage in our van and couldn't find it. The woman said that if I couldn't find it we must leave for Vlad immediately (8 hour drive back) and have it reissued. Don't even think about stopping anywhere else or there would be real trouble. Fortunately, Vitaly was neighbors with the woman and his winsome ways did a lot to diffuse the situation. She gave him the only smile I'd seen out of her, in a way that communicated that she wasn't surprised Viatly was mixed up in this somehow, but in a way that conveyed trust in Vitaly's character.
There was one last camera bag back at Vitaly's house. We prayed as we drove back and I quickly emptied the contents on the floor. There in the midst of the heap was an innocuous, wrinkled little piece of paper with a red stamp on it. The missing document. We all breathed a sigh of relief. Now we could go on to Dalnegorsk and Kavalerovo and Fabreejnee.
I shot an interview with Vitaly and then helped him haul water before we left. Although he lives in a house, there are many strange dichotomies about living in a typical village like Olga. He doesn't have running water like most people who live in houses here. He hauls it every other day or so from a town well, filling large 10 gallon milk cans that he keeps on the porch. Without running water, everyone uses the outhouse out back. The house is heated by wood stove. Yet on the flip side he has a decent laptop computer and a good color printer. Like most people he has a 5 foot satellite dish out front to bring in TV. Add to that a cell phone which strangely most people have (about $6.00 per month for service). No running water but good cell service, go figure. Because almost all of these young pastors don't have large enough congregation to support them yet, they rely on Ukrainian, Korean, and Russian and American Christians to help support their work. They are the ones who help with computers, used Japanese cars, and the other things, like cellphones that help the process of doing ministry in this rugged part of the world.
We stayed next at the church in the large mining city of Dalnegorsk tucked away between large mountain ranges. Like a lot of churches this one occupies an old commercial building. Not perfect for a church but a good meeting place for the believers. They also run a seminary-Bible school several months out of the year, inviting in guest teachers from the Ukraine, Korea and the U.S.
The real thrill of this past week was our time in the town Kavalerovo a town of about 40,000. You wouldn't think there were that many people in this town, but almost all are housed in huge clusters of concrete apartment building that rise 10 stories up. A real cookie cutter process, they all look identical.
The church there under the care of Pastor Ruslan (28) is healthy and thriving with about 100 believers. The building was built from scratch, funded by Ukrainian Christians. It is nothing fancy, but very practical and will fit about 180 in a squeeze. There is a wide range of ages, well balanced between older, younger, in between, and a good balance between men and women, which is not always the case. Often times the women far out number the men. Many men believe that religion is for women and as men they would prefer to spend their time with a vodka bottle, which is why you see very few older men. The believers though are generous, light-hearted and have a real love for the Lord. They even have an Awana program for the kids! Pastor Ruslan spends his time making many friends and contacts around the city. He is well liked and respected everywhere, by those in authority and the ditch digger. And his is a tough work. It is slow going. The real tough reality is that many people over 30 are still very suspicious and reserved having been brought up under communism. The people that are under 30 are chasing the dollar, or should I say Ruble? They believe that an easier life-style will bring them ultimate happiness. They are many entrepreneurs around. Ruslan keeps in good contact with them for the time when they will realize that money won't buy the meaning to life. It's very great and inspiring to watch Ruslan work, handing out Christian newspapers and books to non-believers all who willingly accept them.
One of the few other treats we had while in Kavalerovo was interviewing the oldest believer in town, a 101 year old woman. She was 12 years old when the communists came to power and spent her life worshipping God in the underground church. She wandered a bit during the interview, but living to be 101 she earned the right to talk about how she makes her favorite jam!
After a few more stops in villages we have finally settled back in Vladivostok for the weekend, having driven over 1500 miles in last few weeks over some of the roughest "highways" in existence (most wouldn't pass for a poor county road in the states) We are regrouping here, shooting some interviews at the Bible school being built north of Vlad and then we'll start out again tomorrow in our travels 4 hours north to Spaask-Daliny and other villages in the region where the Association is planting churches. Right now I am trying, between power outages, to get this e-mail out. A frustrating but not unusual for this part of the world, even for a city of 800,000.
The shooting of video and stills is going better this past week, although we still short of "color shots" that really help paint the full picture of what is happening here, while in truth, as Americans, we can never fully appreciate what is happening just below the surface of the people and culture of this land. They are many things that defy explanation, as least to me, and I have worked hard with our paravorchek (translator) to try to understand what I am seeing and experiencing. It is a blessing though to see how Christ meets people in every culture. So different and yet the same. It is that very bond with these Christians that despite the hard work, sometimes sleepless nights on a couch, or frigid apartment, and eating way too much borscht, cabbage and fatty sausage (cardiac arrest on a plate), that still makes coming here a real blessing. I hope the footage I gather here will be able to communicate at least in a small way, the remarkable story of people in this remarkable land.
Please pray that has we enter this final week, for safety as we travel (Yuri's driving still makes me feel closer to Jesus, but in the wrong way). Also, for good health and especially great opportunities to gather great footage. I'm still a little nervous about accomplishing that task.
Many thanks!
Stu
many of you, Stu doesn not have updated email addies for,
and apparently they keep bouncing. (!)
Anyway, so here is the most recent update, as of yesterday - which was their today - go figure!
Stu writes:
Greetings from the Russia Far East!
Well, I got busted.
Literally.
The cops came down on me and it almost cost me a big part of this trip.
More on that later though.
The second week of this trip started out like the first, with a long, bumpy, sometime harrowing, 8 hour drive north of Vladivostok to the ministry field of, The Primorski Association of Missionary Churches of Evangelical Christians (PAMCEC). The first stop was the village Olga on the Pacific coast, where an energetic, 27 year old Pastor Vitaly, his wife and 3 kids live. The church where they minister is a small converted grocery store (magazeen) that serves the 40 people who worship there. We awoke early Tuesday morning from the very frigid apartment where Bill, our translator Irena, and I stayed, to attend their daily prayer meeting. Every morning in the dark about 15 of the faithful gather to sing and pray for friends, family and community. It is having a huge effect on their community of about 3000. People are coming to faith in Christ, and good relationships are being established.
This is also the place where I got into trouble with the police. I was out shooting stills and video in the community when the local authorities came rolling up in a beat-up old Chinese pickup truck. A large officious woman in Olive, with Crimson epaulets (I swear she looked like she was right out of central casting including the overly dyed red hair under her police cap) jumped out in her tall high heels and demanded to see my passport and visa. All this is taking place in Russian which I know very little of. She got very agitated as she was sorting through my visa and passport which we were warned to always, always, have on us. Something was strangely amiss though. She became even more upset, blathering on in Russian. I sent a young boy who was walking with me back to find Bill and my paravorchek (translator) Irena. As soon as they arrived, accompanied by Pastor Vitaly, in the van, I understood that I was missing a valuable piece of immigration paperwork that was issued to me when I arrived and that I must have when I leave the country. I sorted through all the luggage in our van and couldn't find it. The woman said that if I couldn't find it we must leave for Vlad immediately (8 hour drive back) and have it reissued. Don't even think about stopping anywhere else or there would be real trouble. Fortunately, Vitaly was neighbors with the woman and his winsome ways did a lot to diffuse the situation. She gave him the only smile I'd seen out of her, in a way that communicated that she wasn't surprised Viatly was mixed up in this somehow, but in a way that conveyed trust in Vitaly's character.
There was one last camera bag back at Vitaly's house. We prayed as we drove back and I quickly emptied the contents on the floor. There in the midst of the heap was an innocuous, wrinkled little piece of paper with a red stamp on it. The missing document. We all breathed a sigh of relief. Now we could go on to Dalnegorsk and Kavalerovo and Fabreejnee.
I shot an interview with Vitaly and then helped him haul water before we left. Although he lives in a house, there are many strange dichotomies about living in a typical village like Olga. He doesn't have running water like most people who live in houses here. He hauls it every other day or so from a town well, filling large 10 gallon milk cans that he keeps on the porch. Without running water, everyone uses the outhouse out back. The house is heated by wood stove. Yet on the flip side he has a decent laptop computer and a good color printer. Like most people he has a 5 foot satellite dish out front to bring in TV. Add to that a cell phone which strangely most people have (about $6.00 per month for service). No running water but good cell service, go figure. Because almost all of these young pastors don't have large enough congregation to support them yet, they rely on Ukrainian, Korean, and Russian and American Christians to help support their work. They are the ones who help with computers, used Japanese cars, and the other things, like cellphones that help the process of doing ministry in this rugged part of the world.
We stayed next at the church in the large mining city of Dalnegorsk tucked away between large mountain ranges. Like a lot of churches this one occupies an old commercial building. Not perfect for a church but a good meeting place for the believers. They also run a seminary-Bible school several months out of the year, inviting in guest teachers from the Ukraine, Korea and the U.S.
The real thrill of this past week was our time in the town Kavalerovo a town of about 40,000. You wouldn't think there were that many people in this town, but almost all are housed in huge clusters of concrete apartment building that rise 10 stories up. A real cookie cutter process, they all look identical.
The church there under the care of Pastor Ruslan (28) is healthy and thriving with about 100 believers. The building was built from scratch, funded by Ukrainian Christians. It is nothing fancy, but very practical and will fit about 180 in a squeeze. There is a wide range of ages, well balanced between older, younger, in between, and a good balance between men and women, which is not always the case. Often times the women far out number the men. Many men believe that religion is for women and as men they would prefer to spend their time with a vodka bottle, which is why you see very few older men. The believers though are generous, light-hearted and have a real love for the Lord. They even have an Awana program for the kids! Pastor Ruslan spends his time making many friends and contacts around the city. He is well liked and respected everywhere, by those in authority and the ditch digger. And his is a tough work. It is slow going. The real tough reality is that many people over 30 are still very suspicious and reserved having been brought up under communism. The people that are under 30 are chasing the dollar, or should I say Ruble? They believe that an easier life-style will bring them ultimate happiness. They are many entrepreneurs around. Ruslan keeps in good contact with them for the time when they will realize that money won't buy the meaning to life. It's very great and inspiring to watch Ruslan work, handing out Christian newspapers and books to non-believers all who willingly accept them.
One of the few other treats we had while in Kavalerovo was interviewing the oldest believer in town, a 101 year old woman. She was 12 years old when the communists came to power and spent her life worshipping God in the underground church. She wandered a bit during the interview, but living to be 101 she earned the right to talk about how she makes her favorite jam!
After a few more stops in villages we have finally settled back in Vladivostok for the weekend, having driven over 1500 miles in last few weeks over some of the roughest "highways" in existence (most wouldn't pass for a poor county road in the states) We are regrouping here, shooting some interviews at the Bible school being built north of Vlad and then we'll start out again tomorrow in our travels 4 hours north to Spaask-Daliny and other villages in the region where the Association is planting churches. Right now I am trying, between power outages, to get this e-mail out. A frustrating but not unusual for this part of the world, even for a city of 800,000.
The shooting of video and stills is going better this past week, although we still short of "color shots" that really help paint the full picture of what is happening here, while in truth, as Americans, we can never fully appreciate what is happening just below the surface of the people and culture of this land. They are many things that defy explanation, as least to me, and I have worked hard with our paravorchek (translator) to try to understand what I am seeing and experiencing. It is a blessing though to see how Christ meets people in every culture. So different and yet the same. It is that very bond with these Christians that despite the hard work, sometimes sleepless nights on a couch, or frigid apartment, and eating way too much borscht, cabbage and fatty sausage (cardiac arrest on a plate), that still makes coming here a real blessing. I hope the footage I gather here will be able to communicate at least in a small way, the remarkable story of people in this remarkable land.
Please pray that has we enter this final week, for safety as we travel (Yuri's driving still makes me feel closer to Jesus, but in the wrong way). Also, for good health and especially great opportunities to gather great footage. I'm still a little nervous about accomplishing that task.
Many thanks!
Stu
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Future Studio/Meat Puppet Monger?
I am kind of at a loss.
A friend of ours has been trying to get his studio up and running for more than a year now.
He is a visionary.
You know the type –
"Big Ideas", "Not always sure about how to get them implemented", etc.
Every business needs visionaries.
But also people who have the capabilities to bring their out-of-the-box ideas to fruition.
Anyway, Stan (not his real name) has been building on this double duty studio idea for over a year. Now he is wanting some one to come in and set up the office for both the Film School and the Facility Rental aspects of the studio. He is under some kind of time crunch, needing to get somebody in there next week.
For once, he is talking Green. ($$), although not in any quantifiable manner.
Yet.
As always, I am wary.
Stan is always full of huge ideas.
So far few of them have actually come to anything.
But such is the way sometimes, with visionaries.
What is it Edison did? Found 2000 different ways how not to invent a lightbulb?
So ANYWAY….
I am supposed to go down and have a meeting at the studio on Monday to see what needs to be done, advise him a little bit and possibly set up a temporary schedule for helping him get things rolling.
I know that I am supposed to be not working full time.
I know that I am not supposed to be working in a situation that leaves me so drained that I haven’t got energy to devote to my kids.
I also believe that this is a time that I am supposed to be focusing on art.
Which would leave precious little time for any meaningful extra-curricular work.
But who knows.
Maybe I can get it rolling for him and then train somebody to come in and take over.
Beats me.
The fun part will be building the talent database though.
And writing copy and press releases and building press kits.
I actually enjoy that kind of stuff.
Oh well.
I am torn.
I do not want to allow myself to be distracted from my goals (being a mom, building my own Portfolio) by some other thing that mildly interests me.
I am proceeding VERY cautiously.
Those of you who walked with me through the fire of “quitting my day job” feel free to remind me of things I said/wanted/prcessed back then.
