Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving I am truly thankful for my family and friends, those near and those far away, as well as those who have helped me academically during the last year. I am also thankful for the expert medical care I received and for continuing improved health.

So far my health and my strength are better than they have been for more than a year. I really felt a turn around when my weight began to increase steadily over the past two months and is now back up to the ten pounds I had lost since my surgery in February. Even my muscle tone has returned to a healthy firmness and my skin has healthy color as well and I feel so much better every day. I feel like a million dollars and now my clothes fit again too!

And thanks to my Modern British Poetry class this semester, I learned through my research of the poem "The Waste Land" by T.S. Eliot that there is such a thing as "sympathetic magic," something I knew about vaguely, but I realized it truly applies when it comes to my health and sense of well-being. The vegetation rituals and fertility rites that were enacted to produce energy and life can be very effective when acted out in faith. This is what Abraham did when he believed God's promise that he would have a son in his old age. The scriptures say that he didn't consider his body that was as good as dead, or the deadness of Sara's womb, but he had respect toward the promise of God that He was able to do what He had promised. I am most thankful for that lesson and the life it has brought forth in me even when my own body was a waste land.

Abraham wasn't enacting a pagan ritual, of course, but by faith he believed God and it was counted to him as righteousness, and he received his promise, his own son Isaac. I think my professors are shamans, I learn so much from them because of their participation in the learning process! The learning process forces me to push myself to reach new goals and obtain knowledge that is useful in my own life.

Horn Seed Company: Gardening in the Fall

One of my favorite things to do in my spare time is go to my favorite gardening store, Horn Seed Co. in Oklahoma City. Especially in the Fall when gardening begins to slow down for winter, I can't help needing a garden fix to get me through the colder months. Horn's always has an amazing display of beautiful plants, both seasonal and year around, ranging from cactus varieties, perennials, annuals, vines, shrubs, trees, herbs and seeds.

Horn's also carries a large selection of garden items such as bird baths, bird houses, wind chimes and garden accents of all kinds, along with gardening tools and materials. There is always something beautiful and unexpected for each season. One of the features that captivates me along with the sights and scents of the garden are the sounds of wind chimes, running water, and the classical music which plays throughout the greenhouse and store for the enjoyment of the plants and customers. Everything they do at Horn's is with expert taste and care.

Last week, although most of the summer inventory has been put away, the greenhouse was still alive with beautiful fall color. I took a few pictures of my fall favorites: pansies, mums, ornamental cabbages both small and large, multi-colored ornamental peppers, and some Dwarf Alberta Spruce trees that were ready for the Holiday season.

I also found a cast iron Hibachi grill that can be used to grill with or to burn scented wood. I asked if it was for sale because I've been looking for one a long time with no luck. This one was used, but the design was perfect for me. The owner said I could buy it for only $7.00, which was beyond generous (photos below).

Ornamental peppers and yellow mums

Pansies and small ornamental cabbages

Small ornamental cabbages

More varieties of ornamental cabbages

Dwarf Spruce tree, large ornamental Peacock (brassica) kale and red mums

New-to-me Hibachi grill

Exploring "The Wasteland":

Here is the link to a blog I started to explore themes of T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland":

http://fullfathomfiv.blogspot.com/

The Hawk of Gold

After "the last two weeks'" posts about hawks, reading poems about hawks and different beliefs and representations of hawks in nature and in ancient cultures, especially studies in the ancient Egyptian culture, along with the poem by Aleister Crowley who saw the hawk-god Horus as one of the foundations of his religious theory, I had to wonder about a visit that turned "a golden hawk against the turquoise heavens" from lore to legend yesterday just outside my door.

Previously, when I was taking a semester course about Edgar Allen Poe I kept having a large black raven that came and roosted on the street lamp post that stands next to where I park my car in front of my apartment. He would especially like it when my phone would go off while I was checking my oil and it would play "Electric Feel" by MGMT. He would flap his wings and make a lot of caw-ing sounds. He even tapped on my window one morning which woke me when I overslept and I would have missed class.

I wanted to feed him, but when I checked on the habits of crows and ravens, I found out from Wild Birds Unlimited in OKC that if you make the mistake of feeding a crow, they will return with lots of their friends and can become pests and even destructive if you don't supply them all with food! So I thought I'd let nature take care of itself and enjoy the visits while they lasted.

