Saturday, December 31, 2011

A New Year

Tomorrow is New Years Day.  I am overwhelmed with many  thoughts, inspirations, and anticipations.  Our life during the past couple of years have been full of uncertainty, but at the same time, we have been pressing on towards a certain goal the whole time.  Our lives will change dramatically this year as these goals will come to fruition.
This will present new challenges since my boys are 12 and 14, they love their lives and friends right now, and don't want too much to change. 
For myself, I think of Duke Leto from Dune.  Before leaving his home planet which is predominately water, for the desert planet he tells his son, "I'll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken!"  
I think this is true.  Without change, something does sleep inside of us.  I have been asleep for far too long.  I long for change, for a new horizon, for the unknown.  Suburbia has caused me to slumber, and this sense of preparing for a life change has stirred me. 
This new year fills me with promise, hope and yes, to be honest, a little anxiety! 
I couldn't put it better than Bono from U2... "I will begin again"  Not sure about what my resolutions will be, but I am sure they will follow.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

The Rewritten Tale (In its entirety)

This is a classic fairy tale.  My favorite.  Rewritten..


Chapter One

A long time ago there was a girl and a boy.  Usually this tale begins with an introduction concerning the devil who creates a mirror which distorts everything.  The mirror breaks into a million shards and disperses throughout the world.  These evil shards get stuck in peoples eyes making them see everything distorted.  And the shards get stuck in their hearts, causing their hearts to turn to ice.

But my story is a little different, even though it begins exactly the same way.  You should read the original if you are curious about the differences but here is my story...

  There once lived a boy and a girl.
 While this was all happening with the mirror, the boy and the girl were friends.  They knew they were destined to be friends forever.  More than friends, of course.  They knew they were soul mates.  They treasured every moment they had, and pretended it didn't matter.  The boy wanted to marry the girl, and the girl didn't even know.  The girl loved the boy deeply, but she didn't even hope that he would love her back.  When she found out he did, her whole world came alive. Everything was perfect. The vowed to love each other forever.   Everything was the way it should be.

 There was never any reason to worry about anything with the boy and girl.  They loved each other.  They were happy.  But then the world got difficult.  The boy and girl saw cruelty, sadness, despair and utter failure.  They had each other though, and that should have been all that mattered.



Chapter Two

"Years go by and I'm here still waiting
Withering where some snowman was
Mirror, mirror, where's the crystal palace
But I only can see myself
Skating around the truth who I am"
Winter by Tori Amos


  The Snow Queen was beautiful and dangerous and terrifying all at the same time.  Her icy grip was intriguing.  Despite the  knowledge of certain doom, very few people had the power to resist her irrepressible allure.  Of course the girl, whose name was Rain, was one of those people.  She could resist the ice grip, because she had danced in the sunshine before.  She walked in the warm moonlit forest and had tasted the love of life.  She had no care for something cold to touch her.
It made her heart ache when she started seeing despair and hopelessness all around her.  When she started noticing all the people with icy hearts and frozen eyes and the pain it caused, she wanted to help.  Most of the problems in the world were caused by all of those icy shards which were getting stuck in people's hearts and eyes.  Actually by this time, the shards had been getting stuck in people's brains too.  This was causing all  kinds of disturbances and mayhem.  Imagine how the ice shards could mess up people's thought patterns.
Rain wanted to help these people.  She listened to them pour their heart out.  She loved them and she wanted to help.  Mostly she realized that just being there and listening would help melt the shards.  Tears melted  the shards too, especially the really big ones.  But it was difficult for her, even if she didn't admit it.  Everytime she would listen and open up her heart, take on the pain and misery, it wore her down a little.   But she didn't mind.  It was what she wanted to do.  Seeing so many in misery, she wanted to help them in any way she could. She wanted to show them how much better the sunshine and warmth was.   Of course, there was always a danger of ice getting stuck in her too.  A few times she actually saw pieces of ice flying around, trying to icify her heart, and eyes, and mind, but they were no match for her.  She could evade them or catch them and melt them with her fingers.  She felt it was her special gift.  Her special power.  She became a little conceited about it, in fact.  She thought nothing could affect her and change her.
While this was all happening, the Snow Queen noticed Rain.  Normally, she enjoyed getting hold of more flashy people.  Rain was not that type of girl.  She was a little odd, a little quiet, didn't mind being alone, and really didn't like attention in a crowd.  But now, the Snow Queen not only noticed her, but grew angry with her.  It was because Rain was getting people to de-icify.  See, the Snow Queen did not create the ice mirror, but she delighted in the affects it caused.  And once the ice shards touched a person, her job was SO much easier.  She could descend on a person, breathe her icy breath on them, and they would be her prisoner.  Once she had them captured, she would whisk them away, and bring them to her Ice Castle.  There, they would serve her until slowly they would become so frozen, they would become ice statues in her courtyard.  You would think she would run out of room with all these ice people statues filling up her castle, but since ice is an unlimited resource, she kept building on, so the castle was a neverending labyrinth of rooms which held these statues.  It made the Snow Queen quite happy.  And now, the Snow Queen wanted another statue. She wanted a Rain statue.