Feel free to poke me in the nose and say, “what are you thinking you flake!” or Say “hey, this could be something _____(insert your thought)”, anyway….
Ugh!
Decisions decisions!
I think I will just sit down and watch a movie with Scout today.
;o)
A friend of ours has been trying to get his studio up and running for more than a year now.
He is a visionary.
You know the type –
"Big Ideas", "Not always sure about how to get them implemented", etc.
Every business needs visionaries.
But also people who have the capabilities to bring their out-of-the-box ideas to fruition.
Anyway, Stan (not his real name) has been building on this double duty studio idea for over a year. Now he is wanting some one to come in and set up the office for both the Film School and the Facility Rental aspects of the studio. He is under some kind of time crunch, needing to get somebody in there next week.
For once, he is talking Green. ($$), although not in any quantifiable manner.
Yet.
As always, I am wary.
Stan is always full of huge ideas.
So far few of them have actually come to anything.
But such is the way sometimes, with visionaries.
What is it Edison did? Found 2000 different ways how not to invent a lightbulb?
So ANYWAY….
I am supposed to go down and have a meeting at the studio on Monday to see what needs to be done, advise him a little bit and possibly set up a temporary schedule for helping him get things rolling.
I know that I am supposed to be not working full time.
I know that I am not supposed to be working in a situation that leaves me so drained that I haven’t got energy to devote to my kids.
I also believe that this is a time that I am supposed to be focusing on art.
Which would leave precious little time for any meaningful extra-curricular work.
But who knows.
Maybe I can get it rolling for him and then train somebody to come in and take over.
Beats me.
The fun part will be building the talent database though.
And writing copy and press releases and building press kits.
I actually enjoy that kind of stuff.
Oh well.
I am torn.
I do not want to allow myself to be distracted from my goals (being a mom, building my own Portfolio) by some other thing that mildly interests me.
I am proceeding VERY cautiously.
Those of you who walked with me through the fire of “quitting my day job” feel free to remind me of things I said/wanted/prcessed back then.
Feel free to poke me in the nose and say, “what are you thinking you flake!” or Say “hey, this could be something _____(insert your thought)”, anyway….
Ugh!
Decisions decisions!
I think I will just sit down and watch a movie with Scout today.
;o)
Thursday, October 13, 2005
My Dog Helga
Is a beauteous wonder dog! She is German Shpeherd and Golden Retriever - but looks and has the IQ of a German Shepherd. Her gate, as she gallops or trots across field or yard is a beautiful metronome of flight.
I ran her over in the driveway today!
She apparently layed down beside my car in the time between my getting in it, and the time I started it and put it in gear. I had no idea she was laying there.
I backed up and heard her cries. I immediately shifted back into drive to moce forward - I had NO idea where she was at the time.
She cried again.
She is up and walking about, but I am watching for internal injury symptoms.
Somebody...
Crap!
I dunno.
She is such a love...
crap!
Please pray that she is ok.
I ran her over in the driveway today!
She apparently layed down beside my car in the time between my getting in it, and the time I started it and put it in gear. I had no idea she was laying there.
I backed up and heard her cries. I immediately shifted back into drive to moce forward - I had NO idea where she was at the time.
She cried again.
She is up and walking about, but I am watching for internal injury symptoms.
Somebody...
Crap!
I dunno.
She is such a love...
crap!
Please pray that she is ok.
Doris the Flight Attendant's Catch 'O' the Day
Today's link is supplied to us courtesy of Blue Max at North Canton Airline and Storm Door Co
who's motto is, "We're the Up Yours people."
(Doris has her own personal addendum's to that motto, depending upon her mood:
"We'll get you there. Eventually."
"We'll get you there. In our own way and in our own good time.")
who's motto is, "We're the Up Yours people."
(Doris has her own personal addendum's to that motto, depending upon her mood:
"We'll get you there. Eventually."
"We'll get you there. In our own way and in our own good time.")
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Cleavage of Doom
Why does this kind of crap always seem to happen to me?
At a church camp-out last summer, we are all sitting around the campfire.
Suddenly an ember pops, sending a flaming missile - not straight FOR my shirt but arching into the air and straight down INTO my shirt. I am hopping madly all over the place attempting to free the "Blistering Morsel from the Abyss" from my unmentionable-garment.
Likewise, this evening, I am preparing the gravy for our dinner.
In order to eradicate some lumps from the gravy in a hurry, I pour the whole batch of hot liquid into the blender, thinking I will puree them out.
Nobody ever told me what happens when you try to put hot liquid in a blender.
And how could I imagine the outcome?
It spewed scalding lava - where?
You guessed it!
I have a scalded torso that hurts like all the flames of Satans own domicile, and can barely scrape up enough pluck to clean the minimal residue that did not find its way to my cleavage, up off the floor.
Owey!
I swear I am going to invest in lead turtlenecks from now on!
Ow!
At a church camp-out last summer, we are all sitting around the campfire.
Suddenly an ember pops, sending a flaming missile - not straight FOR my shirt but arching into the air and straight down INTO my shirt. I am hopping madly all over the place attempting to free the "Blistering Morsel from the Abyss" from my unmentionable-garment.
Likewise, this evening, I am preparing the gravy for our dinner.
In order to eradicate some lumps from the gravy in a hurry, I pour the whole batch of hot liquid into the blender, thinking I will puree them out.
Nobody ever told me what happens when you try to put hot liquid in a blender.
And how could I imagine the outcome?
It spewed scalding lava - where?
You guessed it!
I have a scalded torso that hurts like all the flames of Satans own domicile, and can barely scrape up enough pluck to clean the minimal residue that did not find its way to my cleavage, up off the floor.
Owey!
I swear I am going to invest in lead turtlenecks from now on!
Ow!
Tuesday, October 4, 2005
First Efforts and Siberia
Page 1.
I hate the wallpaper and am planning to get rid of it, for a solid coloured wall instead, however Jessica (Illustrator and designer for a local publishing house) likes the wallpaper. So now I don't know. I think "Little Bad Girl" would 'pop' more if she were against a solid background. not sure yet.
Stu should be arriving in Vladivostock this morning. He probably spent a spent a yucky night trying to sleep in the airport in Seoul. I had a feeling he was not going to try to get a hotel room. I think he didn't want to commit and then have his flight be delayed and not use the room but still have to pay for the majority of it. Also, when it takes 90 minutes to get to a hotel that is 21 miles away, it makes one rethink whether one wants to get stuck at the mercy of some cabbie 90 minutes away from the airport in freaky unporedictable foreign traffic. So anyway, he probably spent a crappy night, is my guess. He is in Siberia through Oct 26th. I think while he is away I will go through the huge print box of photos from the last trip, but that time I think he was further north, around Yakutia. Still he had some fun images and maybe there are somethings I can mess with in PS now. Back in those days all we had was PS LE. That was like, what...early 90's? Late 80's? Something. MacKEnzie has that old computer now and I have to laff. Poor kid. It does nothing but notepad and LE. Its good. It keeps her humble.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Where I am at today
Hey Leh thanks for the offer to help.
I am still investigating the "round room" issue that I emailed you guys about, so if you have any words of wisdom on that, I would sure use them.
After meeting with Barb (who I collaborated with) I think it is going to end up being a flip-flop book - open the book from one side and the main character will be a girl and her sisters. Open it from the other side and it will be a boy and his brothers.
So while it is not going to be double the work, it will be double the subjects to shoot, but that is ok. I was thinking about it (sorta) in the middle of the night last night, (Funny how ideas on the edge of sleep seem kinda good at the time!), anyway, I was thinking first, that with the addition of the double-sided book it was going to take me for stinkin' EVER to get the thing done. After I thought a little more (Between sleep? Not sure,) I guessed that maybe I could set a goal of 1 page per day. I am not sure if that is too large a goal or too small. Certainly for some pages it is going to take longer, but for the most part that is a goal that will get this completed in good order.
Also, since I really am not in a tearing hurry (yet) I am thinking that in stead of grouping my shots, according to talent/location/etc, I have the liberty to be really psycho and shoot page by page. Today I am shooting page one. Tomorrow I assemble page one. Wednesday, I shoot page two, Thursday I assemble page two.
Maybe, but that would cut back my goal to "complete a page per day," even so, part of me doesn't want to get too structured either.
What kind of flake am I?
I don't know!
(And I think maybe I don't care either.)
;O)
But that was my middle of the night idea. We will see how it fares in the light of day and family and kid needs and all. ;o)
I am still investigating the "round room" issue that I emailed you guys about, so if you have any words of wisdom on that, I would sure use them.
After meeting with Barb (who I collaborated with) I think it is going to end up being a flip-flop book - open the book from one side and the main character will be a girl and her sisters. Open it from the other side and it will be a boy and his brothers.
So while it is not going to be double the work, it will be double the subjects to shoot, but that is ok. I was thinking about it (sorta) in the middle of the night last night, (Funny how ideas on the edge of sleep seem kinda good at the time!), anyway, I was thinking first, that with the addition of the double-sided book it was going to take me for stinkin' EVER to get the thing done. After I thought a little more (Between sleep? Not sure,) I guessed that maybe I could set a goal of 1 page per day. I am not sure if that is too large a goal or too small. Certainly for some pages it is going to take longer, but for the most part that is a goal that will get this completed in good order.
Also, since I really am not in a tearing hurry (yet) I am thinking that in stead of grouping my shots, according to talent/location/etc, I have the liberty to be really psycho and shoot page by page. Today I am shooting page one. Tomorrow I assemble page one. Wednesday, I shoot page two, Thursday I assemble page two.
Maybe, but that would cut back my goal to "complete a page per day," even so, part of me doesn't want to get too structured either.
What kind of flake am I?
I don't know!
(And I think maybe I don't care either.)
;O)
But that was my middle of the night idea. We will see how it fares in the light of day and family and kid needs and all. ;o)
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
The Room In My Head is Back in the line of Fire.
Ack!
I saw ~Insanity-is-a-gift''s photo shoot with his younger brother and it reminded me that it is always dicey shooting kids. It put me in the frame of mind that I need to be in, for a shoot with a 4 year old on Friday.
After having a childrens book sit on the back burner for 2 years, I am finally getting around to doing the illo's and some of the elements are photo manipulated.
I meet with the collaborator again, tomorrow-Thursday, and I hope that she likes where I am going with the imagery.
Granted, no "normal" publisher will publish it, and no "Inspirational Publisher" will publish it, because it is just on the fringes of marketability for either genre. But I can't let that stop me/us.
It has its place.
It has a message.
I used to teach the story to kids in schools, after I survived an auto accident and a surgery gone wrong.
I lay in bed, seemingly "unconscious", but VERY aware of my srroundings and people in the room.
I just couldn't "wake up."
I couldn't come out of it for days.
What started out as terrifying, ended up as peaceful and beautiful, and became a story of encouragement that I could share with my students, via oral story telling.
A childrens book author offered to help me take the story from oral to written, and it has become a childrens picture book. The ideal illustrator, while expressing interest, was unable to take on the task, as I could not pay up front, and the illustrator had a family to feed. It is understandable for I, myself, am in the same position.
As it happened, I came to decide that I would just have to buckle down and find a way to do the illo's myself.
Anyway...thats more than I intended to share...but I started making this journal entry and it just all came out.
It's more than any of you wanted to know, to be sure.
Still...there it is. So if I seem negligent or out of touch, I am not being aloof, I am just busy with a shooting schedule, and my new camera just shipped out of Houston today - one day ahead of Hurricane Rita!
Yikes!
There it is.
I saw ~Insanity-is-a-gift''s photo shoot with his younger brother and it reminded me that it is always dicey shooting kids. It put me in the frame of mind that I need to be in, for a shoot with a 4 year old on Friday.
After having a childrens book sit on the back burner for 2 years, I am finally getting around to doing the illo's and some of the elements are photo manipulated.
I meet with the collaborator again, tomorrow-Thursday, and I hope that she likes where I am going with the imagery.
Granted, no "normal" publisher will publish it, and no "Inspirational Publisher" will publish it, because it is just on the fringes of marketability for either genre. But I can't let that stop me/us.
It has its place.
It has a message.
I used to teach the story to kids in schools, after I survived an auto accident and a surgery gone wrong.
I lay in bed, seemingly "unconscious", but VERY aware of my srroundings and people in the room.
I just couldn't "wake up."
I couldn't come out of it for days.
What started out as terrifying, ended up as peaceful and beautiful, and became a story of encouragement that I could share with my students, via oral story telling.
A childrens book author offered to help me take the story from oral to written, and it has become a childrens picture book. The ideal illustrator, while expressing interest, was unable to take on the task, as I could not pay up front, and the illustrator had a family to feed. It is understandable for I, myself, am in the same position.
As it happened, I came to decide that I would just have to buckle down and find a way to do the illo's myself.
Anyway...thats more than I intended to share...but I started making this journal entry and it just all came out.
It's more than any of you wanted to know, to be sure.
Still...there it is. So if I seem negligent or out of touch, I am not being aloof, I am just busy with a shooting schedule, and my new camera just shipped out of Houston today - one day ahead of Hurricane Rita!
Yikes!
There it is.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Working away
SO I got a call to come and fetch my unwanted items downat a local church. They were remodeling the sanctuary and they were going to take these old light fixtures to the dump.
Instead of the dump, they are now being Prisoner/Rover style candle lanterns in my studio and also subjects/props for some photo shoots this year.
One man's trash is another man's treasure.
Instead of the dump, they are now being Prisoner/Rover style candle lanterns in my studio and also subjects/props for some photo shoots this year.
You may have to click on the image to reveal it at full size.