However, yesterday was the first time I have had a golden hawk appear roosting at the top of the same light post. He watched with huge golden eyes, looking down on us as we passed him, and only when I got excited about the unusual occurrence and squealed in excitement that a hawk would appear so close to my house inside the area where I live did he decide to take flight back to the tree tops.

In the years I have lived in Edmond, it is the first time I have seen a large hawk, the type that is usually only seen in rural areas and not the small urban dwelling gray Georgian hawks. I was amazed when our eyes met!

I don't believe that things happen by coincidence, which made me think, "Are we being watched?!" Maybe only the hawk-god Horus or Mr. Crowley knows for sure! But look at those amber-colored eyes!!

The Hawk and Mr. Crowley

"Hawk Roosting" by Ted Hughes is a contrast in modern style when compared to the poem by Aleister Crowley, "The Hawk and the Babe." Hughes' poem is more direct, like the flight of the hawk, and shows a more modern approach to the subject of his poem and it's reference to humanity.

Although the poem by Crowley depicts the imagery and nature of the hawk, the language is more ornate and ornamental, of an older, romantic style. His language identifies him with the gold and turquoise of Heaven as seen in his studies of ancient Egyptian religion. Welcome to the magical world of Aleister Crowley.


The Hawk and the Babe by Aleister Crowley
[Dedicated to Raymond Radclyffe]

I am that hawk of gold
Proud in adamantine poise
On the pillars of torqoise,
See,beyond the starry fold,
Where a darkling orb is rolled.

There, beneath a grove of yew,
Plays a babe. Should I despise
Such a foam of gold, and eyes
Burning beryline, so blue
That the sun seems peeping through?

Did I swwop, were Heaven amazed?
With my beak I strike but once;
Out there leap a million suns.
Through the universe that blazed
Screams theit light, and death is dazed.

In my womb the babe may leap;
Seek him not within my eye!
Nor demand thou of me why
I should plunge from crystal steep
Like a plummet to the deep!

See yon solitary star!
What a world of blackness wraps
Round it! Unimagined gaps!
Let it be! Content thy car
With the voyage to things that are!

Nor, an thou perchance behold
How I plunge and batten on
Earth's exentrate carrion,
Deem torquoise match midden-mould
Or deny the Hawk of Gold!

"Hawk Roosting"

In the Native American tradition it is recognized that the eagle and the hawk function in a somewhat different way. The eagle uses his ability to see the whole picture or general area, then movement, then he finds his specific prey. The hawk is more specific, sees his prey and goes directly for it. The difference in seeing the whole picture compared to the more specific approach is demonstrated well in the following poem by Ted Hughes. The poem uses the personification of a hawk to consider in human terms what can become a predatory nature when a view is adopted that separates one from cooperative evolvingness or community, in shamanistic terms, one who becomes separate from their community can become inadvertently or purposefully harmful:

"Hawk Roosting Analysis" by Ted Hughes

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.

Inaction, no falsyfing dream

Between my hooked head and hooked feet:

Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.The convenience of the high trees!



The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray

Are of advantage to me;

And the earth's face upward for my inspection.My feet are locked upon the rough bark.

It took the whole of Creation

To produce my foot, my each feather:

Now I hold Creation in my footOr fly up, and revolve it all slowly-

I kill where I please because it is all mine.

There is no sophistry in my body:

My manners are tearing off heads-The allotment of death.

For the one path of my flight is direct

Through the bones of the living.

No arguments assert my right:The sun is behind me.

Nothing has changed since I began.

My eye has permitted no change.

I am going to keep things like this.

The Ancient Egyptians used the symbolic form of the hawk as the most powerful representation of the sun god Ra, also known as Ra-Horakhty, Ra - Lord of the Horizons. The hawk form of this deity represents ruler of the sun, sky and horizons which are symbolic of death and rebirth. Ra is considered to die in the west every evening, travel through the underworld in the belly of the sky goddess, Nut, and be re-born every morning, younger than the day before. He represents renewal and many other realms, such as Ruler over all the other gods and keeping them in line, ruler over the Pharaohs, over property, and much more. The pharaoh was also associated with this deity, as his representative, and he held the kingdom in his grip, much like the hawk in Hughes' poem as he held the bark in his grip or rotated the whole creation in his foot as ruler over all.