Chapter 3

"Why do you cry, what did I say?"  "But its just rain I smiled, brushing my tears away"  - Edge of the Deep Green Sea  by The Cure


One day, Rain became absent-minded.  She was preoccupied with things don't matter.  Things that will always be there.  Like cobwebs and laundry.  Of course they need to be done, but she let them pile up so much that she was overwhelmed and got a little put-out about it all.  So, as she was running around cleaning and obsessing, a miniscule sliver of ice slipped into her heart.  It happened so quickly and neatly, that she hardly knew it happened.  It was a small prick and she ignored it.  Later that day, the ice started to take effect.  She started feeling less.
A little numb.
A little cold.
A little still.
And to be honest, it felt good.  She had been so used to feeling SO much, feeling everyone's pains, everyone's suffering, that a little numbness was such a relief.
She didn't realize that she needed those feelings to truly feel alive.

So, when the boy came home, she didn't tell him about the ice.  She actually thought it may be for the best, that she could help the ice people a little more if she truly felt the ice herself.  She had lost her special ability to resist, that may be true, but she also felt that she could rest for a bit and pull it out whenever she wanted.  She just wanted some time to enjoy the numbness.
It was the worst thing she could ever do.  Not telling the boy.

Chapter 4

"The walls you build around you now,
Seem to fit you like a glove.
Something's wrong with you,
Cause stars cannot be found in clouds that cover up their love."  - Saliva



The Boy had been a little overwhelmed at the time.  He had a lot of obligations, and other "stuff" on his mind.  He didn't notice the change in the girl.  But it wasn't really his fault.  He had this idea.  Or possibly a concept that Rain didn't have any problems.  She was always able to keep things together, and so he presumed that she always would.  The slight changes in her demeanor caused by the sliver, he didn't really notice.  After all, she was Rain.  He thought she was kind of like his constant.  Always there.  Always strong.

But no one is ever that strong.

Slowly, every day, Rain became a little more...detached.  She pretended to be the same girl.  But she was different.  For one thing, she was more obsessed about her work, which involved creating trinkets and selling them in the village marketplace.   It left less time for her to create what was much more important.  Love, friendship, stray children who needed an open door, there was little time to really involve herself in them.  She was wasting time on things that don't matter.  Every day.  She had less patience for other people, as well.
 
The Snow Queen was absolutely delighted with the transpirations.  She had been watching Rain for a while and had been planning on some type of sabotage.  But now, that didn't matter.  The Snow Queen knew the time was right.  With very little effort, she knew Rain could be hers.

She came to Rain one afternoon.  Pretending to be interested in the trinkets.  And so, she convinced Rain to take a ride with her, in order to see her Ice Castle.

The Snow Queen said, "I must have your pretty things decorating my Castle.  But you MUST come with me so that you can match everything perfectly. Your talent is unsurpassed and only YOU can perfect my palace."  The Snow Queen knew what would move Rain. So, Rain went with the Snow Queen.  She willingly stepped into the Queen's snow equipped Hummer.  She even sipped the red cordial which the Snow Queen offered.  It was warm.  It was numbing.  It allowed Rain to not feel the increasing cold as they drove to the castle.  The Ice Castle was so cold, that it's coldness radiated from it and it was much colder than humanly acceptable miles surrounding it.  Rain walked into the castle, and every second she was becoming colder, but she didn't even notice it.  It was almost like she had become so numb, that she no longer had the will to fight the cold.  The ice had won.
For a while, the Snow Queen had her enjoyment.  Asking Rain to do ridiculous things.  Things that were so wrong, or so silly, things that were degrading and embarrasing.  The Snow Queen had great delight in her new slave, her new circus performer.   Under normal circumstances, Rain would have run away from anything remotely "under her".  It was Rain's fault.  She knew what she had to do.  She did not lose her brain through this whole thing.  It was her heart that grew numb, not her brain, or her conscious.  She knew even when the ice sliver first penetrated her skin, that she needed to stop it.  And even in the Ice castle, she could have run away, but she chose to stay. She had no stregnth to fight it, and the ice started to feel comfortable.  She was comfortably numb.

