To The Well (again)

From Thomas Merton....

"The person is defined in terms of freedom, hence in terms of responsibility also: responsibility to other persons, responsibility for other persons. To put it in concrete terms, the Christian is not only one who seeks the expansion and development of his own individuality and the satisfaction of his most legitimate natural needs but one who recognizes himself responsible for the good of others, for their own temporal fulfillment, and ultimately for their eternal salvation. Hence, the Christian person reaches maturity with the realization that each one of us is indeed his "brother's keeper," and that if men are suffering and dying in Asia or Africa, other men in Europe and America are summoned to self-judgment before the bar of conscience to see whether, in fact, some choice or neglect on their own part has had a part in this suffering and this dying, which otherwise may seem so strange and remote. For today the whole world is bound tightly together by economic, cultural and sociological ties which make us all, to some extent, responsible for what happens to others on the far side of the earth. Man is now not only a social being; his social nature transcends national and regional limits, and whether we like it or not, we must think in terms of one human family, one world."

~~Thomas Merton. Love and Living. Naomi Burton Stone and Brother Patrick Hart, editors. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979: 152-153

Ode to a Morning Alone

I love a morning alone. I haven't had one in a couple of weeks. Not one where I didn't have somewhere I had to be sometime during the morning hours. Yesterday I went to KTC and did my bookkeeping chores in the hopes that I could have alone time this morning after F went to work. The morning started off with me being woken up by the Boogies. It wasn't bad though, not like it was 5:30 a.m. or anything. They patiently waited until 7:15 to wake me.

I could have woke up F as she had to get up at 7:30 to get ready for work, but as she hadn't come to bed until 5:30 a.m., I thought I should let her have at least 2 full hours of sleep.

The dogs were good and they left me to watch TV and drink my coffee quietly. At 8:45 F walked out the door, got in her car and drove to the gate. There she found that a large tree limb had fallen across the lane blocking the road. It fell from a neighbors tree onto the lane and their pick-up truck. F came in and called her job and asked if someone would come and get her.

I went out to look at the tree and realized there was no way me, F, or even a couple of others could move the tree without it first being sawed up. That is usually done by our neighbor Wayne. As a matter of fact it was Wayne's tree branch that had fallen and it had fallen right in front of his house and onto his wife's pick-up truck. But Wayne and the little missus are away looking for a new home and job in Alabama.

I decided I would be proactive and walked down the lane to ask the assistance of A. I called to her from her driveway and she came out, beckoning me to come closer to the house. I told her the tree had fallen on R's truck and did she have Wayne's son's phone number. I know his sons have cut trees in the past. A. said that Wayne's sons could not operate powertools without supervision (they are mentally impaired, which I knew). She also told me why she and R aren't talking, what her health issues are, her frustration at trying to arrange medical appts., her husband's prostate problems, his blood sugar level of 756, the day he called 911 from his hospital bed to complain about a nurse who was trying to kill him by being inattentive, and many other things.

A. told me that if our other neighbor came home or if her son came home she would ask them to get their power saw out and clear the tree. I thanked her and went on my way. Yes, good neighbors are hard to find.

I went back to the house and got my camera. I decided to photograph the tree in case Wayne needed it for insurance purposes. So now it is 11:40 a.m., and my morning alone is passing into oblivion. I am stuck here on the property - like I needed a reason not to leave home today.

I would really have preferred to have nothing to do this morning but sit quietly, write in my journal, read my email, watch the JAG episode I've been saving all week. But then I wouldn't have photos of that to post with my blog.

One Done, One in Progress

The images of Santa Fe linger. It is partially fed by reading American Prometheus, a bio of J. Robert Oppenheimer. What I hadn't realized while I was in Santa Fe, is that Oppenheimer had fallen in love with northern New Mexico early in his life and that he leased and then owned a ranch there from his early 20's. There are many tales about the time he spent there prior to the Manhattan Project being planted there.

I am putting more of the memories to paint and paper. I hope to do more.

The completed one...

The one in progress...

New Mexico Lingers

There is something about New Mexico that has stayed with me. There is room there. The sky is big. The ground is high. 7,000+ feet higher than Jacksonville. I didn't know when we got there that we would be that high up. I didn't think you could visually see the difference. But you can.