One man's trash is another man's treasure.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
SOUNDS Update
The SOUNDS link in the sidebar has been updated.
It is a SERIOUS download - 4MB.
The Music of 12th Century's Hildegard von Bingen.
***See previous post***
It is a SERIOUS download - 4MB.
The Music of 12th Century's Hildegard von Bingen.
***See previous post***
12th Century Nun is conduit for the music of the Heavens
The Music of Hildegard von Bingen.
In honour of my search in to early church roots, I will share the very large (4MB) wav file. Let me begin by saying that this particular rendition was recorded in the mid 1980’s and therefore reflects the style of that era. Even so, if you just focus on the ear-bending vocal music, her trademark 1-5-8 (octave-fifth-octave) leaps, you can see what a gifted artist Hildegard von Bingen was.
Hildegard von Bingen was the 10th child born into a noble German family in the year 1097. She was given as a tithe to the church at the age of 8. She was a frail child and subject to frequent debilitating sickness, but was a unique and gifted child. She saw visions at an early age, but did not speak of them. She eventually became the Abbess in the year 1136. After a life threatening illness, she writes,” when I was 42 years and seven months old, a burning light of tremendous brightness poured into my entire mind, like a flame that does not burn but enkindles. It inflamed my entire heart and breast, like the sun that warms and object with its rays. All at once, I was able to taste of the understanding of books – the Psalter, the Evangelists and the books of the Old and New Testaments.”
I find it encouraging, because here was a woman, sickly, and serving piously all of her life. Creating art, as God led her to do in her environment. In a day and age when women were not valued in such ways, she did what she did. And it was not until her 40’s that she received even greater insight into the workings of God, and she ran with it.
I just think it is cool.
The Music of Hildegard von Bingen, 12th Century.
From the CD “Vision”, by Richard Souther.
I will post all of the lyrics that I have so far in the comments section directly following this post. Please bear in mind that they are incomplete - missing a verse, for the time being. As soon as I figure out which verse is the missing one, I will post it.
In honour of my search in to early church roots, I will share the very large (4MB) wav file. Let me begin by saying that this particular rendition was recorded in the mid 1980’s and therefore reflects the style of that era. Even so, if you just focus on the ear-bending vocal music, her trademark 1-5-8 (octave-fifth-octave) leaps, you can see what a gifted artist Hildegard von Bingen was.
Hildegard von Bingen was the 10th child born into a noble German family in the year 1097. She was given as a tithe to the church at the age of 8. She was a frail child and subject to frequent debilitating sickness, but was a unique and gifted child. She saw visions at an early age, but did not speak of them. She eventually became the Abbess in the year 1136. After a life threatening illness, she writes,” when I was 42 years and seven months old, a burning light of tremendous brightness poured into my entire mind, like a flame that does not burn but enkindles. It inflamed my entire heart and breast, like the sun that warms and object with its rays. All at once, I was able to taste of the understanding of books – the Psalter, the Evangelists and the books of the Old and New Testaments.”
I find it encouraging, because here was a woman, sickly, and serving piously all of her life. Creating art, as God led her to do in her environment. In a day and age when women were not valued in such ways, she did what she did. And it was not until her 40’s that she received even greater insight into the workings of God, and she ran with it.
I just think it is cool.
The Music of Hildegard von Bingen, 12th Century.
From the CD “Vision”, by Richard Souther.
I will post all of the lyrics that I have so far in the comments section directly following this post. Please bear in mind that they are incomplete - missing a verse, for the time being. As soon as I figure out which verse is the missing one, I will post it.
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
Christian Medievalism and the Early Celtic Church
(The concepts put forth in this post are subject to change, considering I am only half finished reading the book I will mention: Angels in the Architecture.)
Interesting.
In the last two months I seem pointed in the direction of studying the “Early Church” as it sprouted, bloomed and was cast forth out of the British Isles and seems to have hidden roots yet, deep and strong.
Pete B has inspired me, with his accounting of his experiences in the Margaree Valley Church in N.S. He has inspired me with his reports on the English church in Sheffield.
Anybody who knows me, knows I detest “Christian literature,” even after my stint at a large Christian publishing house. I stopped reading Christian books about 5 years after I decided to do things Gods way. The only exception to that was the book “Addicted to Mediocrity,” by Frankie Schaeffer. It is about the arts. It also touches on the atrocities committed on the arts community by the Victorian sensibilities and that era’s version of Christianity in Western Culture. It is an awesome, life changing book for any creative person, (writing, painting, sculpting, musician what-ever) who also loves God, and hates the unspoken constricting messages sent to its own by the “modern” church.
I say read your bible, but also read this one if you can find it and be FREE!
;o)
But I digress……
People in church say, “oh, did you read so-and-so’s book?”
“No. I reply. I do not read Christian books, because every wind of doctrine blows through them. I read my bible. It is a Christian Book too, maybe you didn’t know that?”
If they have a brain, that comment pisses them off, renewing my appreciation for them in even a small way. If it doesn’t piss them off, then I don’t really worry.
So, here I am fulfilling my Garage-Sale addiction and I find this book.
It is on Christian Medievalism.
Words I never put together before but seem perfectly joined and supporting what I have learned from my interaction with Pete.
So my curiousity is piqued.
It is an AWESOME book!
It is entitled, “Angels in the Architecture.”
I will write more after I have read it through a few more times. (5-6 times)
So far, I have gleaned the following, which addresses ideas and concepts that I have secretly held in my head/heart for a long time, and only now seems confronted and confirmed by another source:
My gleanings are as follows:
With all the new interest in seeking out ancient Celticism, people seem so willing to jump over 1400 + years of recorded Christian history and slide back into the beliefs that held the people in fear for millennia. The ancient Celts knew a good thing when they saw it. When they compared their belief system of the day, to what was offered to them by Christianity, they pretty much said, “this is a God we want to serve.”
In essence, from their “educated” perspective, having lived wicca, druidism and all of its counterparts, they opted pretty agreeably for Christ and His loving ways.
To them, this was the “good life.”
And so it was.
The church has not always been a money grubbing, abusive, “hold you back so I can get ahead” monster that is purveyed in todays media. And some of it rightly so, I will concede, after all, people ARE human, and the church is made of people.
Many atrocities have been committed in the name of Christ. Too many, and I know your mind is already ripe with the imagery and names, so I am not going to go there.
The point is, if you truly look with open eyes, mind and heart, the monastic life and early church was all it was designed to be.
This is what draws me to the early celtic monastic mindset:
How did the monasteries work at first?
You were given to the monastery, or visited one of your own accord.
If you needed food, you were fed.
If you needed shelter, you were welcomed.
If you hung around to observe the way of life, you were allowed.
If you liked what you saw, you emulated.
If you were disinclined, you were free to leave, and missed when you left.
If you wanted to, you could join the order, if you didn’t want to, you took what you learned to your village and home and practiced the same.
Are these not examples of how Christ Himself directed his disciples?
This is what was lived out in the early church, and these are the activities that set the early Celtic Church apart, appealing to the demon-abused populace who were accustomed to seeking all the livelong day, ways to placate or not piss off the spirits of the world.
They lived in fear.
Christianity was the rescue , and they took hold of it happily.
I do not understand how so called “intelligent” people think they are now suddenly wiser than the people who lived through it. Opting to go back to the dark ways, and passing by as though it were dung, the truths which the early ones worked so hard for centuries to preserve.
Oh man you are so small.
Why do you not heed the words of the elders you profess to honour.
Interesting.
In the last two months I seem pointed in the direction of studying the “Early Church” as it sprouted, bloomed and was cast forth out of the British Isles and seems to have hidden roots yet, deep and strong.
Pete B has inspired me, with his accounting of his experiences in the Margaree Valley Church in N.S. He has inspired me with his reports on the English church in Sheffield.
Anybody who knows me, knows I detest “Christian literature,” even after my stint at a large Christian publishing house. I stopped reading Christian books about 5 years after I decided to do things Gods way. The only exception to that was the book “Addicted to Mediocrity,” by Frankie Schaeffer. It is about the arts. It also touches on the atrocities committed on the arts community by the Victorian sensibilities and that era’s version of Christianity in Western Culture. It is an awesome, life changing book for any creative person, (writing, painting, sculpting, musician what-ever) who also loves God, and hates the unspoken constricting messages sent to its own by the “modern” church.
I say read your bible, but also read this one if you can find it and be FREE!
;o)
But I digress……
People in church say, “oh, did you read so-and-so’s book?”
“No. I reply. I do not read Christian books, because every wind of doctrine blows through them. I read my bible. It is a Christian Book too, maybe you didn’t know that?”
If they have a brain, that comment pisses them off, renewing my appreciation for them in even a small way. If it doesn’t piss them off, then I don’t really worry.
So, here I am fulfilling my Garage-Sale addiction and I find this book.
It is on Christian Medievalism.
Words I never put together before but seem perfectly joined and supporting what I have learned from my interaction with Pete.
So my curiousity is piqued.
It is an AWESOME book!
It is entitled, “Angels in the Architecture.”
I will write more after I have read it through a few more times. (5-6 times)
So far, I have gleaned the following, which addresses ideas and concepts that I have secretly held in my head/heart for a long time, and only now seems confronted and confirmed by another source:
My gleanings are as follows:
With all the new interest in seeking out ancient Celticism, people seem so willing to jump over 1400 + years of recorded Christian history and slide back into the beliefs that held the people in fear for millennia. The ancient Celts knew a good thing when they saw it. When they compared their belief system of the day, to what was offered to them by Christianity, they pretty much said, “this is a God we want to serve.”
In essence, from their “educated” perspective, having lived wicca, druidism and all of its counterparts, they opted pretty agreeably for Christ and His loving ways.
To them, this was the “good life.”
And so it was.
The church has not always been a money grubbing, abusive, “hold you back so I can get ahead” monster that is purveyed in todays media. And some of it rightly so, I will concede, after all, people ARE human, and the church is made of people.
Many atrocities have been committed in the name of Christ. Too many, and I know your mind is already ripe with the imagery and names, so I am not going to go there.
The point is, if you truly look with open eyes, mind and heart, the monastic life and early church was all it was designed to be.
This is what draws me to the early celtic monastic mindset:
How did the monasteries work at first?
You were given to the monastery, or visited one of your own accord.
If you needed food, you were fed.
If you needed shelter, you were welcomed.
If you hung around to observe the way of life, you were allowed.
If you liked what you saw, you emulated.
If you were disinclined, you were free to leave, and missed when you left.
If you wanted to, you could join the order, if you didn’t want to, you took what you learned to your village and home and practiced the same.
Are these not examples of how Christ Himself directed his disciples?
This is what was lived out in the early church, and these are the activities that set the early Celtic Church apart, appealing to the demon-abused populace who were accustomed to seeking all the livelong day, ways to placate or not piss off the spirits of the world.
They lived in fear.
Christianity was the rescue , and they took hold of it happily.
I do not understand how so called “intelligent” people think they are now suddenly wiser than the people who lived through it. Opting to go back to the dark ways, and passing by as though it were dung, the truths which the early ones worked so hard for centuries to preserve.
Oh man you are so small.
Why do you not heed the words of the elders you profess to honour.
Basket Full of Random
If there is one thing I have learned from The Pratt, it is that one can compile seemingly unrelated and/or meaningless blurbs in a post and it is still readable.
Granted, what works for him, likely will not for me, but I am not letting THAT stop me.
0):
Why?
Because I can.
1):
Michelle, remember these words.
Tattoo them to your forehead.
Repeat them aloud: “Never. Never ever again. Ever.”
2):
Am I supposed to be doing this?
When I am doing digital art, I am frequently heard to mutter:
“STOOpid maCHINE!”
When I am painting, I am most often:
Quiet, prayerful, peaceful, thoughtful, at rest.
Does this mean I am *supposed* to be doing this, or perhaps it is more the natural effects of painting, and many people experience the same?
3):
I know that we credit the Japanese for the invention of the Sumi-e Brush, and that is all good, but honestly, I think that God invented it when He coloured the whole earth.
Surely this is Gods own paintbrush.
It is just THAT perfect.
Goes from fine-point to fat-flat-and-smooth with the flick of a wrist.
Holds lots of paint.
It is perfect.
3b):
But so is chocolate.
When manna fell from heaven, I have a feeling it was Chocolate.
(Of course if you ask Canada, they will say it’s cheese.)
4):
What am I listening to?
Gorilaz-Feel Good Inc.
Ill Harmonics – Banana Republic
Hocus Pick- I’m So Happy.
REM-Shiny Happy People
Pretenders – Back on the Chain Gang.
“ “ “ - Where’d ya go Ohio?
Enya – May it Be.
Annie Lennox – Into the West
Brak – What Day is It?
Devo – Gates of Steel
Devo- Freedom of Choice
Devo – Mongoloid
------Notice------
The use of the number '5' is temporarily suspended until after todays "meeting."
-----End Notice-----
6):
Some friends of mine were recently involved in what we hope will only be a temporary lay-off from their jobs.
The thought occurred to me to pray for their poor wives.
While it IS fun to have your man home for a while, sometimes you say inside your head:
“This is what I DO on Mondays” (or insert other weekday as appropriate).
“Uh, this is my ‘bubble.’ (Draws circle around self with two index fingers) and right now, you are IN my bubble. K?”
“Don’t you have a lawn to mow somewhere?” (!)
Ok well, it usually happens after about a week. Two if you are a good boy.
;o)
(Oh people! Don’t you know a joke when you SEE one?)
But hey! Here is a thought:
Ladies, here is what you can do.
Is your man temporarily finding himself with too many spare moments at home? Is he beginning to cramp your style a tiny bit?