Chapter 5

  "A shallow grave
A monument to the ruined age
Ice in my eyes
And eyes like ice don't move
Screaming at the moon
Another past time
Your name
Like ice into my heart"    The Cure - Cold


The boy was frantic.  He did not know what happened.  Only that she wasn't there.  She was gone and he had to get her back.  He knew how much he loved her.  That she was his life.

So he began looking for her. She was lost and he needed to save her. To bring her back home, to him, to herself again.  And he began piecing together all of the pieces.  The distance, the preoccupations, the obsessions.  He began to understand how she became numb and cold.


He began investigating the truth about the ice shards.  He connected everything.  He connected the many disappearances in the news.  He realized it was the Snow Queen.  And he knew he had to find her castle and save Rain.  Before Rain was transformed into a statue of ice.

Chapter Six

Logically, you would think that the boy,  would need to prepare in some way..  Not unlike most heroes do before they go on their adventure.
He should have found a wise sage and been given advice.  He would have benefited from some training.  Or perhaps like in the story about Eustace and Jill Pole,  he could have used a list of signs to look for to guide his way.  Or at the very least, he should have found a sword or other weapon with magical powers.  He didn't acquire any of these. 
He knew that the journey was going to be perilous.  The dead cold was going to be an obstacle which would not be easy to overcome.  The Snow Queen herself was quite a foe.  And he had no clue of how to defeat her.  His goal was not to fight or defeat the Snow Queen as much as save Rain.  That was all that mattered to him.   He didn't know if she was in pain, or hurt, or had been turned into an ice statue.  He didn't know how to save her.  In desperation, he left home to find Rain.  He was equipped  only one weapon.  His love for her. 
He also found some warmth elixirs to help him to survive the cold.

Chapter Seven

But Christmas falls late now
Flatter and colder
And never as bright as when we used to fall
All this in an instant
Before I can kiss you    "Last Dance" -The Cure 


The boy set out. He journeyed across the frozen terrain. There were many setbacks.  Many trials.  Many months passed. Until he finally saw the Ice Castle.
He approached the frozen gates and entered.  There were no guards.  No one came this far.  He had done what few else could do.  He began seeking her.  Room by room.  Searching each frozen statue for a likeness.  There were SO many ice statues.
But then he found her.  She was alone, but she wasn't a statue.  She was different, however, bluish and frozen in a way.  She turned around from where she was.  She was looking into a tall wall mirror.  She turned around and pierced him with her gaze.  She looked at him with recognition, but no heart.  It was like Rain was gone, and her body remained.  She was a zombie.  Her heart was completely frozen, as were her eyes at this point.  They were cold.
But the boy was so happy to find her.   He could tell that she had been in the service of the Snow Queen and had done terrible deeds to please her.  But he didn't care.  He saw that he had only one purpose, and that was to release her from the Ice and Cold.

He ran up to her.  He embraced her.  She was rigid.  And then he started crying.  He didn't even know he could cry.  He never had before.
But he did, and though he didn't know it, that was the only weapon that could have possibly worked against the cold.  The tears touched Rain's eyes.  And they touched her breast and seeped into her heart.  They awoke her.  She felt again.  She felt the cold that bound her.

Chapter Eight

He had saved her.  At least for the moment.  He needed to awaken her, and unfreeze her.  And he had.  She was herself again.  With that moment of recognition, however, came the full realization of everything she had chosen.  She had chosen the cold over love.  She was overcome with remorse, regret and horror.  She wept bitterly over her mistake.  He held her.  He loved her.  He didn't want any mistakes to hurt them anymore.  As she was weeping, the Snow Queen walked into the chamber.
It was the first time that the boy had ever seen  her.  She was otherworldly.  Tall.  Proud.  Beautiful.  Cold. Strong.  She had no intention of letting her prey go easily.   And now she had both the boy and the girl.  But the Snow Queen did not anticipate the strength of the Boy.  Or the strength of some one who is given new hope.   Rain had come to life.  She despised what she had become, but now she was stronger.  And the Boy was the true hero he was always meant to be.  The Snow Queen only had power over those who were afraid and who had darkness in their hearts.
He had none.
And Rain was no longer afraid.  So together, they looked at the Snow Queen straight into her frozen eyes, intertwined their fingers, and walked past her.  That had never been done before, and she could not stop it.  She only had power over those who were afraid, and who wanted her ice.  But these two, now, where untouched by the cold she owned.  They walked out and then they ran.  Out of the castle.  They ran for miles without getting cold.   Never letting go of each other.  When they reached the edge of the cold Ice Kingdom, they collapsed on the grass and laughed.  They cried out of joy. They kissed.  They knew they could never be touched by the Snow, the Queen, the Ice Shards again.  Most of all, they understood that tears, love, honesty, and hope were all they needed.
The boy and girl returned home.   Rain was so grateful.  So relieved.  So thankful.  But she was also scared.  She was afraid that the things she had done while she had the ice heart would destroy the boy's love for her.
Final Chapter

That is the way things are sometimes,  when people don't truly understand what love is.  The boy truly loved her, and realized through the whole ordeal, that Rain was the only thing that mattered to him. 
He decided to never hold the past against her.  The only thing that was important was their love.  And their new life together.