Ra-Horakhty


My eye: as the Eye of Horus/Eye of Ra

"In Praise of Limestone"

W.H. Auden's poem "In Praise of Limestone" was one of the poems we read this week in our class (Modern British Literature). The poem appeared in our reading schedule at the same time I happened to be working with Plaster of Paris to make a mold of a Roman theater mask so I could hang it on the brick wall in my garden above the cobalt glazed ceramic birdbath. The original mask is heavy and also might disappear if hung outside, so I am attempting to make a duplicate with a plaster cast. I forgot how messy plaster can be, although I have been living in its dust for the last few weeks.

The last few weeks my house has been covered with dust in my apartment from builders who were replacing our roof. Before they could complete the roof, it rained heavily and ended up raining into our apartment and ruining much of the ceiling. The work continued inside the house with sheets of plastic covering everything in several rooms, but the sheet rock and plaster dust still managed to escape and leave a thick layer of fine white dust on everything in the house so I'm still working on excavating the rooms. The workers even left all the sheets and mess for an entire weekend where we had no room to move except a small area in one room to sleep on the floor! Boy, can I relate to this poem!! I have slept, ate and drank the dust of limestone or similar compound for a while now. So, while I am enjoying the results of our new roof and ceiling, rediscovering my space and belongings, and shaping new forms of creativity with the very limestone dust he speaks about, I thought I would take some time as Auden did, to praise the Limestone.

I couldn't help to think of the area around Naples that he visited while writing his poem and all the landscape and ruins that surround the area. The past and the present are embedded in the landscape and I found some images of the limestone features included below:

Italian Car in Ischia: This little lime-colored car would be fun to drive around in to see all the sites/sights...


Herculaneum Fresco: An example of pigment in limestone which retains its color over time.

Herculaneum - Painted Columns: Similar pigmentation used in limestone as well as the walls which have been layered over the centuries.


A Pompei couple: Dressed up in "the best" for their portrait, the baker and his wife want to be remembered as literate and elegant.



Plaster cast of a Pompei citizen caught in "the worst" destruction at the time of Mt. Vesuvius' eruption:

Neptune, Triton with various sea creatures/Tiled Womens' Bath which contains no water, but still retains "an older colder voice, the oceanic whisper:"


View from Ischia:

Sometimes the best interpretation of a poem is how we interact with it, whether by interacting with the text mentally or through hands-on experience. Limestone and water seem to mix well, but Auden says it so beautifully in the last lines of his poem:

Dear, I know nothing of
Either, but when I try to imagine a faultless love
Or the life to come, what I hear is the murmur
Of underground streams, what I see is a limestone landscape.

"In Memory of Sigmund Freud"

W. H. Auden writes about Sigmund Freud in his poem "In Memory of Sigmund Freud" and first asks: "When there are so many we shall have to mourn, / when grief has been made so public, and exposed / to the critique of a whole epoch / the frailty of our conscience and anguish," and in the next stanza, "of whom shall we speak?"

Sigmund Freud, "an important Jew who died in exile," who gave back to humanity "while as they lie in the grass of our neglect, / so many long-forgotten objects / revealed by his undiscouraged shining" and which "are returned to us and made precious again; / games we thought we must drop as we grew up, / little noises we dared not laugh at, / faces we made when no one was looking." Auden goes on to say "But he wishes us more than this. To be free / is often to be lonely. He would unite / the unequal moieties fractured / by our own well-meaning sense of justice, "...

Auden speaks of our fractured inner lives as "exiles who long for the future" and in the next stanza he continues the stream of thought: "that lives in our power, they too would rejoice / if allowed to serve enlightenment like him / even to bear our cry of 'Judas', / as he did and all must bear who serve it."

We live now "in a world he changed / simply by looking back with no false regrets; / all he did was to remember / like the old and be honest like children." and we are now "able to approach the Future as a friend / without a wardrobe of excuses, without / a set mask of rectitude or an / embarrassing over-familiar gesture."

The accomplishments Freud made by developing scientific methods of psychoanalysis through talk therapy between a patient and analyst, through dream analysis and free association, entering the subconscious realm where he descended and embraced humanity on its deepest level with love rather than hate helped restore life in a broken world. He also taught by example which was one of the best accomplishments of all.