It's peaceful there. It's quiet there. There is no background drone of traffic sound anywhere. Not even in the city of Santa Fe. It's really quiet.

The mountains are beautiful. In the east mountains are covered in lush green trees. That's what you see, large, high mounds of green upon green. In the Fall it becomes a vibrant field of color upon color. Then comes the grey of the winter sky and the grey of leafless trees. In New Mexico you see rock. The mountains aren't covered with trees. They are bare, and colorful, revealing many millenium of strata, fallen or split rocks, layers that tell geologists the history of the mountain and our planet. It's so impressive. The mountains are so solid and yet seem so vulnerable in their nakedness.

Why didn't I find New Mexico when I was younger? Why didn't I find it when I had the ability to hike its mountains and walk through the desert searching for bones and artifacts. I had more courage then. Or was it just the folly of ignorance that led me to places with risk? How much nicer it would have been to sleep below the New Mexico sky then to sleep several levels below Grand Centeral Station.

Surprised - Not Shocked

I'm surprised by the events that took place this week at Virginia Tech University. Surprised, but not shocked. Waco shocked me. Oklahoma City shocked me. The killing rampage at Columbine H.S. shocked me. 9/11 happened and that shocked me. So another senseless act of violence against people going about the activities of their lives does not shock me. Not in America. Not anymore.

I feel sadness for the families, friends, and students of VTU, but it is just a small part of the deep sadness I feel for those of us who remember a time before presidential assassinations, mass killings by government agents, students as killing machines, and airplanes used as bombs. Hope and honor and freedom from mental, emotional, and social assault is what we have lost. I mourn the death of my own idealism and optimism. I'm beyond a hope that "something will change."

Instead, I make my world smaller, I keep my attention and emotions closer. I find joy and hope in the individuals in my personal life. My delight comes from the innocence and naturalness of my animals. My honor and pride comes from the priveledge of being loved and from living in a world where the holy still roam and beauty can be found in a rock formation. That and the air I breathe is all there is.

while we played, they played

"Hmmmm. What's this, I wonder?"

"Wow! How Did Alice get in there?"

"Ahhhhh. Nothing like a sand bath on a sunny day."

"Uncle Dwight, what's that in your hand?"

All photos courtesy of Dwight Fisk

The Joke or the Joker

So, Imus is gone. Not just off MSNBC but also off the radio.

*snap* Things change. Quickly.

In the course of a week, I heard 2 prominent, well known comedians make racist comments. One had no repercussions. One lost his job.

The first comment was a joke told by Whoopi Goldberg. She had a special on Bravo that Christi and I happened to catch a week ago. She introduced the last joke she told by telling the audience "the community" would not approve. One can assume "the community" was the black community. She told the joke, the punchline had God uttering the "n" word to a child, and everyone, including me, laughed. She said she would not use "that" word again.

While the audience was still laughing Whoopi told everyone to think about why they were laughing. I have thought about it.

I think a black person telling a joke using white racist attitudes as the punchline gives all of us white people permission to laugh at it. I know for myself that had the same joke been told by Michael Richards, Jerry Seinfeld, Phyllis Diller, Joan Rivers or any other white comic, I would have been horrified and would have been embarrassed by my desire to laugh. But Whoopi's telling the joke meant I could laugh with her, loudly, unashamed, guilt-free. But Whoopi wasn't laughing herself. She was teaching.

The other comment was said by Don Imus, a very funny, in your face, radio personality. In the 1970's I listened to Don Imus regularly. Back then he made fun of southern preachers and cracker sterotypes. He had a favorite character named Billy Saul Hargas from the Discount House of Worship. He was hysterically funny and I would laugh whenever I heard him.

Imus' comments last week were not a punchline or a satirical monologue. He was joking around with a friend, a producer of his radio show. His comments weren't funny to anyone else but the two of them. His reference to the Rutger's Women Basketball Varsity team as "nappy-headed ho's" is not funny in any context except as a private joke between racist buddies. His mistake was that he said it all on air. That he didn't hesitate to air those comments, or even catch himself or apologize or clean them up somehow immediately after making them, says to me that the man doesn't have a clue that those comments reveal his racist beliefs.