Well, use this extra set of hands and have him:
-Clean out the litter box.
-Clean out his closet and fill a bag for the thrift store. (This may keep him occupied for a full day, just exploring his old junk.)
-Have him scrub the floors. Men usually have greater upper body strength than women, so use it to your advantage. Encourage him to scrub those little spots in the vinyl flooring that you can’t seem to get out with a mop, or on your own.
-How about kill all the end-of-summer garden spiders that like to build webs up under the eaves of the house.
These are all great things that need doing and will keep him occupied on those rare moments when he might be “under foot.”
Maybe offer him a snack and a nap in the afternoon?
NO!
That WAS a terrible rant.
And honestly, it was pretty demeaning and rude.
My apologies for that element.
But it was a free association moment.
Sometimes I can’t help but push the limits of humour.
0): Reprise
Why?
Because I can.
Granted, what works for him, likely will not for me, but I am not letting THAT stop me.
0):
Why?
Because I can.
1):
Michelle, remember these words.
Tattoo them to your forehead.
Repeat them aloud: “Never. Never ever again. Ever.”
2):
Am I supposed to be doing this?
When I am doing digital art, I am frequently heard to mutter:
“STOOpid maCHINE!”
When I am painting, I am most often:
Quiet, prayerful, peaceful, thoughtful, at rest.
Does this mean I am *supposed* to be doing this, or perhaps it is more the natural effects of painting, and many people experience the same?
3):
I know that we credit the Japanese for the invention of the Sumi-e Brush, and that is all good, but honestly, I think that God invented it when He coloured the whole earth.
Surely this is Gods own paintbrush.
It is just THAT perfect.
Goes from fine-point to fat-flat-and-smooth with the flick of a wrist.
Holds lots of paint.
It is perfect.
3b):
But so is chocolate.
When manna fell from heaven, I have a feeling it was Chocolate.
(Of course if you ask Canada, they will say it’s cheese.)
4):
What am I listening to?
Gorilaz-Feel Good Inc.
Ill Harmonics – Banana Republic
Hocus Pick- I’m So Happy.
REM-Shiny Happy People
Pretenders – Back on the Chain Gang.
“ “ “ - Where’d ya go Ohio?
Enya – May it Be.
Annie Lennox – Into the West
Brak – What Day is It?
Devo – Gates of Steel
Devo- Freedom of Choice
Devo – Mongoloid
------Notice------
The use of the number '5' is temporarily suspended until after todays "meeting."
-----End Notice-----
6):
Some friends of mine were recently involved in what we hope will only be a temporary lay-off from their jobs.
The thought occurred to me to pray for their poor wives.
While it IS fun to have your man home for a while, sometimes you say inside your head:
“This is what I DO on Mondays” (or insert other weekday as appropriate).
“Uh, this is my ‘bubble.’ (Draws circle around self with two index fingers) and right now, you are IN my bubble. K?”
“Don’t you have a lawn to mow somewhere?” (!)
Ok well, it usually happens after about a week. Two if you are a good boy.
;o)
(Oh people! Don’t you know a joke when you SEE one?)
But hey! Here is a thought:
Ladies, here is what you can do.
Is your man temporarily finding himself with too many spare moments at home? Is he beginning to cramp your style a tiny bit?
Well, use this extra set of hands and have him:
-Clean out the litter box.
-Clean out his closet and fill a bag for the thrift store. (This may keep him occupied for a full day, just exploring his old junk.)
-Have him scrub the floors. Men usually have greater upper body strength than women, so use it to your advantage. Encourage him to scrub those little spots in the vinyl flooring that you can’t seem to get out with a mop, or on your own.
-How about kill all the end-of-summer garden spiders that like to build webs up under the eaves of the house.
These are all great things that need doing and will keep him occupied on those rare moments when he might be “under foot.”
Maybe offer him a snack and a nap in the afternoon?
NO!
That WAS a terrible rant.
And honestly, it was pretty demeaning and rude.
My apologies for that element.
But it was a free association moment.
Sometimes I can’t help but push the limits of humour.
0): Reprise
Why?
Because I can.
Sunday, September 4, 2005
Allegory, metaphor, analogy, fantasy twilight zone
This is a fairly unedited, allegory that I composed in my head today on the long drive to Portland and back.
(6 hours of high-speed-passing-lane-hijinks, and car-food fun.)
I pondered sending it to the lyst, but probably won't because it is:
a). unedited.
b). requires that one make extreme mental leaps, that match precisely my own mental gymnastics in order to comprehend, as IF that is ever gonna happen. ;o)
c). it is probably an over-emotionalization of things that were, are or may yet be.
Take into consideration, I was listening to The Lordof the Rings Sound Track at the time this came ot me, and listening mainly to Enya sing "May it Be," and Annie Lennox sing "Into the West."
;o)
But anyway, I am going to digress out into fantasyland - twilight zone, and toss out this metaphorical allegory thingie, that I imagined as I pondered our Myst Community, it's humble beginnings and what has transpired in the last few years/weeks/days/months/something:
(so basically I am venting weirdly.)
(How is THAT for a set up?)
;o)
Leave now if you hate metaphors, allegory, and analogy.
Run while you can!
-------------------------------------------
Today I remembered a question.
Not a question asked of me, but of a little boy by his grandmother:
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see a City.
Where there was once an empty wasteland, there is now a City, set upon a hill.
The City, fashioned out of Words and Ether, has taken on flesh and bone.
The walls behind which the City took refuge, are no longer.
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see a Little Tree.
The sheltering walls of the greenhouse have been taken away.
It's leaves flutter desperately as in a gale,
But it is only the caress of the evening breeze.
Though the sun has faded, the pale twilight dances among the leaves,
And the air around them is illuminated.
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see the City on the hill.
Its light shines out across the land in the setting sun.
Vulnerable, not knowing the strength within.
The light, which shines out from the City, is its love of the pursuit of wisdom, honour, truth and beauty.
It beckons those wandering in the vastness, and its citizens encourage those who come to take shelter beneath the branches of the Little Tree.
(6 hours of high-speed-passing-lane-hijinks, and car-food fun.)
I pondered sending it to the lyst, but probably won't because it is:
a). unedited.
b). requires that one make extreme mental leaps, that match precisely my own mental gymnastics in order to comprehend, as IF that is ever gonna happen. ;o)
c). it is probably an over-emotionalization of things that were, are or may yet be.
Take into consideration, I was listening to The Lordof the Rings Sound Track at the time this came ot me, and listening mainly to Enya sing "May it Be," and Annie Lennox sing "Into the West."
;o)
But anyway, I am going to digress out into fantasyland - twilight zone, and toss out this metaphorical allegory thingie, that I imagined as I pondered our Myst Community, it's humble beginnings and what has transpired in the last few years/weeks/days/months/something:
(so basically I am venting weirdly.)
(How is THAT for a set up?)
;o)
Leave now if you hate metaphors, allegory, and analogy.
Run while you can!
-------------------------------------------
Today I remembered a question.
Not a question asked of me, but of a little boy by his grandmother:
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see a City.
Where there was once an empty wasteland, there is now a City, set upon a hill.
The City, fashioned out of Words and Ether, has taken on flesh and bone.
The walls behind which the City took refuge, are no longer.
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see a Little Tree.
The sheltering walls of the greenhouse have been taken away.
It's leaves flutter desperately as in a gale,
But it is only the caress of the evening breeze.
Though the sun has faded, the pale twilight dances among the leaves,
And the air around them is illuminated.
"Look Atrus. Tell me, what do you see?"
I see the City on the hill.
Its light shines out across the land in the setting sun.
Vulnerable, not knowing the strength within.
The light, which shines out from the City, is its love of the pursuit of wisdom, honour, truth and beauty.
It beckons those wandering in the vastness, and its citizens encourage those who come to take shelter beneath the branches of the Little Tree.
Friday, September 2, 2005
Black Thursday comes and goes...
...and the sun still rises.
There are new days ahead.
My gut response is, Grab All the People and Circle the Wagons.
Get every ones email address and keep a mega lyst.
But now I just do NOT know.
The days are changing.
I pretty much quit going to CC regularly a while back, hanging more in Lyst Chat, and at
theonering.net in Barliman's.
But now, I think of all the people who were mere tots when I first met them online and now many are grown up even. I see others that are so dear and like cyber kids of my own just like the now-older ones.
My concern is that we all hang together, and yet, inevitably there will be fading.
So many memories.
I guess the only consolation I yself can take in partings, is holding on to the hope that someday I will see people in eternity, if I don't see or hear from them again in this life.
After many partings, this is the only consolation I can find and hold on to.
Good byes are impossible.
They are for me at least.
The most rotten two words on the face of the planet.
(Besides "Balance Due.")
This is a phrase straight from the bowels of Hell itself, because originally God never designed us to have to say them.
I NEVER say them at Mysterium.
I NEVER say them when friends move far away.
I NEVER say them at the end of the evening, in the pub when we all depart.
I NEVER say them at the end of a phone conversation even.
I sometimes think I would rather face death, than to utter such horrible words as "good" and "bye" in the same breath.
May I never say them.
May I say, "see you later," or may I leave early.
But never "good" and uh...that other word.
Evil words, those.
To my Cyan friends, I have no fear that you will ALL find a wonderful new place to employ your many gifts. You are all so talented. Perhaps some of you will moveinto the film/production industry.
Maybe I'll "see you later."
:o)
mih-
who is Maranwe in Barliman's
There are new days ahead.
My gut response is, Grab All the People and Circle the Wagons.
Get every ones email address and keep a mega lyst.
But now I just do NOT know.
The days are changing.
I pretty much quit going to CC regularly a while back, hanging more in Lyst Chat, and at
theonering.net in Barliman's.
But now, I think of all the people who were mere tots when I first met them online and now many are grown up even. I see others that are so dear and like cyber kids of my own just like the now-older ones.
My concern is that we all hang together, and yet, inevitably there will be fading.
So many memories.
I guess the only consolation I yself can take in partings, is holding on to the hope that someday I will see people in eternity, if I don't see or hear from them again in this life.
After many partings, this is the only consolation I can find and hold on to.
Good byes are impossible.
They are for me at least.
The most rotten two words on the face of the planet.
(Besides "Balance Due.")
This is a phrase straight from the bowels of Hell itself, because originally God never designed us to have to say them.
I NEVER say them at Mysterium.
I NEVER say them when friends move far away.
I NEVER say them at the end of the evening, in the pub when we all depart.
I NEVER say them at the end of a phone conversation even.
I sometimes think I would rather face death, than to utter such horrible words as "good" and "bye" in the same breath.
May I never say them.
May I say, "see you later," or may I leave early.
But never "good" and uh...that other word.
Evil words, those.
To my Cyan friends, I have no fear that you will ALL find a wonderful new place to employ your many gifts. You are all so talented. Perhaps some of you will moveinto the film/production industry.
Maybe I'll "see you later."
:o)
mih-
who is Maranwe in Barliman's
And the Cry went forth, Where is Aid, you lazy FEMA
First off, make sure you understand that I am NOT minimizing the horrific situation going on right now in our own New Orleans wrought by the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
Why is the amount of aid needed to save lives not available in full at this moment in N.O. and Johnny-on-the-spot?
Wake up America!
This is how huge portions of the rest of the world live on a daily basis –dying hourly because there is no water, food or medicine.
The US government is not made up of Gods, super heroes, or even miracle workers. These things take at least SOME time.
There are logistical issues at work here that are not minimized just because the need is dire.
Mobilizing men, acquiring and transporting supplies such as food, water, medicine and clothing require that Gas also be transported to the staging areas to move the food, water, medicine and clothing to the areas needed, and if the roads are not in place that further hampers the efforts.
And let us also look at a small percentage of the multitudes of citizens of N.O.?
A few are ruining it for everyone else. Criminals are loose among the people.
Many of them are hindering the Aid work itself because of their lawlessness.
So I would not blame the government/FEMA.
I would say, “Welcome to the rest of the world, America.”
This is how people live, in the regions where you buy your diamonds.
This is how people live in the dumps, in the nations where you buy your drugs.
This is how people live in the places where you buy and procure goods and discard them later.
This is how people live in the rest of the world.
You are not more honourable than the rest of the world.
You are human.
And you are at the mercy of the earth and its forces like every one else.
And so are those who try to rescue.
You are human.
You are at the mercy of the whims, generosity and cruelty of your fellow human beings – just like the rest of the world.
And so are those who try to rescue.
And American's, you are so pathetically addicted to instant gratification and immediate comfort.
You are not more special America, and you are as vulnerable as the rest of humanity, who lives in lesser conditions and is made of much more honourable stuff (apparently?) than you.
Where is aid?
It is on its way.
The only people who have good reason to cry out in agony and terror are the people currently stranded in N.O.
For the rest of us, it is just frustration and self projecting indignance, and what would be best for the restof America to do is to shut up and be helpful, rather than
point the finger when a tragedy like this occurs.
And it is always easiest to blame first, the people who are trying to be helpful, in this case, it happens to be FEMA.
Just like always, the American population expects/demands a quick fix.
Why is the amount of aid needed to save lives not available in full at this moment in N.O. and Johnny-on-the-spot?
Wake up America!
This is how huge portions of the rest of the world live on a daily basis –dying hourly because there is no water, food or medicine.
The US government is not made up of Gods, super heroes, or even miracle workers. These things take at least SOME time.
There are logistical issues at work here that are not minimized just because the need is dire.
Mobilizing men, acquiring and transporting supplies such as food, water, medicine and clothing require that Gas also be transported to the staging areas to move the food, water, medicine and clothing to the areas needed, and if the roads are not in place that further hampers the efforts.