“We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love.” ― Sigmund Freud

“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” ― Sigmund Freud

"A Splash Quite Unnoticed"

W.H. Auden wrote about the fall of Icarus in his poem, "Musée des Beaux Arts" about the apathy with which individuals view human suffering. The poem was written after his visit to the Museum of Fine Arts in Brussels in 1938 and is about the painting of Pieter Brueghel the Elder, "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus". Auden uses juxtaposition, enjambment and flow-of-thought technique to contrast the Old Master's technique of depicting casual daily life with the contradicting tragedy of Icarus drowning.

The same painting was written about later in a poem by an American modern poet, Williams Carlos Williams, "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus." The use of enjambment in Williams' poem helps to create a spiraling sense of urgency and disorder to the flow-of-thought technique. The broken lines also force our eyes to spiral to the next line, to digress from the sky to the landscape and to the sea where Icarus fell in the painting, surprisingly almost insignificantly.

In each of their poems the poet and the artist are using similar techniques.



In another poem by Stevie Smith, "Not Waving But Drowning," the indifference of humanity to recognize the suffering of others is brought to the reader's attention with the technique of parallel writing, where the narrator and the subject are juxtaposed to draw the reader in and identify with the subject who has drowned.

In Stevie Smith's poem there is no painting, but the psychological imagery and auditory impression of the dead moaning are impressed upon the reader in a vivid way.

Imagine "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

Reading T.S. Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" brings many images to mind. His poem is rich with descriptions that create emotions, a sense of setting and descriptions that reveal the character J. Alfred Prufrock who dares to disturb the universe to step out and ask a question. Although the poem is abstract, he makes some references which create images of an aging man in pursuit of life and love, although he doesn't seem quite sure how to go about it and seems to wonder if it is too late. The poem's use of fragmentation and allusions to other works such as Dante's Inferno are similar to techniques used in his poem "The Wasteland," although the references were more recent works. His stream of consciousness was also similar, yet the transitions were more evident and his poem seemed more modern in its technique. He seems to be evolving, yet not quite solving the riddle, but answering the question with his own questions of a man's place in the universe.

I couldn't help wondering how others might imagine the protagonist Prufrock, so I looked online and found some interesting artwork with images of him:









There will be time "for revisions and decisions which a minute will reverse."

Edith Sitwell and "The Beekeeper"

Edith Sitwell's poem "The Beekeeper" was set to music by Priaulx Rainier as "The Bee Oracles," as mentioned in her biography on the link to Wikipedia. I like that her work included her love for landscaping and an interest in bees, as well as her notorious reading of Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene as she toured the United States with her brothers and did poetry readings.

Although I didn't find a recording of Priaulx Rainier's "The Bee Oracles," her stringed trios were famous for their representation of nature in her sounds. The recording found on Youtube mentions that a BBC Invitation Concert in 1967 presented four works, including the first performance of the String Trio and the Suite for solo cello. In 1976 the BBC recorded and broadcast the complete chamber music, including her largest chamber work "The Bee Oracles."

Sitwell's interest in the distinction between poetry and music, applied to abstract performances is also something that I appreciate about her work as well, and that her flat was a meeting place for young writers which she befriended and helped with their work and publishing.

Faerie Garden

Faerie Garden:
Butterfly house made from a cigar box (photo).

I've always loved cigar boxes. I used the cigar box above made of wood with an aromatic scent to make a butterfly house. Inside the box is a strip of bark for the butterflies to make their habitat. The tree stump is a stand for the box as well as a habitat for small insects and frogs that hide there. A hummmingbird feeder hangs from the opposite side and a ceramic mushroom rises from the bottom of the stump to provide an umbrella of shade for small guests.



Looking at the garden center plants on Saturday morning I stumbled upon a bumble bee among the perennials. He was drinking deeply from the pink chalices of the Summer Romance variety which seems to be filled with sweet god-like nectar. His wings were glistening in the softened sunlight filtering through the mesh netting, his colors bright and vibrant. His wings fit like a vest sized too small for his bulbous body which lifted him from chalice to chalice in an almost clumsy effort that seemed to defy gravity. Although the flapping of his wings could not lift his heavier body, the bumbblebee has discovered the secret of vibrating and creating enough lift to get the job done, which has the added effect of producing his buzzing sound.

This humble bee was even patient enough to allow me to watch him close at work, or at his leisure, for he was sipping delicately from the top of each blossom and seemed to be enjoying each goblet down to the last drop, tipping them to reach their core before going to the next. According to some sources, not all bees behave as well, some rob the flower by drilling straight into the core from the bottom, draining the flower without the flower benefiting from the pollination. Ahh, such a gluttonous little bee! And I, such a voyer of nature.