I wish I could say I was so enlightened as to not have a racist bone in my body. I can't say that. But I know enough to know when a comment or thought is racist and that it should be censored. I believe racism and racist thoughts are habitual, even after one has examined these beliefs and discarded them. The true test of discarding racism is not in intellectually understanding the unreasonableness of your attitudes and ideas, but in doing the work day after day of not laughing at jokes, even when safe, not allowing those thoughts to go unchecked in your own mind, not seeking out others who will "enjoy" it and not be offended by those thoughts or comments. That's the hard part of reforming racist attitudes.

Imus has said he is not a racist, that he had no racist intent. In the past he has publicly vowed not to use racial epithets. I think Imus got fired because he still didn't know that it was not ok to do that privately and certainly not publicly if you want to break the habit of racism.

Santa Fe

Frankye and I have had the priveledge and good fortune of accompanying our friends Christi and Sue to Santa Fe as their guests. We've had an absolutley wonderful time and have seen more beauty than I knew existed. Here are some photos, as words could not describe the beauty of the landscape.

Mean while, back home, the sentient beings we share our home with were on duty protecting the homestead with Aunt Lori and Uncle Dwight. Uncle Dwight has a nice camera and knows how to use it. He took this lovely picture of the Lords of the Manor diligently at their post, keeping the world as they know it safe from preditors.

Photos by D. Fisk, C. Cripps, S. Molare, & C.C. Kessler

Smarter Minds Than Mine

Great is the guilt of an unnecessary war.

~~John Adams

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.

~~Dalai Lama

A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.

~~Aesop

I don't believe in killing whatever the reason!

~~John Lennon

Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.

~~Buddha

Eros will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities.

~~C.S. Lewis

As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.

~~Carl Jung

Cause and Cure

I believe in justice and truth, without
which there would be no basis for human hope.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

The lack of justice and truth is the cause of pain and suffering even for those of us who have so much physical comfort.

Justice and truth and human hope can change and eliminate all the suffering (but not the pain of life) and evil in the world and move humanity forward.

Catching Up

This past week I feel like I've been catching up with myself. The previous six weeks were a whirlwind of activity and people. I've been busy at work and doing additional duty with special projects. I've been tired and sleeping hard. This past weekend was the first weekend in 5 weeks that I had no commitment to do anything specific and I celebrated it in style.

I got home from work Friday night with dinner in hand and didn't leave the house again until Monday morning at 9:30 to go to work. I spent the entire weekend wearing only a t-shirt. I was a slug. I was happy. I did next to nothing. Yes, I ate and drank, cooked a little bit, slept - a nap each day, let the dogs in, let the dogs out - over and over again, wrote/read email, surfed the web, played computer solitaire, watched tv, ignored the tv but still had it on, wrote and painted in my journal, read a magazine and an art book, sighed a lot, heard F's voice (a lot), talked to a boy on the phone, and heard the sounds of life outside the door. Never left the house. Did I say that already? It deserves being said twice. I loved it.

Now it is Tuesday, a/k/a toosday. Work is still a whirlwind, but I got some big projects off my plate so the special projects aren't a burden. I've been sleeping late each morning, anywhere between 6:45 - 7:20. I really prefer to have more time in the morning to be with myself before I hustle to work, but I've really needed the sleep so I am allowing myself to roll-over that one last time. I'm not in danger of "over sleeping" for work and as a result I still have the luxury of sleeping til I'm done so I don't need an alarm clock.

I bought a new pair of jeans today. I had a discount coupon and so they cost $19.28 and that includes postage and handling. They should be here next week. They are just like the other pair I have that I wear almost every single day and love. I didn't wear jeans for a long long time and now it is all I want to wear. I wonder why we (I) refer to jeans as a pair? Is it because they have 2 legs? A pair is 2 of something, and yet the term a pair of jeans refers to just one clothing item. But I digress.

I've done some more dreaming about trailers and then scolded myself for being obsessive. I've spent time on-line looking at military shoulder bags - again obsessive, hence, scolded. I was sitting in my car the other day eating a bean buritto. It was my lunch time and I had time left to do something before returning to the office. I didn't feel like going to the library. Everything I thought about doing in the 30 minutes I had left involved looking at things in stores. Looking at products. Looking to buy something. Anything. Consuming as recreation. As a time passer. It wasn't ok. I wrote in my journal for a while about the whole thing and then went back to work. Of course, later in my work day, before I went home, I went on-line to ebay to look at the military bags available for cheap. Oy!