And let us also look at a small percentage of the multitudes of citizens of N.O.?
A few are ruining it for everyone else. Criminals are loose among the people.
Many of them are hindering the Aid work itself because of their lawlessness.
So I would not blame the government/FEMA.
I would say, “Welcome to the rest of the world, America.”
This is how people live, in the regions where you buy your diamonds.
This is how people live in the dumps, in the nations where you buy your drugs.
This is how people live in the places where you buy and procure goods and discard them later.
This is how people live in the rest of the world.
You are not more honourable than the rest of the world.
You are human.
And you are at the mercy of the earth and its forces like every one else.
And so are those who try to rescue.
You are human.
You are at the mercy of the whims, generosity and cruelty of your fellow human beings – just like the rest of the world.
And so are those who try to rescue.
And American's, you are so pathetically addicted to instant gratification and immediate comfort.
You are not more special America, and you are as vulnerable as the rest of humanity, who lives in lesser conditions and is made of much more honourable stuff (apparently?) than you.
Where is aid?
It is on its way.
The only people who have good reason to cry out in agony and terror are the people currently stranded in N.O.
For the rest of us, it is just frustration and self projecting indignance, and what would be best for the restof America to do is to shut up and be helpful, rather than
point the finger when a tragedy like this occurs.
And it is always easiest to blame first, the people who are trying to be helpful, in this case, it happens to be FEMA.
Just like always, the American population expects/demands a quick fix.
And in situations like these, there is no such thing.
American's, do you imagine that more aid was available in such short order after the Sunami's?
Our friends in N.O. are suffering in the same manner as those in the areas stricken by the sunami's.
When cataclysms occur, not even the government is strong enough to rescue immediately.
Not even here in America.
Welcome to the rest of the world, USA.
Remember what I said to begin with: make sure you understand that I am NOT minimizing the horrific situation going on right now in our own New Orleans, wrought by the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Monday Monday
-Wondering how my nephew in Biloxi has faired.
-Did the ever-dreaded back-to-school supply shopping today.
-Updated the DulciNET jam tune for this week.
-Got a poop-load of portraits that people want "adjusted" in PS.
One mom wanted all record of her sons blemishes erased. Honestly, I don't see any, but...I think she is "like that" anyway. Poor kid!
I go to pick up Blake from Camp tomorrow. He will be home for good now that camp shuts down. They finished clean up on Saturday and then all went down to Tillamook (Famous Cheese factory town) for a staff retreat. Then I will have mountains of crusty, skanky, post-camp laundry to do before the first day of school on Thursday.
School Rant
Now it wouldn't be August without Michelle going off on a rant regarding the state of public education, so sit down, shut up and buckle up, cuz here we go:
The new (NEW!!!!) super intendent of our school district decided at the beginning of the summer that the schools should start here a week early. The businesses in town were pissed, because this is a huge revenue week for them before the advent of winter, and this removes half of their labour force during that crucial week. This super intendent has alot ot learn. He is the kind of administrator that believes parents are all idiots, and they should just shut up and do what they are told, because the school employs "Proper Trained Educators" who know better than a parent, what their child should be taught and learn and believe.
He is an excellent reminder to me, of why I chose to keep my kids out of the public system.
The Proper Educators:
-Who else gets a job where they are guaranteed employement despite their work ethic?
(Called "Tenure")
-Who else gets 3 months paid off per year during the summer?
I am a firm believer that tenure should be abolished straight away. Then we would see some serious changes in the school system. Teachers who don't teach and who don't give a rip, would be in dire straights - and well they should be.
And here is an interesting factoid:
Private school expensive? (Without vouchers, yes it is.
I would like to have my tax $$ back to pay for it thank you very much.)
EXPERIMENT:
Just see how much it would cost you to send your kid out of district to a different public school without the blessing of the current district they are in? Then compare the cost of the public schools flat tuition to that of your average private school.
GUESS WHAT?
- It's cheaper to attend a private school than it is to attend a public school.
And, the private school generally offers a better education - provided the teachers are all state certified and the private school is accredited.
If vouchers for education were permitted, you would also see severe panic and subsequent change in the public school systems. For the better!
No.
I do not believe more money is needed for our schools.
I believe accountability is needed.
These people owe us an explanation and an account for what they are using our tax dollars for in the name of our children.
The NEA sucks, and is a pack of self serving lying Bast......uhm, buggers!
They hit us where our hearts lie: the benefit of our children - when really that is very often not what is their true underlying concern.
There are few jewels in the educational system crown.
They are the few, individual teachers, sprnkled though out each district, who actually care about students, and are willing to work with the parents to achieve the best possible outcomes for the kids.
That is my story and I'm stickin' to it!
;o)
-Did the ever-dreaded back-to-school supply shopping today.
-Updated the DulciNET jam tune for this week.
-Got a poop-load of portraits that people want "adjusted" in PS.
One mom wanted all record of her sons blemishes erased. Honestly, I don't see any, but...I think she is "like that" anyway. Poor kid!
I go to pick up Blake from Camp tomorrow. He will be home for good now that camp shuts down. They finished clean up on Saturday and then all went down to Tillamook (Famous Cheese factory town) for a staff retreat. Then I will have mountains of crusty, skanky, post-camp laundry to do before the first day of school on Thursday.
School Rant
Now it wouldn't be August without Michelle going off on a rant regarding the state of public education, so sit down, shut up and buckle up, cuz here we go:
The new (NEW!!!!) super intendent of our school district decided at the beginning of the summer that the schools should start here a week early. The businesses in town were pissed, because this is a huge revenue week for them before the advent of winter, and this removes half of their labour force during that crucial week. This super intendent has alot ot learn. He is the kind of administrator that believes parents are all idiots, and they should just shut up and do what they are told, because the school employs "Proper Trained Educators" who know better than a parent, what their child should be taught and learn and believe.
He is an excellent reminder to me, of why I chose to keep my kids out of the public system.
The Proper Educators:
-Who else gets a job where they are guaranteed employement despite their work ethic?
(Called "Tenure")
-Who else gets 3 months paid off per year during the summer?
I am a firm believer that tenure should be abolished straight away. Then we would see some serious changes in the school system. Teachers who don't teach and who don't give a rip, would be in dire straights - and well they should be.
And here is an interesting factoid:
Private school expensive? (Without vouchers, yes it is.
I would like to have my tax $$ back to pay for it thank you very much.)
EXPERIMENT:
Just see how much it would cost you to send your kid out of district to a different public school without the blessing of the current district they are in? Then compare the cost of the public schools flat tuition to that of your average private school.
GUESS WHAT?
- It's cheaper to attend a private school than it is to attend a public school.
And, the private school generally offers a better education - provided the teachers are all state certified and the private school is accredited.
If vouchers for education were permitted, you would also see severe panic and subsequent change in the public school systems. For the better!
No.
I do not believe more money is needed for our schools.
I believe accountability is needed.
These people owe us an explanation and an account for what they are using our tax dollars for in the name of our children.
The NEA sucks, and is a pack of self serving lying Bast......uhm, buggers!
They hit us where our hearts lie: the benefit of our children - when really that is very often not what is their true underlying concern.
There are few jewels in the educational system crown.
They are the few, individual teachers, sprnkled though out each district, who actually care about students, and are willing to work with the parents to achieve the best possible outcomes for the kids.
That is my story and I'm stickin' to it!
;o)
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Sorry for lack of content: busy week
I got sidetracked with a last minute art project, (shown to the left) which is currently unfinished and is clocking in at a total of 486 layers. Still, it is a fun project. I got ths really cool tutorial at wetcanvas.com (thank you Lehsa!) on doing digital knotwork. I haven't used it yet, but this project was DANG HARD! and I am now certain there must be an easier way to do knotwork than the way I did this! I can see this going on for ever and I am having a hard time knowing when to stop. I am working on the Fish now, and turning him into a knotwork pattern, but with en eye toward retaining the Pacific Northwest Native Art style.Other than that, I have been busy re-processing how I want to share the News According To Scotland, aka Scotsman Journal Snippets. Granted most of the links are worthless unless one is a registered member of the Scotsman.com but still, it is interesting to read their perspective in the headlines, and see how the rest of the world processes the same kinds of things that we in America do.
The world grows smaller everyday.
At least from where I sit. (Maybe I should go on a diet?)
;o)
Monday, August 22, 2005
Amusing Movie Quote
Fiddler on the Roof.
Golde: "Ennhhh! You could DIE from such a man!"
Tevye:" If riches are a curse, then may the Good Lord smite me, and my I never recover!"
Golde: "Ennhhh! You could DIE from such a man!"
Tevye:" If riches are a curse, then may the Good Lord smite me, and my I never recover!"
Sunday, August 21, 2005
New Jam Tune to Learn
DulciNet has a new tune to learn for this week complete with audio file, PDF and ABC files.
This weeks tune is: THE ROSE TREE.
Enjoy.
This weeks tune is: THE ROSE TREE.
Enjoy.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Updated : Word From Cannon Beach
Had this "Beauty" Shot lined up right?
Early morning mist and all?
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
As I am totally focused on framing the thing, at the last minute there is a cameo appearance by America's favorite over-bred, under-brained canine: The Lab.
In the end, I decided it would make the perfect post-card:
Any way, Yesterday Blake and Andrew wanted to earn some $$ so that they could buy some more firewood to build another fire on the beach at dusk. Blake has one of those fishermens rain hats, like the Gortons Of Gloucester Fishermen wear, and Andrew has a Skipper/Captn hat.
Blake takes myIrish whistle and Andrew take a small, rusty metal bucket and they go down outside of the Mariner Market. They stand in front of the covered porch and where there are 3 benches for people to sit and rest.
The benches are labeled:
DEMOCRATS (This is the one nearest the front door of the store)
REPUBLICANS (this is the one Nearest the Street and Furthest from the door,)
and in the middle of the benches is an unmarked Green Bench.
ANYWAY, so Blake (Who can NOT play theIrish whistle) begins to toot and repeat some nebulous melodic (almost) pattern over and over and over and over and over and over again while Andrew dances and clanks the "Primer Change" in the bottom of the metal bucket in tune to the "music."
After what seemed an eternity, people began to throw money in the bucket, (more to get them to STOP I am sure.)
Anyway, the girls and I eventually ambled along and pretended we did not know them (for good reason) and we sat and "listened" for a while.
Then I loudly declared, "You Suck!" and attempted to rip the bucket out of Andrew's hands.
A wrestling match for the bucket ensued, much to the astonishment of the onlookers.
Yes.
They were bad.
Yes, horrible even, but they WERE just kids.
Who was this dreadful woman verbally abusing them?
Well I ended the mock-battle by saying "fine!" and I grabbed a couple of coins from the bottom of the bucket before beating a hasty retreat.
Blake followed and said loudly, "Uh, excuse me Maam, but we would like our nickle back please!"
"Fine!" I replied.
Ah yes...fun with the tourist trade in a small beach town.
See y'all when I get back.
Early morning mist and all?
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
As I am totally focused on framing the thing, at the last minute there is a cameo appearance by America's favorite over-bred, under-brained canine: The Lab.
In the end, I decided it would make the perfect post-card:
Any way, Yesterday Blake and Andrew wanted to earn some $$ so that they could buy some more firewood to build another fire on the beach at dusk. Blake has one of those fishermens rain hats, like the Gortons Of Gloucester Fishermen wear, and Andrew has a Skipper/Captn hat.
Blake takes myIrish whistle and Andrew take a small, rusty metal bucket and they go down outside of the Mariner Market. They stand in front of the covered porch and where there are 3 benches for people to sit and rest.
The benches are labeled:
DEMOCRATS (This is the one nearest the front door of the store)
REPUBLICANS (this is the one Nearest the Street and Furthest from the door,)
and in the middle of the benches is an unmarked Green Bench.
ANYWAY, so Blake (Who can NOT play theIrish whistle) begins to toot and repeat some nebulous melodic (almost) pattern over and over and over and over and over and over again while Andrew dances and clanks the "Primer Change" in the bottom of the metal bucket in tune to the "music."
After what seemed an eternity, people began to throw money in the bucket, (more to get them to STOP I am sure.)
Anyway, the girls and I eventually ambled along and pretended we did not know them (for good reason) and we sat and "listened" for a while.
Then I loudly declared, "You Suck!" and attempted to rip the bucket out of Andrew's hands.
A wrestling match for the bucket ensued, much to the astonishment of the onlookers.
Yes.
They were bad.
Yes, horrible even, but they WERE just kids.
Who was this dreadful woman verbally abusing them?
Well I ended the mock-battle by saying "fine!" and I grabbed a couple of coins from the bottom of the bucket before beating a hasty retreat.
Blake followed and said loudly, "Uh, excuse me Maam, but we would like our nickle back please!"
"Fine!" I replied.
Ah yes...fun with the tourist trade in a small beach town.
See y'all when I get back.
Friday, August 12, 2005
All I want for Christmas...
Are some platform Biker boots!
Ok well, anyway, my friend Amber shared these links with me and I swear! I a gonna get some of these boots. Not the pointy toe stiletto ones, but the raucus big ol' lug sole 12 buckled steel toe
'ecrasses merdes'!
Boots by Pennangalan
9 Buckle Calf Comando Boots
Bucket Muskateer Boots
Libby 8 Strap Wedge Boots
Storm L5 Wedge Boots
Storm Elevator Boots
Ok well, anyway, my friend Amber shared these links with me and I swear! I a gonna get some of these boots. Not the pointy toe stiletto ones, but the raucus big ol' lug sole 12 buckled steel toe
'ecrasses merdes'!