Because of that decision, they had a beautiful life together.  They faced many more trials and had many more adventures.  But always it was if they were fighting together, against the rest of the world.  And the ice shards never were able to touch either of them again. 

Thursday, December 22, 2011

O Holy Night!

 
The Mario Lanzo song I grew up on.  He has a beautiful voice.


I really like the Nat King Cole version.
But imagine my surprise when I found Weezer singing it on youtube!  Gotta love this.
 
As a small child, my father had certain vinyl records he would take out for Christmas.  One of these was  a Mario Lanzo recording of Christmas songs.  We all loved listening to his
 version of "O holy night".  Since then, something about the tune, the words, the essence of the song has moved my heart.

The lyrics were written by a poet , Cappeau , who was commissioned by a priest to write a Christmas poem  in France in the mid 1800s.  The poet was neither musically inclined, nor religiously inclined.  He was inspired, however, by the book of Luke when writing it.  And he felt that his poem was so inspired, that it should be put to music.  He went to a friend, who wrote the melody, and it began to be sung throughout the country.  However, since  Cappeau was not part of the church, and later became a socialist (which of course in theory is totally unbiblical, ;}  ) , the song was soon banned.  
There was a lot more drama involved and you can read about it here, o holy night  

Long story short, it remained popular, despite the ban, and was translated into many languages.  What I find extremely interesting, is that the song actually became an anti-slavery song in the United States. 
This verse in particular became the abolitionists' theme:
"Truly he taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother 
And in His name all oppression shall cease" 
 
This song sends chills up my spine, when I hear it.  Especially when I think about the inspiration it has on so many levels.








Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Arabic Calligraphy

I have been fascinated with Arabic Calligraphy for some time now.  I think it started a couple of years ago when I was teaching 7th grade about the rise of Islam in history and then (teaching art simultaneously) had them try out some Islamic Calligraphy.  I even had them look at some illuminated manuscripts and illustrations and tesselations to further understand the medieval Arabic culture.  Hopefully they learned something while I was rambling. 
Anyway, I have been practicing some calligraphy with various pens and nibs.  I came across this symbol for love.  I think it is beautiful.  There are several others.  Although I am no expert in Arabic Calligraphy, there seems to be different styles.

Here are some pages from my altered book which allowed me to combine some painting techniques and practice the calligraphy at the same time.
Above on the left is another version of love.  On the right is Freedom.  On the right is the Arabic Alphabet.

 Above is the symbol of love again, I thought it interesting to put it next to a painting by Waterhouse which shows Narcissus and his self-love.    "What thou seest fair creature....is thyself"

I hope to have some more time to practice and possibly learn Arabic.  It is drawing me in.



Sunday, November 27, 2011

T.S. Eliot Poem


The Hollow Men

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.


Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Part Deux - The story

The Snow Queen was beautiful and dangerous and terrifying all at the same time.  Her icy grip was intriguing.  Despite the  knowledge of certain doom, very few people had the power to resist her irrepressible allure.  Of course the girl, whose name was Rain, was one of those people.  She could resist the ice grip, because she had danced in the sunshine before.  She walked in the warm moonlit forest and had tasted the love of life.  She had no care for something cold to touch her.
It made her heart ache when she started seeing despair and hopelessness all around her.  When she started noticing all the people with icy hearts and frozen eyes and the pain it caused, she wanted to help.  Most of the problems were caused by all of those icy shards which were getting stuck in people's hearts and eyes.  By this time, the shards had been getting stuck in people's brains too.  This was causing all  kinds of disturbances and mayhem.  Imagine how the ice shards could mess up people's thought patterns.
Rain wanted to help these people.  She listened to them pour their heart out.  She loved them and she wanted to help.  Mostly she realized that just being there and listening would help melt the shards.  And tears.  Tears melted  the shards too, especially the really big ones.  But it was difficult for her, even if she didn't admit it.  Everytime she would listen and open up her heart, take on the pain and misery, it wore her down a little.   But she didn't mind.  It was what she wanted to do.  Seeing so many in misery, she wanted to help them in any way she could. She wanted to show them how much better the sunshine and warmth was.  The wearing down was so gradual, that she didn't notice it.  Of course, there was always a danger of ice getting stuck in her too.  A few times she actually saw pieces of ice flying around, trying to icify her heart, and eyes, and mind, but they were no match for her.  She could evade them or catch them and melt them with her fingers.  She felt it was her special gift.  Her special power.  She became a little conceited about it, in fact.  She thought nothing could affect her and change her.  She even started calling herself a special name.
While this was all happening, the Snow Queen noticed Rain.  Normally, she enjoyed getting hold of more flashy people.  Rain was not that type of girl.  She was a little odd, a little quiet, didn't mind being alone, and really didn't like attention in a crowd.  But now, the Snow Queen not only noticed her, but grew angry with her.  It was because Rain was getting people to de-icify.  See, the Snow Queen did not create the ice mirror, but she delighted in the affects it caused.  And once the ice shards touched a person, her job was SO much easier.  She could descend on a person, breathe her icy breath on them, and they would be her prisoner.  Once she had them captured, she would whisk them away, and bring them to her Ice Castle.  There, they would serve her until slowly they would become so frozen, they would become ice statues in her courtyard.  You would think she would run out of room with all these ice people statues filling up her castle, but since ice is an unlimited resource, she kept building on, so the castle was a neverending labyrinth of rooms which held these statues.  It made the Snow Queen quite happy.  And now, the Snow Queen wanted another statue. She wanted a Rain statue.


