Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Buddha's tooth


Long ago in eastern Tibet there lived an elderly widow and her son who was a trader. They spent the long winters weaving and making things so that when spring came he'd have goods to trade in India. His mother, a devoted (and maybe a bit naive) Buddhist, asked her son to bring her a relic of the Buddha to place on her altar, preferably, a tooth. The trader was often busy and each time he came back from his travels, he forgot to look for a relic for his mother.

The next time he went off, his mother said: "If you don't bring back Buddha's tooth this time, I'm going to jump off a cliff and kill myself." So he said "Ok, don't worry, this time I will make sure to bring back Buddha's tooth for your altar."

Once again while he was off on his travels he forgot to look for the holy relic his mother had begged him to find until he was only a day away from home. Very nervous, remembering what his mother had said he looked around and found a dog's skeleton. He took a tooth from the skull, cleaned it and wrapped it in a piece of beautiful gold silk brocade.

The next day when he arrived at his village he presented the gift to his mother and said "This is Buddha's tooth. Please cherish it. Take care of it. Put it on your altar."

Soon after, the trader left on yet another trip and he intended to get a genuine relic to replace the dog tooth. However, as usual, he forgot until he was on his way home. When he arrived home, he saw crowds outside his house. When he went in, he saw many people prostrating to his mother's altar. On the altar was a tooth which was radiating light. He asked his mother where this relic came from, as it was undoubtedly a genuine relic. His mother told him it was the one he brought back for her.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

spring signs


Yesterday we saw flowers that looked just like these popping out of the ground all along the paths at our favorite park. While most people are posting pictures of crocus, daffodils, cherry blossoms etc., here in Halifax these mysterious things that look a bit like dandelions are the first wildflowers of spring. They may be catsear but I'm not sure. If you happen to know what they are please let me know. Eventually we'll see all the rest - usually over the course of two weeks just before summer hits.

Lately I've been back to bead weaving bracelets. Why, I don't know - perhaps because doing something that's both complex and mechanical is soothing while the rain falls. Now if I could just figure out a way to take consistently decent pictures of them I could show you more. Then again, maybe this is enough:


Meanwhile, I found myself reading some quotes fit for any season by George Carlin. I have, however, left out the rude ones:

Swimming is not a sport. Swimming is a way to keep from drowning. That’s just common sense!

If the Cincinnati Reds were really the first major league baseball team, who did they play?

Honesty may be the best policy, but it’s important to remember that apparently, by elimination, dishonesty is the second-best policy.

Ever notice that anyone going slower than you is an idiot, but anyone going faster is a maniac?

If it’s true that our species is alone in the universe, then I’d have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little.

The very existence of flamethrowers proves that sometime, somewhere, someone said to themselves, “You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I’m just not close enough to get the job done.”

The reason I talk to myself is because I’m the only one whose answers I accept.

I put a dollar in a change machine. Nothing changed.

Here’s a bumper sticker I’d like to see: “We are the proud parents of a child who’s self-esteem is sufficient that he doesn’t need us promoting his minor scholastic achievements on the back of our car.”

I love and treasure individuals as I meet them; I loathe and despise the groups they identify with and belong to.

One great thing about getting old is that you can get out of all sorts of social obligations just by saying you’re too tired.

Nobody “owns” anything. When you die, it all stays here.

May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

medieval matters


The following snippets about the 1500s may or may not be true, but whether they are or not, I'm happy to be here and now rather than there and then:

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and still generally smelled decent by June. However, they were starting to smell a bit so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odour. That's where the custom came from.

When taking a bath the man of the house had first privilege of the big tub of hot, clean water. After him the other sons and menfolk bathed, followed by the women and finally the children - last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water."

Did you ever wonder where the term 'raining cats and dogs' came from? It turns out small animals often slept in the straw of thatched roofs. When it rained it sometimes became slippery enough that they fell off.

The fact there was nothing to stop things from falling from the thatched roof into the rooms of the house posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could make a nasty mess on the bed. Then someone came up with the idea of making tall posts with a cloth hung over the top for some protection. Apparently, that's how canopy beds came into existence.

Most people had floors made from compressed dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt and looked down on others, who they said, were 'dirt poor'. The wealthy had slate floors but these would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they kept adding more thresh until opening the door would let it all start slipping outside. A piece of wood placed in the entranceway made a 'thresh hold'.