Boots by Pennangalan
9 Buckle Calf Comando Boots
Bucket Muskateer Boots
Libby 8 Strap Wedge Boots
Storm L5 Wedge Boots
Storm Elevator Boots
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Scoutbytes
Sometimes the weirdest stuff comes out of your kids mouths.
It's just too bizarre.
So, here are two examples taken from the last 24 hours in our home.
“Hey Mom! I just farted eggs in pots, and flowers grew,
and dead people said, "THaaaaaNK YOU!”
– Said while playing Banjo Kazooie.
“Mom, I can’t tell the difference between you and me.”
-This comment was made while watching a slideshow of recent photos taken in Eastern Washington State.
(This quote should be unnerving to her on SO MANY levels but she does not yet seem to be appropriately alarmed. She has not yet learned to cry out, "NOOO! I have become my mother!"
On the other hand, I feel pretty darned good!)
;o)
It's just too bizarre.
So, here are two examples taken from the last 24 hours in our home.
“Hey Mom! I just farted eggs in pots, and flowers grew,
and dead people said, "THaaaaaNK YOU!”
– Said while playing Banjo Kazooie.
“Mom, I can’t tell the difference between you and me.”
-This comment was made while watching a slideshow of recent photos taken in Eastern Washington State.
(This quote should be unnerving to her on SO MANY levels but she does not yet seem to be appropriately alarmed. She has not yet learned to cry out, "NOOO! I have become my mother!"
On the other hand, I feel pretty darned good!)
;o)
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
SOUNDS Update and Celtic, Folk and Olde Time Musicians Untie!
...uh, ehrm... I mean UNITE!
There is a new feature over at DulciNet which is designed to encourage Hammered Dulcimer Players. Many of theses tunes are traditional old standards, but any Celtic/Folk/Olde Time musician can benefit from a new-old tune here or there, eh?
The tunes at DulciNet are all in midi format, and played slowly and without much ornamentation for ease of learning. It also makes for a good opportunity to brush up ones ear training. For those who prefer sheet music, there are also PDF's and ABC files available.
Anyway, so the link is
http://dulcinet.blogspot.com
And the SOUNDS Link has been updated courtesy of the crew down at Cartoon Planet, so for now you can listen to a "Nugget of Joy From Zorak."
There it is.
There is a new feature over at DulciNet which is designed to encourage Hammered Dulcimer Players. Many of theses tunes are traditional old standards, but any Celtic/Folk/Olde Time musician can benefit from a new-old tune here or there, eh?
The tunes at DulciNet are all in midi format, and played slowly and without much ornamentation for ease of learning. It also makes for a good opportunity to brush up ones ear training. For those who prefer sheet music, there are also PDF's and ABC files available.
Anyway, so the link is
http://dulcinet.blogspot.com
And the SOUNDS Link has been updated courtesy of the crew down at Cartoon Planet, so for now you can listen to a "Nugget of Joy From Zorak."
There it is.
Monday, August 8, 2005
Incidental Photos From Washington State
Funny.
I had forgotten all about these.
I grabbed them really quick while in Leavenworth, Washington.
I remember thinking about a conversation I had with Chucker at last years MysteriGON and I am SURE that he would have loved visiting THIS place.
Perhaps someday he'll get his chance.
This is also a place where Blue Max might find solace from the modern/normal world.
So for my sausage-eating and beer-swilling friends, I give you :
I had forgotten all about these.
I grabbed them really quick while in Leavenworth, Washington.
I remember thinking about a conversation I had with Chucker at last years MysteriGON and I am SURE that he would have loved visiting THIS place.
Perhaps someday he'll get his chance.
This is also a place where Blue Max might find solace from the modern/normal world.
So for my sausage-eating and beer-swilling friends, I give you :
Leavenworth, Washington
Friday, August 5, 2005
Quotable Quote
Well My friend Pete B and I were discussing the heat.
90 in Philomath and all of its lovely humidity, and 107 on my butte sans lovely humidity.
He emails me and asks" is it hot enough for ya?"
"No" I reply, "please can you get some one to turn up the sun?"
As a reply, he shares a quote from some one he knows:
"You think THIS is hot?"
-God
hmmmm.....
90 in Philomath and all of its lovely humidity, and 107 on my butte sans lovely humidity.
He emails me and asks" is it hot enough for ya?"
"No" I reply, "please can you get some one to turn up the sun?"
As a reply, he shares a quote from some one he knows:
"You think THIS is hot?"
-God
hmmmm.....
Thursday, August 4, 2005
This one is really starting to grow on me now...
While looking for an abstract texture in the dead centre of this one, I managed to accidentally compose an entire shot I liked.
Yay for accidents!
Can't wait to play with this one.
:o)
Monday, August 1, 2005
Whirlwind Road Trip Rolls to a Stop
As far as the road trip was concerned, it was a good trip.
So this is pretty much what the car looked like for the entire trip:
Coffee and Cheez-Its are as crucial as petrol to any successful road trip,
and what I looked like after a two days on the road, no shower and still perky.
(Blech!)
I got a lot of stock images shot.
I will slap up a few of them here, but bear in mind these are pretty much un-processed, meaning, I haven't finished "working them over" yet. Some are just fodder for future abstract paintings, some may be a conglomeration of photo and abstract paint.
Who knows.
Got some fun pictures at Stonehenge.
Not the real one obviously, but there is a replica built in the early 1900's by a really crazy "patron of the arts" kind of guy. He turned his house into a fine arts museum, with a lot of work by French impressionists and Rodin sculptures and what not. He entertained Romanian Royalty frequently as well, all out in the absolute desolate, middle of NO WHERE! It's histerical. So anyway, out on this rocky outcropping, over looking the Columbia River is this mock-Stonghenge.
Its pretty cool.
This particular Stonehenge is a WWI memorial and at one point, an older gentleman insisted he take our pic together, much to my daughters embarrassment.
Gah!
Not a picture with her mother!
She much prefers the company of a good sword as opposed to that of dear old mum.
Had a good time at Hammered Dulcimer fest.
Handed off some Rich Mullin's music to Pete B and kept copies for myself.
I got to learn a new tune in 3 different time signatures, which Mick wrote for the workshop, entitled "Chatter Creek-Waltz-Jig-Polka" and catch a quick jam before bugging out early to get home.
Karri, Kris and I showed up early to snag some campsites, each of us witha daughter in tow. So for those fortunate enough to get there, there was Girl Camp, where:
-Scout reads her book while KiKi plays a tune in the background.
-Bri perseveres in her quest to build a legal fire in the High Cascades.
-Karri demonstrates the true meaning of "Fight Like A Girl," while Bri assists and KiKi and Erica watch from a safe distance.
Had a nice visit with some friends in Washington.
Learned a bit about "detailed work", and so I won't be harshing on myself for taking so long to complete projects - especially in PS.
(Yet another moment to look at myself and say,
"wow, I'm not looney after all!" Either that, or I am in good company.)
;o)
I also had my travel plans redirected, because my way was stupid and convoluted, and theirs was a more obvious straight route to my next destination.
I am so glad they did though, because there were a multitude of photo opp's that I never would have found, and even then, Scout got fed up with me stopping every 10 minutes to shoot this or that, so I had to pass up some stuff. I am already planning another Highway 2 trip, to pick up the stuff I missed.
I think this was taken just outside of Reardan (sp?)
I am not sure why I ended up liking this one, because none of the elements are all that compelling, but hey, it's what it is.
Not sure what I will do with it yet.
This kitchy sign I found just outside of Coulee City.
BIZARRE SIGHTINGS:
I wish I had been more observant when it started to happen but, I wasn't: There seems to be a strange fetish in Eastern Washington Small Towns. The front yards of private individuals often sport lifesize (if not life like) replica's of animals and people. Giant deer and horses, and manequins even. By the time Scout and I realised there was "something to this" it was too late and we were passing out of the Eastern side of the State and into the High Cascades. And this bizarre phenomenon seemed to halt before the foothills. Ah well, I will have to shoot these things next time around.
Note To Ry:
Remember we were talking about wheat, more wheat, and almost Endless Blue Skies on the Horizon? I have SO MANY of these! It was at this point I drove Scout crazy.
She was all, "Mom! Enough with the wheat already!"
Lots of fodder for abstracts here!
RAMADA DRILL:
Had a great time at the Ramada Inn!
6:45am, and I am awakened by a hideous piercing beeeeeeeep!
Now, if I were at HOME, I would think the fire alarm was going off.
It usually does when we make toast or boil water.
(Stupid thing!)
So I sit bolt upright, from a sound sleep, with my hands clamped over my ears, looking stupidly around the room thinking,
"Stop! I'm not boiling any water!" and looking for something to fan the air away from the ceiling alarm with.
(And yes I realise I just ended that last sentence with a presposition. Get over it.)
It suddenly dawns on me that I am not at home and this may actually be a fire drill.
All of the guests were already out in the parking lot by the time I figured this out.
Good thing there was no actual fire.
EARLY DEPARTURES:
I got a call from Stu who was called to work another gig Sunday, meaning I had to get home Saturday night so as not to leave MacKenzie all alone, so my trip ended up being cut short with my loosing a day at the Music festival. :o( Still, it was a good trip. And I am glad to be home. I can't wait to unpack my picture card reader, though I have no clue as to where I threw it in the car after I used it at the Ramada. Talking with Pete was great. His view of Celtic culture and Christianity is really unique and one I've never heard before, but it was one of those "duh!" moments when you hear something that you should have recognized long ago, but didn't, and now suddenly ideas come into much sharper focus and suddenly fit together and make greater/deeper sense.
Pete is so cool!
What a knucklehead!
Anyway, time to do laundry.
Time to sort clean junk up.
Yay.
So this is pretty much what the car looked like for the entire trip:
Coffee and Cheez-Its are as crucial as petrol to any successful road trip,
and what I looked like after a two days on the road, no shower and still perky.
(Blech!)
I got a lot of stock images shot.
I will slap up a few of them here, but bear in mind these are pretty much un-processed, meaning, I haven't finished "working them over" yet. Some are just fodder for future abstract paintings, some may be a conglomeration of photo and abstract paint.
Who knows.
Got some fun pictures at Stonehenge.
Not the real one obviously, but there is a replica built in the early 1900's by a really crazy "patron of the arts" kind of guy. He turned his house into a fine arts museum, with a lot of work by French impressionists and Rodin sculptures and what not. He entertained Romanian Royalty frequently as well, all out in the absolute desolate, middle of NO WHERE! It's histerical. So anyway, out on this rocky outcropping, over looking the Columbia River is this mock-Stonghenge.
Its pretty cool.
This particular Stonehenge is a WWI memorial and at one point, an older gentleman insisted he take our pic together, much to my daughters embarrassment.
Gah!
Not a picture with her mother!
She much prefers the company of a good sword as opposed to that of dear old mum.
Had a good time at Hammered Dulcimer fest.
Handed off some Rich Mullin's music to Pete B and kept copies for myself.
I got to learn a new tune in 3 different time signatures, which Mick wrote for the workshop, entitled "Chatter Creek-Waltz-Jig-Polka" and catch a quick jam before bugging out early to get home.
Karri, Kris and I showed up early to snag some campsites, each of us witha daughter in tow. So for those fortunate enough to get there, there was Girl Camp, where:
-Scout reads her book while KiKi plays a tune in the background.
-Bri perseveres in her quest to build a legal fire in the High Cascades.
-Karri demonstrates the true meaning of "Fight Like A Girl," while Bri assists and KiKi and Erica watch from a safe distance.
Had a nice visit with some friends in Washington.
Learned a bit about "detailed work", and so I won't be harshing on myself for taking so long to complete projects - especially in PS.
(Yet another moment to look at myself and say,
"wow, I'm not looney after all!" Either that, or I am in good company.)
;o)
I also had my travel plans redirected, because my way was stupid and convoluted, and theirs was a more obvious straight route to my next destination.
I am so glad they did though, because there were a multitude of photo opp's that I never would have found, and even then, Scout got fed up with me stopping every 10 minutes to shoot this or that, so I had to pass up some stuff. I am already planning another Highway 2 trip, to pick up the stuff I missed.
I think this was taken just outside of Reardan (sp?)
I am not sure why I ended up liking this one, because none of the elements are all that compelling, but hey, it's what it is.
Not sure what I will do with it yet.
This kitchy sign I found just outside of Coulee City.
BIZARRE SIGHTINGS:
I wish I had been more observant when it started to happen but, I wasn't: There seems to be a strange fetish in Eastern Washington Small Towns. The front yards of private individuals often sport lifesize (if not life like) replica's of animals and people. Giant deer and horses, and manequins even. By the time Scout and I realised there was "something to this" it was too late and we were passing out of the Eastern side of the State and into the High Cascades. And this bizarre phenomenon seemed to halt before the foothills. Ah well, I will have to shoot these things next time around.
Note To Ry:
Remember we were talking about wheat, more wheat, and almost Endless Blue Skies on the Horizon? I have SO MANY of these! It was at this point I drove Scout crazy.
She was all, "Mom! Enough with the wheat already!"
Lots of fodder for abstracts here!
RAMADA DRILL:
Had a great time at the Ramada Inn!
6:45am, and I am awakened by a hideous piercing beeeeeeeep!
Now, if I were at HOME, I would think the fire alarm was going off.
It usually does when we make toast or boil water.
(Stupid thing!)
So I sit bolt upright, from a sound sleep, with my hands clamped over my ears, looking stupidly around the room thinking,
"Stop! I'm not boiling any water!" and looking for something to fan the air away from the ceiling alarm with.
(And yes I realise I just ended that last sentence with a presposition. Get over it.)
It suddenly dawns on me that I am not at home and this may actually be a fire drill.