Tuesday, November 22, 2011

The Rewritten Tale - Chapter One

This is a classic fairy tale.  My favorite.  Totally rewritten..

A long time ago there was a girl and a boy.  Usually this tale begins with an introduction concerning how the devil creates a mirror which distorts everything.  The mirror breaks into a million shards and disperses throughout the world, it gets stuck in peoples eyes making them see everything distorted.  And the shards get stuck in their hearts, causing their hearts to turn to ice.

OUR story begins with the girl and the boy, though.  While this was all happening with the mirror, the boy and the girl were friends.  They knew they were destined to be friends forever.  More than friends, of course.  They knew they were soul mates.  They treasured every moment they had, and pretended it didn't matter.  The boy wanted to marry the girl, and the girl didn't even know.  The girl loved the boy deeply.  She didn't even hope that he would love her back, but when she found out he did, her whole world came alive. They told each other about their love.  Everything was perfect. The vowed to love each other forever.   Everything was the way it should be.

 There was never any reason to worry about anything with the boy and girl.  They loved each other.  They were happy.  But then the world got difficult.  The boy and girl saw cruelty, sadness, despair and utter failure.  They had each other though, and that should have been all that mattered.

However, a piece of mirrored glass got stuck in the girls heart and I will tell you about how it happened.  She didn't have the strength to reach in and pull it out. She was weaker than the boy knew.  She was weaker than she wanted to be and she was scared and ashamed.

Well, that piece of glass started to change her heart until she didn't know herself anymore.  And this delighted the Snow Queen.    (to be continued  http://ramblessilently.blogspot.com/2011/12/rewritten-tale-in-its-entirety.html)

Monday, November 21, 2011

Ransom Stoddard

I have been thinking about one of my favorite movies lately.  "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" starring James Stewart and John Wayne.  When my son Ransom was born, some old-timers told me to check out this movie because Jimmy Stewart plays a character named Ransom.  I don't know if you know this, but there are not that many Ransoms in the world.  (A fact that I am very proud of :)
The movie is great.  Here is a trailer...Liberty Valance  or blurb.  Seriously, it is a great western.  It is even better because it explores the whole hero concept.  The contrast of John Wayne's character with Jimmy Stewart's is priceless.  Ransom Stoddard (Stewart) is a senator in the newly established government of the old west.  He apparently got the job through his reputation for killing one of the worst bullies ever.  He carries the guilt of the killing for years, thinking he actually did it.  John Wayne plays the tough guy, never back down character that he always does.  I don't want to expand too much more, in case you want to watch it.
The whole point is that in this movie,  heroes come in different shapes and forms.   I think both of these men are heroes.  Ransom was not a fighter, but was willing to fight physically or legally to bring justice to the land.  Wayne, the gunslinger, gave up a family life and comforts to fight injustice in his own way.  I think that in this world, both types of heroes are needed.  Heck, we need heroes in whatever shape or form we can find them in.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

20 years!

I have written before about the tale of Arwen and Aragorn, as it is written in the appendix of the Lord of the Rings.  It is truly the most romantic tale ever.  It is a parallel tale to Beren and Luthien. Beren and Luthien was written to describe Tolkien's own romance with his wife.  How incredible!  Tolkien believed that true love exists and he lived it.
In a couple of weeks, it will be December 2011.  In December 1991, my husband and I started dating.  That means we have been loving each other for 20 years. Although I was in love with him and only him throughout my teen years, even before we began dating.
The tale of Arwen and Aragorn is our story.  He is Strider in so many ways.  Strong, wise, kind, and a real hero.  He would run into any battle, fight any foe, and forgive any wrongs. Since he likes privacy and doesn't like people to talk about him like this, I will stop.  But he is THAT type of man.
And to think he loves me like Aragorn loved Arwen, fills me with awe and gratefulness. 