How The End always is:

The end is near to another semester, a final count down ... My best to all your finals ...

... and hoping to see you back in the Fall again!
Unless you're a die-hard like me and come back for summer sessions.

join me on youtube anytime:

http://www.youtube.com/user/matsu1977?feature=mhum

Updates

In January, Mori was born healthy and already putting his parents to the test. When the time came for his arrival, the plan to have a home-birth came into full-bloom suddenly. However, the arrival of the midwife was delayed while she was caught in traffic on her way from Tulsa to Norman. The father, Michael, had to follow through with the delivery himself, while Cassie put her trust in her husband to bring them safely through! Moriah was definitely a joyful beginning, putting his life in his father's hands while teaching his first lesson on who's the boss, at least for a little while, Go Mori! Father, Mother and son were all doing fine afterward with an experience to remember that few have shared.

Last week I got a call from my friend John that I got back in touch with recently. He was at the hospital after having some tests done for his liver and treatment. He said that his doctor told him he would not be getting on the list for a liver transplant. I asked him why not, I was worried that maybe he wouldn't be eligible if it was necessary. John said, "It's because I am doing so well my doctor said I won't be needing one!" The doctor told him that his liver has improved and is in the process of healing itself since the stints were put in place during his last surgery. What great news to share!

The concert we were going to attend with his roommate's band last month however fell through. They decided to check out the place before committing to play and the venue turned out to be a redneck bar that would have been more likely to develop into a scene for fights and harassment, so not really worth it.

This weekend will be a different venue, so we are looking forward to trying again. Next month, Leonard, his roommate who plays the drums, will also be playing at the the Hawq Lakes Bike Rally and will be playing drums on stage with Otis Redding and Black Oak Arkansas. Wow, I can't believe that band is still around! If I'm up to it, I may go for the last day of the event to hear them play, we'd get to go in along with the roadies so it will be hassle-free.




As for my daughter, she is getting ready to take yet another bus trip, this time to Lawrence, KS to visit her father. I should be relieved that at least she will be visiting her dad and her uncle, right?

Interpol - Cain's Ballroom 4/20, Tulsa

Interpol

Being in Tulsa on Wednesday for doctor appointments has been an opportunity to take in some culture when possible. This week was exceptional, with a show including Interpol that opened with The School of Seven Bells. If you haven't heard TSSB before, they have a sound similar to the Cocteau Twins. Interpol was amazing to see live! The lead vocalist/guitarist, Paul Banks always makes me think of Ian Curtis/Joy Division. Although I sat/stood on the bench on the side of the ballroom, it was close enough to enjoy the show close up and relax at the same time. Don't let my doctor know I took in a show, the smoke was from the fog machines...

The only excitement aside from the show was the fact that when I got back to my car, my banana had liquefied in its plastic bag! I have no idea what would cause a banana to do that! It wasn't even hot outside. Pretty scary, what if that had been my brain?

Indian Trading Post

Saturday, after seeing my daughter off to work, I decided to take a drive west on Route 66. I went as far as Geary, OK, which is only around 40 miles west of OKC, but it was evening and I wanted to see the sunset from closer up. I noticed I was in Seminole/Cherokee territory. I took I-40 back to OKC, which has a couple of Indian Trading Posts at each of its highway exits so I decided to get out and take a look around before returning to the city. My happy hunting grounds turned out to be an antique store/art gallery/trading post with lots of interesting items and artifacts.

The first trading post had a KOA camp with bronze painted buffalo outside. Inside, I spoke to one of the shopkeepers and he said the trading post had been there since the 1950's. It had first started at the owner's home, where they would hang hand-woven rugs on their clothesline and set hand woven baskets and arts and crafts out in their yard since their home was on Route 66. Once they began building their business and the interstate was built, they decided to open their store where it is now, not far from their beginning. The owner and his wife have died, but their daughter still operates the store. The store still carries buffalo and cow hides, hand woven rugs and baskets, and hand beaded moccasins of all sizes, as well as some handmade jewelry, pottery, and kachina dolls.

Up the street from the first trading post, I found the second one (photos above). The shopkeeper was laughing that the man who had just bought a large piece of furniture didn't believe she could help him load it on his truck. She showed him she had no problem with the chore. Time was running out, since the sun was about to set, so I didn't get to explore for long.