All of the guests were already out in the parking lot by the time I figured this out.
Good thing there was no actual fire.
EARLY DEPARTURES:
I got a call from Stu who was called to work another gig Sunday, meaning I had to get home Saturday night so as not to leave MacKenzie all alone, so my trip ended up being cut short with my loosing a day at the Music festival. :o( Still, it was a good trip. And I am glad to be home. I can't wait to unpack my picture card reader, though I have no clue as to where I threw it in the car after I used it at the Ramada. Talking with Pete was great. His view of Celtic culture and Christianity is really unique and one I've never heard before, but it was one of those "duh!" moments when you hear something that you should have recognized long ago, but didn't, and now suddenly ideas come into much sharper focus and suddenly fit together and make greater/deeper sense.
Pete is so cool!
What a knucklehead!
Anyway, time to do laundry.
Time to sort clean junk up.
Yay.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
The only news is Scottish
I read today how the British police apparently shot the innocent Brazilian man 8 times.
Ugh!
Can't even go there.
And today in History:
Famous playwright George Bernard Shaw was born on this day in 1856 in Dublin, Ireland. The Shaws of Dublin are said to be descended from the Highland Shaws of Aberdeenshire, a family attached to Clan MacIntosh and Clan MacPherson. To be find out more about Scotland's clans and tartans go to heritage.scotsman.com
Ugh!
Can't even go there.
And today in History:
Famous playwright George Bernard Shaw was born on this day in 1856 in Dublin, Ireland. The Shaws of Dublin are said to be descended from the Highland Shaws of Aberdeenshire, a family attached to Clan MacIntosh and Clan MacPherson. To be find out more about Scotland's clans and tartans go to heritage.scotsman.com
Monday, July 25, 2005
First Mysterium Pics so far
Well the first Mysterium '05 photo's I have seen are Ran's, which are posted here:
http://www2.mystmakers.org:808/Mysterium2005
If you find more, maybe you could post the link in the comments section for me?
10-Q!
On this day in Scotlands history:
According to some sources, on this day in 1394 King James I was born.
When he was 12 he was sent to France, but was kidnapped on the way and handed over to Henry IV of England, who demanded a ransom for his release. After 18 years of being held in England, the ransom was finally paid and James returned to Scotland to begin his reign. Read more about it at The Scotsman Journal Mirror
http://www2.mystmakers.org:808/Mysterium2005
If you find more, maybe you could post the link in the comments section for me?
10-Q!
On this day in Scotlands history:
According to some sources, on this day in 1394 King James I was born.
When he was 12 he was sent to France, but was kidnapped on the way and handed over to Henry IV of England, who demanded a ransom for his release. After 18 years of being held in England, the ransom was finally paid and James returned to Scotland to begin his reign. Read more about it at The Scotsman Journal Mirror
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Well it looks like Scout and I will get our road trip to Hammered Dulcimer Festival In Leavenworth WA after all. I have been postponing a project,while Stu has been onthe road, but now I have to buckle down as the summer gallops away. So Scout and I wil have an extended road trip,
YAY!
Its funny, I was going to take a tent, so that we could camp, since we aren't taking the truck on this one. She goes, "Oh No Mom! Let's just sleep in the car!"
I'm thinking, "you are CRAZY!" and yet, if it was just me on the trip that is precisely what I would do. So wit the exception of one night's lodging, that is what we are doing.
Neither one of us can wait to hit the road!
We are both really good at packing light.
The big stuff will be the instruments and the tech crap.
Should be fun!
4 days left until departure!
**ooo I should tell Aquila I will be out of commission for a week!***
There!
Aquila, consider yourself alerted!
;o)
AND TODAY ACCORDING TO SCOTLAND:
On this day in 1745, Charles Edward Stuart landed on the Hebridean island of Eriskay, from France. From there he went to the mainland to set out on his mission to restore a Catholic ot tht throne. Read More about Bonnie Prince Charlie by becoming a member of The Scotsman Journal or visit The Scotsman Journal Mirror.
YAY!
Its funny, I was going to take a tent, so that we could camp, since we aren't taking the truck on this one. She goes, "Oh No Mom! Let's just sleep in the car!"
I'm thinking, "you are CRAZY!" and yet, if it was just me on the trip that is precisely what I would do. So wit the exception of one night's lodging, that is what we are doing.
Neither one of us can wait to hit the road!
We are both really good at packing light.
The big stuff will be the instruments and the tech crap.
Should be fun!
4 days left until departure!
**ooo I should tell Aquila I will be out of commission for a week!***
There!
Aquila, consider yourself alerted!
;o)
AND TODAY ACCORDING TO SCOTLAND:
On this day in 1745, Charles Edward Stuart landed on the Hebridean island of Eriskay, from France. From there he went to the mainland to set out on his mission to restore a Catholic ot tht throne. Read More about Bonnie Prince Charlie by becoming a member of The Scotsman Journal or visit The Scotsman Journal Mirror.
Friday, July 22, 2005
So some one said a bunch of people from Sisters Community Church wanted a quick, down-and-dirty copy of the stuff I've been playing for communion/prayer and reflection times. I told her I hadn't been playing anything. Just noodles. So she said, "give me the noodles. So I think I am about 4 noodles away from completing that thing this week. With Stu on the road that will give me more time to get it done in relative peace and quiet. Wish I had a better mic. A real mic. Instead of this crappy cheapo one, but down-and-dirty is ok by them. I guess. Not sure that I like that idea though.
Anyway, enough 'o' dat.
BEWARE: LONG GENEALOGICAL MUSING OF NO PARTICULAR INTEREST TO ANYONE EXCEPT MY FAMILY MEMBERS READING.
So I talked to my brother. He said that while there are only three Poutré's he's been able to trace through the Veterans Admin in the US, and with the 2 existing we already know outside of that, that makes 5. However, he said that when he went down to New Olreans there was ALOT of them. He also seems to remember somebody on that side of the family had Nova Scotian roots way way back, but as far as I ever knew it was the Contois side of the family that was from Acadie.
So, the mud gets thicker. Who ever knows. The other interesting thing that we both remember, along with my dad, is that Grandmé always kept a picture of the Queen in her bedroom. I think that when Grandmé died, Memé threw it in the garbage. I am thinking that the Nova Scotians may have crossed out of NS and migrated to Quebec possibly late 1700's - early 1800's, since there are 2 women who came into the family about that time and who knows where from except that Grandmé remembers her Great Grandmé used to "talk about "Acadie," and Grandme used to tell dad about "The Land of Evangeline." Other than that I have no other hard data because the church where taht really old paperwork was housed in the Church Trois Rivieres burned to the ground. (Possible church name or town name?: St Gabriel De Brandon?)
END OF BORING GENEALOGICAL RAMBLE
and...
...on this day in Scottish history
Today is the anniversary of the battle of Falkirk where, in 1298, 80,000 of Edward I's troops faced 30,000 Scots volunteers under William Wallace. The Scots were betrayed by John Comyn, whose cavalry fled the field of battle, handing Edward victory. Wallace resigned as Guardian of Scotland, having escaped to the Continent. Read more about it by becoming a member of the Scotsman Journal or if you aren't ready to join, go to the Scotsman Journal Mirror and read about it.
Anyway, enough 'o' dat.
BEWARE: LONG GENEALOGICAL MUSING OF NO PARTICULAR INTEREST TO ANYONE EXCEPT MY FAMILY MEMBERS READING.
So I talked to my brother. He said that while there are only three Poutré's he's been able to trace through the Veterans Admin in the US, and with the 2 existing we already know outside of that, that makes 5. However, he said that when he went down to New Olreans there was ALOT of them. He also seems to remember somebody on that side of the family had Nova Scotian roots way way back, but as far as I ever knew it was the Contois side of the family that was from Acadie.
So, the mud gets thicker. Who ever knows. The other interesting thing that we both remember, along with my dad, is that Grandmé always kept a picture of the Queen in her bedroom. I think that when Grandmé died, Memé threw it in the garbage. I am thinking that the Nova Scotians may have crossed out of NS and migrated to Quebec possibly late 1700's - early 1800's, since there are 2 women who came into the family about that time and who knows where from except that Grandmé remembers her Great Grandmé used to "talk about "Acadie," and Grandme used to tell dad about "The Land of Evangeline." Other than that I have no other hard data because the church where taht really old paperwork was housed in the Church Trois Rivieres burned to the ground. (Possible church name or town name?: St Gabriel De Brandon?)
END OF BORING GENEALOGICAL RAMBLE
and...
...on this day in Scottish history
Today is the anniversary of the battle of Falkirk where, in 1298, 80,000 of Edward I's troops faced 30,000 Scots volunteers under William Wallace. The Scots were betrayed by John Comyn, whose cavalry fled the field of battle, handing Edward victory. Wallace resigned as Guardian of Scotland, having escaped to the Continent. Read more about it by becoming a member of the Scotsman Journal or if you aren't ready to join, go to the Scotsman Journal Mirror and read about it.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Today according to Scotland:
Today is the anniversary of the death in 1796 of Scotland's national bard, Robert Burns, at the age of 37. Read more.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Seeing Mysterium From Afar
Well in retrospect, it has been an interesting year.
This is the first event since I quit planning Mysterium, and is set to go off in a little more than a week and a half, and I have to say it’s been tough.
I see the kids going and I worry about who is going to over see them and make sure they don’t get lost or left behind.
"What about “so-and-so” you know this is the first time they’ve traveled on their own? "
"And with everybody so spread out a different hotels right now, who will make sure they stay all communicated together? "
Scraper is great for having eyes in the back of her head and yet she is only one person.
And Leh is pretty great in a pinch too for that kind of thing. (You guys just make sure she doesn't have to post bail for anybody and their shenanigans!) ;o)
Even so, as pissed off as I get at the Community and their lack of vision sometimes, my heart is still stuck in the Mysterium loop,
(*Points at SR388, Alahm and Chan:* you know what I'm talking 'bout!) ;o)
and I want them to all get the best of the event as it was originally designed.
It is the heart of Mysterium that counts.
It’s like letting go of a child.
Yet you are still always thinking of them, hoping that things are going perfect (not just 'good') for them because they are special.
The Mysterium Website has never been so beautiful, and many thanks for this years new design and all the updates go to Blue Max for taking on the entirety of that task, lock, stock and barrel upon himself, as well as seeing to the presenter technical needs and what not.
I am bummed that I won’t be there this year.
As fed up as I felt I was, I didn’t think I would care when the time came, and yet, this is the first year in the next 5 year cycle. (1999-2004 First Cycle).
Horizon, you will have a great time meeting the people you have chatted with in CC and corresponded with via the forums and the lysts. I wish I could see you there and share it with you. I wish also, that I could be there to share with you the histories and the wonderfulness of the people that I have come to know and love, and that you could see them through my eyes too. Sometimes their actions and behaviours are beneath them, because they are really great when you get to know them.
Sometimes it takes years to get to know how wonderful people can be.
(Conversely it takes the same amount of time to figure out they are total butt-heads too, but we need not go there now because I am busy waxing nostalgic!)
;o)
Planning the event all those years was absolute hell from tme to time.
And yet, when the event comes down and all is said and done, it’s the people, and the time you’ve spent with them face to face, that make the lasting difference.
And even people that you don’t see eye-to-eye with in CC, or the forums or whatever.
Its funny,
when you finally meet them at a Mysterium event,
and you get all the extra nuances
of communication when you see them,
anything misunderstood seems to slide away.
Finding out you may have been wrong, and finding another friend isanother important part of Mysterium.
Meeting people and seeing them as they are,
not as I perceived them to be
through some text based conversation.
I KNOW there are a lot of frustrations right now,
with the Community and with the event.
But it is all going to be great, just like always.
It certainly can’t get any worse than Carlsbad! ;o)
It is all what you (or I) as an atendee bring to it.
If we bring "good things" a happy heart, a gentle spirit, then we will find god things.
If we bring criticism and back biting then that is what we wil end up taking away.
And planning is not some “look-at-me-glory-job” either.
It is a sacrifice of time and energy and often resources.
Funny that the event itself,
usually erases any memory of that previous trevail.
I guess its kinda like childbirth.
You fret about it until it happens.
It is painful getting to the end result,
but when it is accomplished it is wonderfully joyous.
24-hour post addendum:
Well dopey me!
It has been about 2 months since I have looked at the Mysterium website, and now I see there isn't even an itinerary posted at the website. And the event is only a week away. Hmmm. that is a bit unnerving. I wonder what happened?
This is the first event since I quit planning Mysterium, and is set to go off in a little more than a week and a half, and I have to say it’s been tough.
I see the kids going and I worry about who is going to over see them and make sure they don’t get lost or left behind.
"What about “so-and-so” you know this is the first time they’ve traveled on their own? "
"And with everybody so spread out a different hotels right now, who will make sure they stay all communicated together? "
Scraper is great for having eyes in the back of her head and yet she is only one person.
And Leh is pretty great in a pinch too for that kind of thing. (You guys just make sure she doesn't have to post bail for anybody and their shenanigans!) ;o)
Even so, as pissed off as I get at the Community and their lack of vision sometimes, my heart is still stuck in the Mysterium loop,
(*Points at SR388, Alahm and Chan:* you know what I'm talking 'bout!) ;o)
and I want them to all get the best of the event as it was originally designed.
It is the heart of Mysterium that counts.
It’s like letting go of a child.
Yet you are still always thinking of them, hoping that things are going perfect (not just 'good') for them because they are special.
The Mysterium Website has never been so beautiful, and many thanks for this years new design and all the updates go to Blue Max for taking on the entirety of that task, lock, stock and barrel upon himself, as well as seeing to the presenter technical needs and what not.