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Why do I teach art?

I have been pondering what the purpose of education in general is all about.  Art, in particular, since that is my passion, background, and what I teach.
In the big scheme of things, is it important that I teach children how to draw and paint?  Is it important, at all, that I teach them about Leonardo Davinci or Picasso?  Will it make a difference in their life?  Especially since so few kids will actually find a career in the art field?
 I want to communicate vital reasons for spending time on art, since every moment of education is precious, and kids have so much to learn and to do.  But to do so, my thoughts go to the whole picture, the major scheme of what education should be about.  Generations ago, advanced degrees, and even a highschool diploma, was not necessary to be successful.  That was when America was more industrial, more trade-oriented.  My grandmother, Rose, finished 8th grade.  Even though, she never worked outside the home, her command of the english language  was far beyond that of  most college graduates of today.  (She grew up in a house with Italian parents fresh off the boat, bilingual, although she never spoke Italian to her children, she wanted to be fully American.) She enjoyed proofreading papers of her grandchildren, if asked!   I digress, this is not even my point.  Yes, there is something wrong with education today, but that is not what I am searching for.  I have been working on refining my intentions.  Purposes.  What is the ultimate goal of teaching children anything, including art.
My philosophical influences include of course, C.S.Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, Charlotte Mason, and Mortimer Adler.  The first two I won't go into detail about, but they have both influenced classical education immensely.  Charlotte Mason believed in the gentle art of learning.  She believed in creating a heart love for learning instead of just pouring information into their heads.  Information is important, but if a child does not love it, it won't stick and won't create a lifelong learner.  Mortimer Adler is a fascinating person.  Son of immigrants himself, born in 1902, he was a great proponent for classical education,  he believed that we need to enter into the "conversation of great ideas".  Literature, art and music contain the great ideas which spur humanity to think, grow and act.  He came up with a list of the Great Books... the books everyone should read to be educated properly. (if properly is the right word, even)  His foe was John Dewey. I read the following online:
"Interestingly, at Columbia, Adler also become familiar with John Dewey against whom he would later rail with great passion, claiming that Dewey's brand of intellectualism was entirely too objective. Students, said Adler, needed also to be grounded in the Great Ideas embodied within the great classics -- specifically truth, beauty, goodness, liberty, equality, and justice. Dewey's problem, said Adler, was that he had never read Aristotle." Mortimer Adler page   This is why I like Adler.  This is why I have always enjoyed the classics and science fiction, for that matter.  And finally, that is why I did not particularly like Twilight.
So, on to my particular passion and calling as an art teacher.  Teaching children art. It is not only about vocabulary and skills.  These are important.  You need to have the foundation.  I am always acutely aware of the fact that no matter what subject you are teaching, you must instill excitement and the love of the subject as well.  I believe this can happen in any subject, regardless of whether it is easy or not.  Rigorous education does not have to be boring, or too difficult. Just like Adler's list of books, I think there are certain pieces of art and certain artists that every student should be familiar with and study.  By study I mean some type of imitation, copying and discussing the piece.
Really, when you come down to it, I think for art, that the skills and concepts learned should be taught ultimately, not to teach kids how to communicate visually.  Although that will be an outcome and result if your end goal is right.  It is not to create a child who can  spit out facts about artists, colors, and harmony in art.  Although that will be an outcome and result if your end goal is right.  The ultimate goal of art education is to promote and encourage an understanding and love for the great works of art in the past and in modernity and to be able to evaluate it through the lens of their beliefs. I aim to evaluate art through the lens of scripture, church history, and church culture/traditions. There is nothing that is created in neutrality.  Ever.  Every piece of art communicates the big ideas and worldview of the artist and often the culture of the time. I am continually fascinated by the messages I find in paintings.  Take a look at Son of Man by Magritte which is below.   You could spend an hour just observing the symbolism and meanings within every aspect of the painting. The apple covering individuality, the red hands, the conformist suit, the barrier behind him.....