Sometimes poorer people could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man 'could bring home the bacon'. After cutting off a little to share with guests they would all sit around and 'chew the fat'.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or 'upper crust'.

Lead cups were used for ale or whisky - a chemical combination that would sometimes knock a person out for a long time. As often as not being taken for dead they were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days where the family gathered around to eat and drink while waiting to see if they would wake up. This lead to the custom of holding a 'wake'.

England being old and small, places to bury people often ran short. After a certain time had passed coffins were dug up and the bones were taken to a 'bone house' for storage in order that the grave could be reused. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 of them were found to have scratch marks on the inside indicating they had been burying people alive. In order to prevent future incidents they thought to tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the 'graveyard shift') to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be 'saved by the bell'.

and now for something not so completely different - but still relevant:



♡ :)

Sunday, March 30, 2014

the tinker's horse


My dad was a great storyteller and this is one of his I remember from long ago. Just to give you some background, at the age when most of us were dreading our first day at high school my dad went to work in one of the coal mines of northern England. He would certainly have preferred to stay in school but, as the eldest boy once his father had died, the mines were the only place to earn money enough to feed his mother, sisters and brother.

Anyway, this story is about a man and his pony who lived in the village just before the turn of the 19th century - so likely a story my father had heard rather than one he witnessed. The man was a tinker who spent his days going round the local villages fixing things that were broken as well as buying and selling whatever came to hand. There's nothing odd in that but what was strange was that so long as the tinker himself was sitting on the cart bench his horse went to whatever village he knew to be next. The tinker never used reins. If he decided to go to a different village he simply told the horse which one and off they'd go.

In those days the miners worked six and a half days a week with just the morning off on Sunday so they could attend church. Not surprisingly, they gathered at the local pub on Saturday nights to relax and enjoy themselves. (I'm guessing not all made it to the services next morning.) Normally his horse was well cared for except for those Saturday nights the tinker spent in the pub while his horse waited patiently outside. What invariably used to happen was that the tinker would get very drunk, so much so that all he could do at the end of the evening was to climb onto his cart where he'd fall asleep. The horse could be relied upon to take him home.

Late one night when the pub had closed some of his co-revellers followed behind the horse and cart that was carrying the drunken tinker. The horse stopped in front of the dark house (the tinker lived alone). The men had decided to play a trick on the tinker. They lifted him off the cart and put him down in a comfortable spot, then they unhitched the horse. After that they took the wheels off the cart, lead the horse into the house, carried the unwheeled cart inside, put the wheels back on, hitched up the horse to the cart and, lastly, carried the unconscious tinker inside and put him back on the bench.

Next morning when he awoke they all just happened to be waiting not far from the tinker's door. He came outside rubbing his eyes and said, 'Ah elwis knew pit wes a clivvor cuddy but ah nivvor knew ha bloody clivvor til neeo.'
(I always knew he was a clever horse but I never knew how bloody clever until now.) 

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

playing with Crow


Crow and I (and a few friends) have been working on a new picture (possibly painting). This is how far we'd got by this afternoon. Since we're expecting a new blizzard tomorrow, more may be accomplished while we're stuck inside.

This morning I came across a great article in The Atlantic about an adventure playground in Wales called 'The Land'. This was not so much discovering something new as the re-discovery of something very very old. Children’s play. Those of us born in earlier times than modern children were often lucky enough to have enjoyed a lot of unstructured time as children and, if we were luckier still, there was open countryside for our games and daydreaming. More recently, children rarely have freedom from the constant scrutiny of adults.

After reading the aforementioned article I decided to investigate the woman who began the adventure playgrounds in England (there are several dozen similar to The Land), It was after WWII that Lady Allen of Hurtwood, a long time advocate for children's well-being, visited Copenhagen in 1945 where she was introduced to Emdrup, the very first deliberately made adventure playground in the world. Emdrup was the brainchild of the landscape architect C.Th Seorenssen. Even before the war, he'd been dissatisfied with the playgrounds that he had created once he noticed that children preferred to play on building sites rather than the neat municipal playgrounds that had been designed for them. These ad hoc playgrounds were messy spaces, using a lot of left over junk bits that the children found lying around and the children loved them.

