Archive for 2011

Taking the Fragile Bull By the Horns?

March 16, 2011

There are a variety of lessons coming out of Japan right now–in disaster preparedness, the stalwart nature of the Japanese people, nuclear power back-up systems (and the possible futility thereof); lessons too about the incredible bravery of nuclear plant personnel.

One of the most immediate teachings concerns the fragility of life (a lesson that for me, at least, is oft-repeated but little-absorbed.)

Whoosh!

How quickly one’s agenda become detritus around one’s feet.

How suddenly the “put-off” becomes the “no longer possible,” all those fault lines beneath our plans turning out to be, in fact, faulty.

Time to re-examine priorities.  (Oh sure.)   To figure out the difference between all that onerous stuff one tells one’s self one has to do, and all that onerous stuff one really does have to do.

This is very hard.  All those tasks feel like a bull we’ve got by the horns.

Do we really need to fight so hard?  (You try letting go.)

Will we actually be gored?  (Maybe.)

Can we tame it?

Hard to know.  Harder still to appreciate the view through the horns.

PS- I just thought that one way to tell the difference between the onerous tasks one thinks one has to do, and the onerous tasks one really does have to do may be to substitute the word “honorable” for onerous.

Impression of Images of Japan Post-Tsunami – A Detailed Shattering

March 14, 2011

The news out of Japan continues to be heartbreaking.  The translated words of  survivors are  devastating, their  stoicism inspiring (and devastating).

The landscape is, of course, devastated.  One of the most shocking aspects of the images, for me, is simply the clutter, the jam of detritus, the  crisscross of shard, the shattered layering of mud and rooftop and car, fender and mattress, washing basin, chair, the wayward smile of child’s illustrated toy.

One doesn’t associate this kind of disarray with Japan.  Crushes, yes, odd disjointed pairings (Colonel Sanders in the Ginza), but always, always, even in the plastic samples of dinner offerings in restaurant windows, there is a carefully decorous attention to detail.

I think of a visit there many years ago.  Every leaf in our host’s not-inconsiderable garden seemed to extend from its twig (every twig from its branch) at a gently harmonious angle; the man-made and the organic accompanied each other like thirds or fifths or beautifully atonal sevenths in a single line of music.   Yet the details were executed so thoughtfully that the garden (okay, forget about the plastic food) also seemed perfectly natural, randomly special–signs of forceful manicure a la Versailles were no where visible.

In the images of the last few days, one is conscious of a great and terrible force, careless of both men and the man-made, nature at its most ungentle,

Worried about Japan

March 13, 2011

No iPad 2 or Phone….

March 12, 2011

Interest in my household in the iPad 2

As an avid user of the Brushes painting app on the iPhone 4, I have waited eagerly for the iPad 2.  (Finally, I could make little “paintings” without the constant zoom.)

I’m not normally a gadget-freak, but I really have been bitten by this painting app, so I was set to buy yesterday, launch day, March 11.

I’d reviewed the differences between wireless and 3G, the various gigabites, the types of dock.

My only point of indecision was whether to order online or go to an actual store (completely uncharacteristic of me), so I could get the stupid thing sooner.

Then I woke up Friday, as we all did, to news of the Japanese earthquake.  My consumerist zeal crumpled so fast I didn’t even have time to be embarrassed of myself.  How could I think of anything but the news, the wave, the reactor, the discipline and indominability of the Japanese people?

And yet, and yet–as the day moved on, I called Apple–not to actually place an order–I still didn’t feel up to that–but to ask more questions.  Shipping times were up to two or three weeks by then.

Two to three weeks!

I checked out the lines at the stores.   I even resorted, repeatedly,  to Twitter trying to get current info.

I thought of getting up at 5 this morning and going to tbe Fifth Avenue flagship store.  (I didn’t, which was just as well, since they were sold out of the model I wanted.)

In the midst of all this –how could I think of buying stuff in the face of the nuclear reactor explosion– I spilled tea on my iPhone.

It was only for a moment, it wasn’t boiling, but… yikes.

My addiction stared me in the face.  As did the price tag of a new phone.

How could I even think of pencils and paper?  Paint?  An iPad 2?

Heat blowers, rice bowls, more heat blowers…. it seems to be working….

Aahhh…..

Dear Japan

March 11, 2011

Thinking of you.

Dancing in the Dark (Pink Elephants)

March 10, 2011

Followers of this blog may notice that I’ve descended into the world of elephants and iPhone art over the last few months.  (Those who disagree with my views on art and politics may consider this an ascension.)

I genuinely like elephants!  (I’m guessing you’ve noticed.)

I’m also having a hard time writing blogs lately.  Part of the problem is that the news feels almost as grim to me as the weather.  The outbreaks of protest and democracy in the Middle East are pretty amazing, but there still seems to be a pall over much of the world, or, over this country at least–bifurcated clouds of threat and slog.

Of course, there’s always poetry!  Fiction!  Important loves (besides elephants.)  However, in the face of a world of publishing which seems increasingly fragmented –divided between an impossibly crowded field of micro-sellers and a few celebrity blockbusters–even these have, for the moment, lost some of their glint/promise/appeal.

I tell myself: change happens!  Transitions are messy!   Dispiriting confusion is part of the mix!

Yes.

And too, there are elephants.

Which, when they are not stampeding, have a certain timeless sweetness.

In my book;  on my iPhone screen; dancing, pinkly, through a (temporarily, I hope) darkened mind.

(PS – the elephant book is 1 Mississippi; the poetry is Going On Somewhere. Both are available on Amazon.  Check them out!)

Old dog, night walk

March 10, 2011

My old dog, increasingly blind,

My old dog Pearl is increasingly blind, especially in darkness.  The leash tends to provide reassurance rather than restraint.  Sometimes, I find myself completely leading her on a walk, as if I were her seeing eye person.  I have to be careful to avoid the bottoms of park benches, the sides of steps.  (She frequently veers to one side, which leads her into such obstacles.)

Other times, scent takes over and she, with canine persistence, pulls me along, avidly reading a kind of olefactory hieroglyphic.  I never am sure of what she actually sees, only that she knows exactly where she wants to be.

Unexpected Harbingers of Spring

March 8, 2011

Not exactly Robin's egg.

 

Many wonders–as in bare sidewalks, sun, snowdrops(!)–now to be seen in Battery Park City, NYC.

Belated Happy Birthday Michelangelo Buonarroti! (With Elephant)

March 7, 2011

He'd be 535 today. You'll have to imagine the candles (and elephant.)

 

Errr…. actually that was yesterday (March 6th)….  I mean, the day before yesterday….    (Time flies at 535.)

Charlie Sheen- Some people just don’t listen to their guardian elephant.

March 7, 2011