I am bummed that I won’t be there this year.
As fed up as I felt I was, I didn’t think I would care when the time came, and yet, this is the first year in the next 5 year cycle. (1999-2004 First Cycle).
Horizon, you will have a great time meeting the people you have chatted with in CC and corresponded with via the forums and the lysts. I wish I could see you there and share it with you. I wish also, that I could be there to share with you the histories and the wonderfulness of the people that I have come to know and love, and that you could see them through my eyes too. Sometimes their actions and behaviours are beneath them, because they are really great when you get to know them.
Sometimes it takes years to get to know how wonderful people can be.
(Conversely it takes the same amount of time to figure out they are total butt-heads too, but we need not go there now because I am busy waxing nostalgic!)
;o)
Planning the event all those years was absolute hell from tme to time.
And yet, when the event comes down and all is said and done, it’s the people, and the time you’ve spent with them face to face, that make the lasting difference.
And even people that you don’t see eye-to-eye with in CC, or the forums or whatever.
Its funny,
when you finally meet them at a Mysterium event,
and you get all the extra nuances
of communication when you see them,
anything misunderstood seems to slide away.
Finding out you may have been wrong, and finding another friend isanother important part of Mysterium.
Meeting people and seeing them as they are,
not as I perceived them to be
through some text based conversation.
I KNOW there are a lot of frustrations right now,
with the Community and with the event.
But it is all going to be great, just like always.
It certainly can’t get any worse than Carlsbad! ;o)
It is all what you (or I) as an atendee bring to it.
If we bring "good things" a happy heart, a gentle spirit, then we will find god things.
If we bring criticism and back biting then that is what we wil end up taking away.
And planning is not some “look-at-me-glory-job” either.
It is a sacrifice of time and energy and often resources.
Funny that the event itself,
usually erases any memory of that previous trevail.
I guess its kinda like childbirth.
You fret about it until it happens.
It is painful getting to the end result,
but when it is accomplished it is wonderfully joyous.
24-hour post addendum:
Well dopey me!
It has been about 2 months since I have looked at the Mysterium website, and now I see there isn't even an itinerary posted at the website. And the event is only a week away. Hmmm. that is a bit unnerving. I wonder what happened?
stuff this monday
Devo was way ahead of their time.
(Obviously this we knew.)
And as much of a "Creatively Designed Evolutionist" as I may be, I can't help but see some light in a new way:
Devolution becomes more defined as we age.
Case in point: Someone I Live with!
Although I have yet to decipher whether it is an Ape I am living with or a Neanderthal.
(And is this really a point worth debating?)
Some mornings are just like this.
(Obviously this we knew.)
And as much of a "Creatively Designed Evolutionist" as I may be, I can't help but see some light in a new way:
Devolution becomes more defined as we age.
Case in point: Someone I Live with!
Although I have yet to decipher whether it is an Ape I am living with or a Neanderthal.
(And is this really a point worth debating?)
Some mornings are just like this.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Of Crime and Progress
A family I know has been in this town for about 3 generations.
They have farmed and been a great part of our community.
Because they farmed, they owned much land. As the years passed, the land became too expensive to keep so they put up a portion of it for sale. Great location. It was on the market for 4 years and nobody around here seemed interested in buying it.
Finally McDonalds (Yes. Big Macs) insisted that tey wanted the property. The family did not want to sell to them because they were a uge corporation etc and we are a small, family business oriented town. But the family was REALLY needing to unload this property. SO...they bargained. The family would develope the property, building the space for McD's and a small convenience store and gas station. They would rent the space to McD's. This would allow the family to insure that the spirit of the town (small western building facades/false fronts) was upheld.
Well, the idea of a McD's coming to town did not sit well with the community. There were MANY town meeting and alot of hot debates occuring in the editorial section of our small newspaper THE NUGGET NEWS. People try to pass ordinances limiting or banning franchises from opening in the town.
But the building is now ready for use and the "We're Hiring" signs have been up for 2 months now. They can't get anybody to work there.
But the big thing came this weekend, when our population soars from 10,000 to 45,000 because of the Sisters outdoor Quilt Show festival:
SETTING IT UP :
The town is filled for one weekend with 40,000 little old ladies who save up all year to come spend their money in our town. The surrounding towns within 100 miles have full hotels and b&b's because of this event.
It is also the height of Fire Season.
At 4:30 in the morning on Sunday, with a packed out town all asleep, some imbecile set fire to the new McDonalds and burned it down.
The sad thing is that McDonalds doesn't own the building, it belongs to the family.
Yes there is insurance but only after a hefty deductable.
Any perceived evils to come into town via the presence of a McDonalds are eclipsed in my mind now because of the crime that was perpetrated on one of our own families by some one in the same community.
The ends DO NOT ever justify the means.
It ticks me off, because when the news hit town on Sunday, most people's first reaction was to laugh.
How callous.
How short sighted.
Our town is supposed to be friendly and kind.
Gracious and helpful.
I don't see it right now.
I see a family who has been hurt, and a town that doesn't care about its own because it is too obsessed with its own image.
Stupid.
They are lucky the whole town didn't go up in smoke taking innocent lives with it.
They have farmed and been a great part of our community.
Because they farmed, they owned much land. As the years passed, the land became too expensive to keep so they put up a portion of it for sale. Great location. It was on the market for 4 years and nobody around here seemed interested in buying it.
Finally McDonalds (Yes. Big Macs) insisted that tey wanted the property. The family did not want to sell to them because they were a uge corporation etc and we are a small, family business oriented town. But the family was REALLY needing to unload this property. SO...they bargained. The family would develope the property, building the space for McD's and a small convenience store and gas station. They would rent the space to McD's. This would allow the family to insure that the spirit of the town (small western building facades/false fronts) was upheld.
Well, the idea of a McD's coming to town did not sit well with the community. There were MANY town meeting and alot of hot debates occuring in the editorial section of our small newspaper THE NUGGET NEWS. People try to pass ordinances limiting or banning franchises from opening in the town.
But the building is now ready for use and the "We're Hiring" signs have been up for 2 months now. They can't get anybody to work there.
But the big thing came this weekend, when our population soars from 10,000 to 45,000 because of the Sisters outdoor Quilt Show festival:
SETTING IT UP :
The town is filled for one weekend with 40,000 little old ladies who save up all year to come spend their money in our town. The surrounding towns within 100 miles have full hotels and b&b's because of this event.
It is also the height of Fire Season.
At 4:30 in the morning on Sunday, with a packed out town all asleep, some imbecile set fire to the new McDonalds and burned it down.
The sad thing is that McDonalds doesn't own the building, it belongs to the family.
Yes there is insurance but only after a hefty deductable.
Any perceived evils to come into town via the presence of a McDonalds are eclipsed in my mind now because of the crime that was perpetrated on one of our own families by some one in the same community.
The ends DO NOT ever justify the means.
It ticks me off, because when the news hit town on Sunday, most people's first reaction was to laugh.
How callous.
How short sighted.
Our town is supposed to be friendly and kind.
Gracious and helpful.
I don't see it right now.
I see a family who has been hurt, and a town that doesn't care about its own because it is too obsessed with its own image.
Stupid.
They are lucky the whole town didn't go up in smoke taking innocent lives with it.
Saturday, July 9, 2005
Ramble-Shmamble!
In a very bad French Accent:
"I ramble in your general direction!"
"Now go away or shall ramble at you a second time!"
Is This What Happens When Old People Retire?
So I quit my FT job to be more of a mom.
So that I could save that mental and emotional energy and give it to my kids when they are having their "moments" with the rest of the world.
So that I could focus more on what I am supposed to be doing - painting, music and related stuff.
And what has really happened?
Surely I am experiencing a fore-taste of what retirement is supposed to be like: Stu runs the media co out of our home office. This means that when he is not out on the road he is home.
Distracting me, bugging me when I am trying to concentrate.
I dunno but man! Art and creativity require space and time. At least for me they do.
When my kids are asleep or off doing something, that is my hallowed time to hunker down in "my space" and focus. I don't need some man coming in the middle of it, every two-bloody seconds to make small-talk.
I am going crazy! (-er?)
He doesn't grok the idea of personal space or boundaries.
How does a person say," No offense, but I need to be alone," without offending the, er...offending party?
So I have taken to getting up in the middle of the night to complete some of the work in the quiet stillness of the sleeping household. But at 2:30am I really am not always at my creative best.
He is shooting a gig for Camp Concepts in Canby next week. He wants us all to go, and I think it would be good for the girls because they would have things to do and could swim in the pool etc.
But I would really like to stay home and send him on the road so that I could get some work done while he is away.
heheh!
oh I dunno.
It's crazy.
The Art Fest
The show went well.
I put up the more eclectic images, and the people that really liked them were people that I really admired so that is happy. Of course where my booth was, there were a bunch of trad pieces like landscapes and some textile art and quilt stuf, so the people that often ended up on that side of the building were the kind who didn't "get" it.
But its all good.
Gardner was REALLY encouraging, and his work is really first rate so his praise really helped me get through the rest of the project.
Another really good thing about this set up is that I didn't have to sit in my booth. Wendy did it for me. I don't think I could have gotten through the show if I would have had to sit and watch people look at my stuff. I would have been second guessing all of their facial expressions and would have totally freaked myself out.
So, basically it was good. I see now that I must get a better camera.
There is nothing for it.
I just have to suck it up and find a way.
I started two larger abstracts last week as well, and I already know how I will finish and frame them. That is the hardest part usually. Its nice to have it all dialed-in in advance for a change. ;O)
I had a great time talking to Michael the other day.
He is one of those artists that when you look at his work your first thought is, "Wow! I am standing in the presence of greatness."
Well at least that was one of my first thoughts.
And his style has really morphed since he returned from the UK.
It is fascinating to watch.
And speaking of the UK:
Where are all of my friends?
We are waiting patiently for them all to check in with an "I am ok" update.
But with each passing day I am wondering more and more...
Soldiers Away
I keep thinking of Brianna.
Bri is a gunner in a tank in Iraq.
Many of the other soldiers she is with are from the UK.
When her mom shipped her fiddle to her, they all were so happy.
She played a couple of trad celtic/bar tunes, and drew a huge crowd of fellow soldiers, all from the UK.
I am thinking of them, far away in Iraq, while they may be worrying about friends and family back home.
How horrible it must be for them.
But Bri is on leave and back here at home in Seattle at least for a few weeks.
Maybe she will come to HD fest in Eastern Washington at the end of the month?
Maybe she will play her dad's dijeridoo again. (sp?)
Peace, Love and Gunz
Her mom is one of the sweetest, peace loving hippie's I ever knew.
She is the ultimate pacifist and threatened to kidnap her son and haul him to Canada when he enlisted. Funny that. Because now all of her kids have chosen to go to Iraq.
She said, "what did I do? Where did I go wrong?"
I had to laff.
how many parents would give their eye-teeth to be able to say that they raised their kids to be able to have, recognise and act on a firm conviction -whether the parents agreed with it or not.
So here is poor KiKi Pacifist with a passel of soldier kids.
I say that "she done good!"
They are putting shoe leather to what they think is important.
Friday, July 8, 2005
ack
Wow! I am elated!
My friend went in for emergency cancer surgery and seems to have come through it with flying colours. She is home tonight and resting well. YAY!
It has been a crazy week, helping her with some of her jobs and getting her appts set up and transpo etc, to and from the docs, but it all seems to be working out great! YAY!
I also had an impromptu call to enter some artsy-fartsy photos in a local show, so that was crazy, getting them all printed/processed and matted and framed and what not.
Crazy.
I am SO uncomfortable with people who are not Cyber-people, looking at some of my stuff.
That is weird and dumb of me, I dunno what is up with that, but that is how it is.
Anyway, two kids have been gone all week. I get to retrieve them tomorrow.
YAY!
I had a REALLY good time trading mild quips with Chucker today.
It has been a long time since there was any healthy communication and tom-foolery between my lyster friends and I. It is a soothing balm to the heart.
Dumb stuff is good.
So, it was a crazy week.
I was stretched artistically.
I was stretched physically and spiritually.
It was good.
I am SO glad that Scraper decided to re-paste up the old Mysterium page with the donation info.
I was afraid she was going to get stuck paying for a meeting room yet again.
I hope it goes well this year.
Some people seem disgruntled.
But still, in the end, it is people that make the event.
Kinda like UU, it is people who keep the city alive.
My friend went in for emergency cancer surgery and seems to have come through it with flying colours. She is home tonight and resting well. YAY!
It has been a crazy week, helping her with some of her jobs and getting her appts set up and transpo etc, to and from the docs, but it all seems to be working out great! YAY!
I also had an impromptu call to enter some artsy-fartsy photos in a local show, so that was crazy, getting them all printed/processed and matted and framed and what not.
Crazy.
I am SO uncomfortable with people who are not Cyber-people, looking at some of my stuff.
That is weird and dumb of me, I dunno what is up with that, but that is how it is.
Anyway, two kids have been gone all week. I get to retrieve them tomorrow.
YAY!
I had a REALLY good time trading mild quips with Chucker today.
It has been a long time since there was any healthy communication and tom-foolery between my lyster friends and I. It is a soothing balm to the heart.
Dumb stuff is good.
So, it was a crazy week.
I was stretched artistically.
I was stretched physically and spiritually.
It was good.
I am SO glad that Scraper decided to re-paste up the old Mysterium page with the donation info.
I was afraid she was going to get stuck paying for a meeting room yet again.
I hope it goes well this year.
Some people seem disgruntled.
But still, in the end, it is people that make the event.
Kinda like UU, it is people who keep the city alive.
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