Emdrup playground, established in 1943, was generally agreed to have been a benefit to the neighbourhood from the beginning. During the Nazi occupation the difference between sabotage and delinquency was not obvious, and many of the children had become unruly and anti-social. Once they had their own playground, where they could do what they liked, the surrounding social climate took a turn for the better.

Lady Allen returned from Copenhagen determined that all children would benefit from unstructured play areas and set about the business of establishing them throughout England. She had a number of interesting things to say, including, 'Better a broken leg than a broken spirit', but my favorite quote of hers was this one:

.’.. Municipal playgrounds are often as bleak as barrack squares and just as boring. You are not allowed to build a fire, you would head straight for juvenile court if you started to dig up the expensive tarmac to make a cave, there are no bricks or planks to build a house, no workshops for carpentry, mechanical work, painting or modelling and of course, no trees to climb…’

At first glance, The Land, a Welsh adventure playground, seems like a modern-day parent’s worst nightmare. The Land is riddled with what looks like trash and the walls are covered in graffiti. There are children jumping over unsteady barrels and mud puddles, and youngsters poking sticks into fires or hammering wood with (eek) sharp nails. The Land, in my opinion, is exactly what’s been missing from most childhood experiences for at least a decade now.

Anyway, what follows is a brief video introduction to a documentary called 'The Land'. Just in case you wonder these places do have adults lurking in case of need but so far there have been no serious injuries to anyone at an adventure playground.

The Land, Promo from Play Free Movie on Vimeo.


Some parents may not be quite ready:

'My can kid go outside alone when he turns 14.'
'My 16 year old can ride the city bus, so long as a parent is with her.'
'18 years of age is a good time to let kids go off on their own.'
'I’d NEVER let my kid go outside without an adult.'

Not everyone would agree:

“Play deprivation is bad for children. Among other things, it promotes anxiety, depression, suicide, narcissism, and loss of creativity. It’s time to end the experiment.”
~ Dr. Peter Gray

“The child amidst his baubles is learning the action of light, motion, gravity, muscular force….”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things.”
~ Plato

“Play gives children a chance to practice what they are learning…They have to play with what they know to be true in order to find out more, and then they can use what they learn in new forms of play.”
~ Fred Rogers

“Men should learn to live with the same seriousness with which children play.”
~ Nietzsche

“Play is the highest form of research.”
~ Albert Einstein

What do you think?


Monday, March 17, 2014

imaginary future Crow #1


With apologies to both Jules Verne and the artists of old Final Fantasy games, I couldn't help but try to render one of Crow's visions of what it might be like to live in a world where people have finally found a level of technology in keeping with ecological balance. In this one we have my impression of a large, and admittedly Rococo, airship that has carried an audience to view a boat race. Okay, it will take some more work, but while I'm not very good at drawing architectural (or aeronautic) structures, I love the idea that eventually we'll find a way to live in harmony with the world.

per Crow*: The industrial economy that exists today can best be described in ecological terms as a scheme for turning resources into pollution at the highest possible rate. Resource exhaustion and pollution problems aren’t accidental outcomes of industrialism, they’re hardwired into the industrial system: the faster resources turn into pollution, the more the industrial economy prospers, and vice versa. It's become apparent the current situation helps nobody - including my non-human friends.

It seems worth considering that from the standpoint of the far future, industrialism may prove to have been only one early and inefficient form of what might eventually become an ecotechnic society. Of course, we both agree this distant future is very hard to imagine from our current perspective, but who, hundreds of years ago, could possibly have imagined air travel and cell phones?

Personally, I like to imagine air ships.
Back to the drawing board, but first
some music by crows^ arranged by
Jarbas Agnelli:

Birds on the Wires from Jarbas Agnelli on Vimeo.



* Crow often visits his friend the Archdruid while I simply read his latest post every week.
^ You already knew they're clever.

Friday, March 14, 2014

experimental magic



Okay, I'll be first to agree this isn't the most exciting thing ever but once I got the little lantern from Magic Lamp I really wanted to try my hand at making my own version of the turning cylinder that fits inside one.

It was my friend, Marja-Leena, who asked me to show how it might be done and with that in mind I've been happy to take pictures of my first attempts and the result. You can see my 'how to' over here.

Magic turning lamps, or MawariDoro, are very pretty enhancements for any room. Now if only I knew how to make my own 20 second video :)