One artifact was the Native American statue, which I remember seeing when I was a kid traveling with my parents. He was also saluting the sunset and much closer to the sun than me, being three stories high. I found a large gourd that was perfect to use with a wreath of fall leaves I made.

The weather was perfect, not as windy as it has been. The trip was a nice get-away with many wildflowers and wildlife to see on the way, as well as a view of Fort Reno with its history on the prarie. I hope to take a trip to the Alabaster Caverns and to "No Man's Land" in the panhandle sometime before summer gets here, although I hope to keep going west into New Mexico and visit the Santa Fe area.

Dumpster Diving is an Art

While driving in Edmond I happened to pass a business on one of the side streets downtown. Outside the business, between streets, a dumpster was near the road and a large framed art print was leaning against the dumpster. Someone had put it out as trash, but maybe had a second thought before throwing it into the dumpster. My daughter said, "Stop, there's an American Indian painting!" So we stopped and she got out and brought it to the car. It appeared to have been in storage and was covered with dust and dirt, but not harmed at all. The colors and detail are much more beautiful than the photo can represent (above).

Once we brought the picture home, I was amazed that when the metal frame and glass were easily cleaned it revealed a lithograph of a limited edition poster, #42, signed by a Southwestern artist, Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr. I did some research on the picture and the artist and discovered that it was made in 1987 (which would explain the dust and cobwebs), and that the black pottery and black night sky had a special significance.

The painting, titled San Ildefonso, also happens to be a location near Santa Fe, New Mexico. The town is famous for its development of black-on-black pottery which was first started in San Ildefonso by Maria Martinez and her husband. Together they collected clay from the Black Mesa which is not far from the town and began to work the clay in black-on-black Pueblo designs.

The town of San Ildefonso was an agriculturally based economy until the late 20th century when Maria Martinez and her husband Julian rediscovered how to make the black-on-black pottery such as is seen in the artwork of the ancient Greeks. Since the development of the Martinez's pottery, the Pueblo area has become more of a tourist area with tourist shops and fine works of art.

The artist, Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr., works from inspiration by places such as San Ildefonso as a tribute to the Native Americans and their environment, from which he is also a descendant. I was so happy to be able to reclaim this treasure and give it a place of honor in our home.

An example of the pottery in the lithograph:

The Black Mesa:



Amado Maurilio Peña, Jr.

Magic Carpets and Singing Bowls

This is it, the "magic carpet" I saw in Tulsa in February. I was back in Tulsa on Thursday for an appointment with my doctor. Afterward, I stopped again at the Persian Rug shop on Cherry Street. I stopped to park at a meter without realizing that I happened to park right in front of their shop. Inside the shop, the carpet was still in its place and still out of reach - hanging high above a doorway, as well as high in price - but the shop owner welcomed us back and let me take a picture. It's gorgeous, exceptional, authentic and full of mystique.

Stumbling into unexpected out of the way places is one of my favorite things, especially when it happens more than once! The owner said he'd make me a great deal on the carpet, so I may have to take it home with me one day. But for now, I am happy with the mystery.

Next, we made our way to Peace of Mind bookstore where I found a 1929 Edition of the Archko Volume for less than $10, which I did bring home. Downstairs in the shop below the bookstore we found Tibetan singing bowls. We tried some of them out in the store and they sound incredible. The bowls are used to raise a vibration sound that resonates throughout the room. The acoustics in the old building with high ceilings made it even better. My daughter found an antique singing bowl and bought it so we can use it at home. I'm still working on getting the sound without the vibes getting too strong which makes the wooden striker bounce off the side. Takes practice.



They also have the singing bowls that can charge water like the one shown here:



The Carpet Market:

Haitian Oil Drum Art

Recently, while at Full-Circle Book Store in OKC, I ventured to see what life might be left in 50 Penn Place. The fountain had been shut off for the day, or maybe longer with so many of the stores closing and property leased to technical schools. The escalators were still running so I went upstairs to find Route 66, an upscale clothing store with eclectic art, to see how they were surviving.

Luckily, they were still open. After talking with the owner, I noticed a wall hanging 48" in diameter of "The Tree of Life" which was made in Haiti from a recycled steel oil drum (photo above). It was a beautiful demonstration of artwork, resourcefulness and determination of the human spirit to survive in Haiti. I personally enjoy working with metal, listening to metal and also looking at metal. It is inspiring to see a work of art recycled from environmental waste and reclaimed. They (the people and their art) are truly amazing.