Ultimately,  I hope that through teaching skills, concepts and exposing my students to the great pieces of art (ones which contain the great ideas of humankind), that they will learn to be able to engage in the  conversation of great ideas which has always been going on since the beginning of time.
My secondary goal is for my students to love and appreciate art.  For them to desire to go to a museum or look up a new artist online to learn more about them and their work.  I want them to learn pieces of art "by heart" by copying them and by discussing them, much like they would do with poetry.  To sum it all up, it is not just the head, or even the hands that I want to train.  As a christian educator, my purpose in all of this is further reaching.  I want to somehow be able to reach their hearts, to allow them to understand that art is a way to learn more about God. I think that is what the great conversation of ideas is all about.  Trying to figure out why we are here, what our purpose is on this planet, and why bad things happen and what we can and should do in response.
Oh gosh, I think this just ended up being my soapbox.  But seriously, I don't think art is about having a fun time, or doing something different, or even communication of personal ideas.  It is bigger, it is more important.  Not because it needs to be taken more serious, but because it needs to become more of who we are. 

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Hero with a Thousand Faces


Apparently my education has been lacking!  I never studied the Hero cycle  or monomyth of world mythology proposed by Joseph Campbell.  He wrote The Hero with a Thousand Face
This piece of work analyzes the fact that mythologies ,especially hero tales, follow a general pattern.  It looks like this if you were to graphically map it  out 



So, basically, George Lucas gives a lot of credit to Joseph Campbell.  Think about Star Wars.  Perfect example of the Hero's Journey.  George Lucas should give credit to Frank Herbert, as well.  I am sure Herbert was aware of this journey, or he was so ingrained in mythologies that it fell into place.  Anyway, Lucas' characters mimic the characters of Dune.  The planets and story line (at least of the first book) do as well.  I love Star Wars.  Always have, always wished I could be Princess Leia.  But Dune is deeper, darker, and lovelier.  I think that happens when the book is written before the movie, though.  Oh, and there is the whole brother-sister twin thing going on too.  I havent read Campbell yet.  I plan to.  I wonder if the brother sister twin thing is a part of it.  It is found in the book I am currently reading, too. ( The Game of Thrones)
Another movie which I LOVE follows this journey exactly.  Yes, The Matrix! I have many more thoughts and ideas concerning this topic.  I will add more later on.  


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Holy Hour

I recently heard someone say that there are reasons why you like the songs you like, why you connect to different characters in stories and comic books.  This is one of my favorite songs.  I listen to it when I am sad.  I don't know if this means I am a melancholy person or not.  The song is frustrating and sad and beautiful. A psychologists could probably analyze it though and come up with some understanding...



I sit and listen dreamlessly
A promise of salvation makes me stay
Then look at your face
And feel my heart pushed in
As all around the children play
The games they tired of yesterday
They play
They play

I stand and hear my voice
Cry out
A wordless scream at ancient power
It breaks against stone
I softly leave you crying
I cannot hold what you devour
The sacrifice of penance
In the holy hour.



Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Angelus

So I learned something new today.  As much as I like Salvador Dali, I never realized that the above painting named "Archeological Reminiscences of Millet's Angelus" was based on Millet's "The Angelus".  Although I was familiar with both paintings visually, I never connected the names.  I know... you can say a big Homer Simpson "DUH" here.

The Angelus is a prayer based on the Angel coming to Mary in the gospels.  In the 1400's onward,   when the church bells rang (three times a day) the peasants would stop their labor and say the prayer.  Further Info on the Angelus  and even more plus the prayer in Latin.
 The peasants looked as if they were merely praying their daily prayer.  However, Dali was obsessed with this image.  He did not believe the couple were praying their daily prayers, but  praying for a dead child (or unborn child).  . Dalí was so insistent on this fact that eventually an X-ray was done of the canvas, and the painting contains a painted-over geometric shape strikingly similar to a coffin.  It is unclear whether Millet changed his mind on the meaning of the painting, or even if the shape actually is a coffin.
I want to know more about Dali's painting, but have to pull out my books, since these internet sites seem to be more interested in selling reproductions and prints than giving information.  However, I think, Dali had made some association with  sex and death.  I will probably add on to this more later, send me emails or comments to your ideas.  I would love to hear.Angelus

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I am Robot, I am Troy Davis



I have mixed feelings about  capital punishment.  I like to think of myself as a Pro-Lifer from cradle to grave.   While reading the Lord of the Rings when I was 16, I was struck by this dialogue between Frodo and Gandalf. Frodo said that it was a pity Bilbo didn't kill Gollum, when he had a chance.  Gandalf replies, "It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand.  Many that live DESERVE death.  Some that die deserve life.  Can you give it to them, Frodo?  Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment.  Even the very wise cannot see all ends.  My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over.  The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many"


This week, unaware, being in my little bubble, I ran across this tumblr...