So now it is the end of my work day again. I am going to stop at Blockbuster and drop off films then go to get Chinese take-out. I had a good salad for lunch at Bennigan's. They make a nice Greek salad with sliced grilled chicken breast. Very delicious. I went back to work and had a really good evacuation. Lots of energy afterwards and I finished another project and emailed it off. A good toosday.

a paint box

I have many paint boxes. I have an oil paint box, an acrylic paint box, a gouache paint box, 2 large watercolor paint boxes, and about 5 small travel watercolor kits. Most of them have been gifts I received over the years.

When I am painting in little sketch books or my journal, I tend to use my Windsor Newton travel watercolor box whether I am traveling or at home. Until recently, I didn’t have a box that I carried with me everyday in my shoulder bag. About 2 months ago I made one out of an Altoids box. After a short time that too seemed too big.

I recently found amongst my things a little 2 ½” x 3” tin box that can hold 12 half-pans of watercolor firmly. The lid is hinged on one-side and when opened both sides lay flat. The lid can be used as a mixing palette. It’s very lightweight and convenient. It fits in my pencil case or slips into my pocket easily. I have a Niji mini waterbrush, 6" log when capped. Today I used it at work and there was no fuss and no muss. I like it.

I Hate This War

I hate this war. I am so angry at the people who created it. It has caused and continues to cause so much pain and suffering to so many.

I've had my own private protest against this war going for over 3 years now. On the first Veteran's Day after the start of the Iraq war I hung the American flag on the flag pole by the front gate of my house. I have not taken it down since that day. It is looking disheveled, discolored, and worn. It is a metaphor for the effect this war is having on Americans. I will not remove the flag, no matter how tattered it becomes, until the last American soldier is home from Iraq.

Everyday something comes out in the news about how this war is mishandled, how our leaders lied and manipulated the truth to get this war. We hear stories of veterans who's lives and bodies have been irrevocably damaged by the war are poorly treated in VA hospitals overflowing and underfunded. We hear stories of helicopter shootdowns, car bombs, suicide bombers and ruthless attacks on Americans who would not be in harm's way were they not sent to Iraq. 3,148 American military killed to date. Stories of innocent Iraqi civilians being slaughtered on a daily basis are mind numbing. The are dying at a rate of almost 100 a day.

This war is an abomination. The leadership of our government is an abomination. We MUST make a change. We must make it soon.

my journal

I have kept a journal for over 30 years. When I was young I wrote in an old ledger. It was huge. 17" x 12" tall and heavy. It had lined, numbered pages and I wrote long narratives in pen. I had that journal for several years. I finally got tired of it and moved to an 8" x 12" bound blank-page sketch book. I began writing in different colored inks, script sometimes, print other times. I began gluing in movie tickets and photos and doing collages. I have filled many, many of those sketch books. I would use one book a year. Some years I had to use more than one book. Whether I had completed the book or not I would start a new book each and every January 1st. Occassionally, I would off road to another smaller art book for special trips or themes.

About 8 years ago I began keeping my journal in a 5 1/2" x 8" unlined book that I bought from Levenger's. Levenger's sells this wonderful book called the Stanley Journal. It has a nice leather sleeve and replaceable journal incerts. I used this journal for about 6 years. As I began to paint more frequently in my journals the thinness of the paper became an issue. While the paper is lovely, it didn't handle fountain pen or markers without bleeding through.

About 2 years ago I began using a moleskine sketchbook as a journal. I've used the 5" x 8 1/4" sketchbook, plain notebook, and the squared notebook. While I love the design and feel of the book itself, none of them take water color paint well. The thinner paper of the plain notebook buckles easily and certain inks bleed through. The heavy sketchbook paper seems to have some kind of coating that causes water color paint to bead on it. However, liking the book itself, I persevered and have adjusted to this quirkiness in the moleskine sketchbook.

My most recent change in journals has been to the 3 1/2" x 5 1/2" moleskine sketchbook. The size forces me to write smaller and to journal alongside drawings and doodles. I've been using the smaller sketchbooks for about 3 years to do small drawings and paintings but haven't used them as a journal. I've filled 1/2 a dozen of these little books and carried them along with my larger journal. Too much stuff. So I'm downsizing.