Checkin out...

The morning I was checking out of the hospital after my surgery in February, my daughter was taking a picture out of the window of my room. I asked her what she was looking at and she said "the labyrinth, didn't you see it?" I didn't walk close enough to the window before that to see the view below where I stayed. I was glad I didn't miss it, one of my favorite themes! As we were leaving, I said I felt good enough to walk out on my own, without the use of a wheel chair, so the nurse insisted on accompanying me. I said that was good, because it is not easy to find my way out of a hospital, much like walking through a maze. A maze is different than a labyrinth, designed with a different purpose in mind.

At Full-Circle Book Store, I also came across a book on the subject of labyrinths written by three local authors. "Oklahoma Labyrinths - a path to inner peace," by Gail Peck, Linda Yeingst and Phyllis Pennington covers information about labyrinths in Oklahoma, some of the history behind labyrinths and the spiritual and cultural aspects of a labyrinth. It even includes a photo of the labyrinth I saw from my window. Looks very interesting!

(Picture my daughter took of the view of the Labyrinth from my room)

I Like to Dream, yeah....

I just had one of my wishes answered, to see a friend I had known many years ago. We had a close relationship for a short time when I was fifteen years old, but since he was eighteen at the time, my family didn't approve and we stopped seeing each other. He was Native American Indian, Cherokee, and he had been adopted by a family after he was "found abandoned in the forest" literally, as a baby. I met him the first time when I went with his brother and his family to church. His brother and I were friends, went to school together and we were both born on the same day in the same year at the same hospital!

My friend's brother, John, who had been adopted, also looked like John Kay (above), the lead singer of Steppenwolf. My friend John and I were both troubled teens, and he had a protective, big brother sense about him. He would walk miles to my house to see me, even with an injured leg. He was also very wild, did a lot of crazy things that got him into trouble sometimes, but was a very kind, honest and thoughtful person. My aunt who I lived with at the time was not favorable about my interest in him and wouldn't allow me to keep seeing him, so we eventually stopped seeing each other. Since then, I wondered about him from time to time and how he was doing. I remember the last time John and I were at my mother's house together, we heard the news on the television that Jim Morrison had just died.

John was on my mind recently again, because during a recent trip to Tulsa I saw an interesting Persian rug shop on my way back from a bookstore on Cherry Street. My daughter and I thought we might find a "magic carpet" there so we stopped inside. After looking around we saw a carpet hanging above a doorway in the back of the store that was an antique rug with beautiful designs. I asked about the price and it was around $2,200! It was a small and valuable antique, but it also seemed like the magic carpet we were hoping to find. I wish I had taken a picture, but the store owner seemed very protective, his arms folded like Aladin as if to keep us from getting too close.

After we left, I was thinking of the song by Steppenwolf, "Magic Carpet Ride," so my friend John came to mind again and because we were driving through so many different Native American territories along the way home. Also, since I had searched for Native American Indian moccasins for my friend's baby shower recently, and making friends with a couple of shop owners I met who are Cherokee and Osage.

Then, this weekend I was at a friend's house with a gathering of people I have known for many years. One couple I have seen within the group of friends, but I hadn't gotten to know them personally. The husband, Gary, started to share with the group that his brother was having serious health problems, and as he started to describe a dream he had about his brother, that his brother was adopted and was a full-blood Native American Indian, John immediately came to my mind. Of course, I also thought that would be impossible. As I listened to him begin to describe his brother's condition, I said, excuse me Gary, what is your brother's name? He told me, and it was my friend John! I shouted, "NO WAY!!" He asked, "Why, do you know him?" We started talking after that and Gary was John's older brother who I hadn't met because he was ten years older than John and was not living at home when I knew his family.

John had some serious health issues recently and almost died of liver failure two times. He also broke his previously injured leg (he stepped into a hole at a party and fell) and it became infected and his leg had to be amputated just below the knee. His brother and wife were happy to get me in touch with John and he contacted me for a visit. I got to see him today and it was so great to find out that although it has been many years, except for his health problems, he is still exactly the same! Another bizarre twist to the story is that his roommate that he is helping, a biker with a Harley, was a drummer for Steppenwolf! He is going to be playing with a band in a concert later this month and John invited me to go.