I am Lawrence Belk
This statement reminded me of the Outer Limits 1995 (and later a movie by the same name)  I, Robot.  It is based on a short story by Asimov.
I immediately clicked on this link... to find out the details of the story.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/09/21/troy-davis-and-lawrence-b_n_974293.html  struggling with my stand after reading this. Who wants a serial killer on the same earth as the ones you love?  I try think of  how Christ would have handled it.  When confronted with a woman who was sentenced to die...

John 8:7, where Jesus challenges the men who would put her to death, he points out the guilt in us all, and they walk away.

But adultery is not murder, and it is include a grotesque desire for blood.  But Jesus lived at the peak of the Roman empire.  Have you read about the blood, gore, bloodthirst, and atrocities which occurred?  Seriously, Christ lived in a society which would have Lawrence Belk in charge of arena games, or a soldier of some sort.  And yet, He was silent on a lot of social issues, even that.  I am probably minimalizing and summarizing these thoughts to a fault.  

We live in a broken world, with broken people.  There are awful, horrible things done to innocent victims. Jesus did have a few words to say about those who hurt children.  It includes a millstone and is kind of harsh.  (I need a reference here, but can't seem to find it...help me out)
I just struggle with a state's right to try and sentence an individual to DEATH.  What a responsibility!  There are innocent people who are tried and found guilty every year.  Mostly due to the lack of financial funds, because lets face it... if you have money in this country, you can get away with a lot!  Yes, Lawrence  Belk  DESERVED DEATH.  But I certainly would not want to push the button, especially if it meant that a potentially innocent man like Troy Davis had to die!  See, my dilemma?  What is the worse of two evils?  The government having the power to administer life and death, or the evil which lurks in the hearts of men?  Perhaps we need a Shadow  to administer justice..






Going back to the issue... should we kill our worse criminals?  Should we administer "an eye for any eye" as a society?  What will that do to the soul of our culture?
There is another Outer Limits episode.  It deals with the prison system of the future.  The episode is called THE SENTENCE.  Imagine a virtual prison, administered in a few moments.  During that small amount of time, the prisoner spends years and years  in a prison or sentence appropriate to his crime.  It is an extremely thought provoking episode.  Perhaps a death sentence is more humane.  
The silent ramblings of my mind will continue...

Saturday, September 17, 2011

La Belle Dame Sans Merci


 I have always been drawn to Pre-raphaelite art.


To truly understand the style, I will give a quick Art History lesson.  See, Michelangelo and Raphael were Masters, right?  They were trained under the Renaissance artists who sought for perfection of form, light, proportion.   Michelangelo and Raphael were trained that way but then 'matured' to an 'exaggerated extension' of realism.  You can see this in the later painting of these two (and some others who followed), you will note exaggerated, out of proportion bodies, long awkward necks, strange inhuman shaped limbs.  If you really take the time to look.  The "Mannerists"  painted in the style that Michelangelo and Raphael began.  It was viewed as a natural progression of art coming out of the High Renaissance.  Well, in 1848, a group of artists formed in England who viewed the High Renaissance style of realism more enlightening than the mannerism which followed.  The subjects of the art of the Pre-Raphaelites tended to be stories from mythology, fairy tales, and King Arthur.  They loved Medieval themes, since they felt that era was very spiritual and creative.   They strove to create art that was purposeful... expressing  a grand idea or thought.

Above is one of my favorite paintings.  I have a small print of it.  (would love to get a larger one eventually).  It is haunting.  Check out the realism in the fabric of her dress.  The desperation in her eyes.  The shine of metal.  I could never tire of this painting.  John William Waterhouse painted it, and he is probably my favorite artist of all time.  I like him partly because I love to look at his work.  But also because he paints literature.   Poetry in particular.....Tennyson, Keats, Homer.

The Keats poem "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" was painted by several Pre Raphaelites.





O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
       Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
       And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
       So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
       And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
       With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
       Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,
       Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
       And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
       And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
       And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
       And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
       A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
       And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
       ‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her elfin grot,
       And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
       With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,
       And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dreamt
       On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
       Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
       Thee hath in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
       With horrid warning gapèd wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
       On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here,
       Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
       And no birds sing.



I read several interpretations.  One of them deals with the knight's decision to forsake his real life and reality for an ideal of love that does not exist.  Another interesting one was that the woman is a form of the femme fatale... deliberately destructive.  A third idea was that he was under an enchantment of the imagination.  And his real life wasted away in pursuit of a world that is not real.


I am not sure what I think, I do know that fairy tales always give a shadow of truth. Often a deep spiritual truth. I must ponder this some more... what do you think?

Another thing I really like about the poem is the reference to Pale Kings.... reminds me of Frodo in the Lord of the Rings putting on the Ring while the Nazgul are chasing him and he sees the Pale King... but that has nothing to do with this tale.