With money from my mom for xmas I've purchased a cover for my moleskine sketchbook from Renaissance-Art. It fits the small book like a glove. The leather is high quality, durable and attactive. The stitching is strong and should wear well. The cover doesn't hinder the ease and comfort of the moleskine at all. Renaissance Art also makes covers for the larger sized moleskine as well. I'm pleased with this new variation of my journal. I highly recommend this product to other moleskine lovers.

A Birthday

Today is the 54th birthday of my favorite person in the whole world - my sister, Brenda. Happy Birthday Bren! I miss you and hope to see you soon.

February 12th

I remember when the nation celebrated the birthday of Abraham Lincoln as a separate holiday. Prior to the acceptance of M.L.King's birthday as a national holiday we looked forward to 2 national holidays in February - Feb 12th and Feb 22nd for George Washington's birthday. Two 3-day weekends in the coldest month of the winter was a welcome relief from "having" to go out into the bitter cold.

No sense in avoiding this next paragraph.

C & S, "the" best friends, moved yesterday morning to MD. They came and picked up their dogs, the movers packed their belongings and they drove north to their new home. So it's done. We now live 800+ miles apart. For right now it just feels like any other Monday. I don't usually see them during the week. Sometimes C comes over on Wednesday nights, but our usual time together is Friday night and either Sat or Sun or both. During the week we exchange email and phone calls. This week will feel typical. This weekend I am going away and would not see them anyway, and then next week, another typical week of emails and phone calls. After that - adjustment.

I had trouble with my car and it is in the shop. I was in Fernandina Beach and the car was over heating like crazy. I made it back to town and took it to the mechanic and he opened the hood and saw immediately that the radiator was cracked. So the radiator has to be replaced. He will take the opportunity to replace all the hoses and $456 later I should be safe to drive to S. Florida on Friday. I really can't complain about it. This car has been strong and dependable for 10 years. I'm almost at 101,000 miles. We've only spent a moderate amount on general, regular maintenance. It's never been a problem.

I've got a damn cold again. Doesn't seem as bad as it was 2 months ago when I had it. But it's still a pain in the ass. I'm working through it and just feeling like shit, which I would feel like if I stayed home in bed all day with it. Might as well work. F has it too and she has it worse than me this time.

I've been trying to do at least one sketch everyday. I am trying to limber up my drawing skills. I hope to do a lot of quick sketches when we are in Santa Fe in April. I don't want to be so rusty.

The thing about drawing is the more I do it the easier it gets and that happens relatively quickly. But I never feel competent or secure in that and as a result it is not relaxing for me to draw. It creates tension for me. I have performance anxiety about it. Even if it's just me and I can throw the paper away and no one will know. I could still feel embarassed to myself about my lack of drawing skills. I'm trying to get past that and draw anyway. I'd like to work through the anxiety and get to a place where I can enjoy it like I enjoy doing abstract works.

When I do abstract drawings it doesn't matter to me if it doesn't work. Most of them don't. That's okay because I enjoyed the time I spent doing it whether it works as a picture or not. When it does work as a picture it is something I will enjoy each time I look at it. When it doesn't, I just look at the next picture.

And tomorrow is another day.

The Rising Swarm

We've been gifted with the "swarm" visiting us again, teaching me more than I ever wanted to know about patience. Notice I didn't say more than I needed to know. The swarm has grown by one, there are now 7 dachshunds when all together. For the most part 6 hang out in the same place at any given time.

In the morning, the only free and alone time I have, they pile up on my lap, spill across my thighs, make themselves comfortable, and go to sleep. Part of my morning schedule is to write in my journal, do some doodling, paint in wc, etc. What skills I am learning do be able to do all this with a swarm pile in my lap!

This morning I wrote about a dream I had travelling the country in a 5th wheel with (only) 2 dachshunds. I did this quick sketch of the trailer from my dreams while leaning my 3 1/2" x 5 1/2" moleskine sketchbook on Ben's head. Not too bad. A few sweeping strokes as he tried to watch what I was doing. I didn't mind that so much as I minded his snicker when he saw the drawing.

"The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves." (Carl Jung)

John