BirchLane.net
January 2007
Wednesday 31
Tuesday 30
Monday 29
|
Let us not become
weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will
reap a harvest if we do not give up.
~Galatians
6:9 |
Sunday 28
Ghost Trio. When I woke this
morning, I listened to the
EMI recording (Impressions)
of
Jacqueline du Pré playing Beethoven's "Piano Trio No. 5 in D
Op. 70 No. 1 ("Ghost");
with
Pinchas Zukerman playing violin and
Daniel
Barenboim (His
personal website) on piano.
Walking in the late afternoon, I wondered
what the sound was in the weeds to my right. I paused. I
listened. It was a mole. I bent down to see him better; to hold
him--but it burrowed into the ground and I remembered the mole,
or mice, at night, at Birch Lane, January 2002. And I had written:
| On a night
in January when it is cold and dark and the air wet
and snow has not yet fallen I return home from the
city and hear in the pile of decaying leaves behind
the woodpile a sound like one I have never heard
before two sounds two sounds talking hear squeaking
whispering in the leaves I can not see them in the
dark light but I walk toward them toward the
whispering sounds in the leaves my heart racing my
hands warm and wet I walk carefully and I walk
slowly toward the sounds in the woods and soon I see
two small gray mice twirling around in the leaves
and I stand and I watch and the mice stop talking
and stop twirling around in the leaves and run
toward me and first I feel fear and I don't know why
they are god's tiny creations coming toward my feet
and I wonder where I should move or should I stay
standing watching and wondering why I have never
seen them before out here on Birch Lane why I have
not heard them talking in the woods at night and I
remember what a teacher told me he said to be still
in the spirit of the here and now to breathe and to
wait to take time to be holy energy and strength
from quietness and I marvel at the beauty the small
form perfectly doing what it is perfectly designed
to do here tonight when it is still cold and dark
and wet and still the sound lingers in my heart my
soul I go to get Daryl for him to see too and to
hear |
Ana Maria called today. I was out. I
wonder what she wanted. One year ago today we reconnected after
so many years.
Angela also called. She didn't leave a
message. I wondered what she, too, wanted. One year ago come
February; February 13th to be exact, Angela gave me Nadine. I
first met Angela when I lived in Apartment 19 and she asked for
my evaluation of her photos; that must have been in Autumn 2004.
Maybe she read about me and the gallery in The Springfield
Republican; I don't remember. I must ask her.
Meanwhile: It's 11:30 p.m. as I write; I have
20 pages left in Anna's Book, which I will read shortly.
But now, for a few minutes, there is
this.
Saturday 27
More Experiments. I woke at 5:30
this morning and got out of bed. I showered and made coffee. I
weighed myself. I have lost weight. I worked on more quadtones.
Snow fell lightly.
Read. Walked. Worried. Photographed.
Night: I read (Anna's
Book). I took
a bath. I read some more (Bleak
House). I had not thought of this till now, as I write; Anna
of Anna's Book, when not writing in her diary is often
reading--Dickens; and in the novel at one point she is reading
Bleak House for the third time. I should remember to read
Bleak House early in the evening rather than when I am in
bed; it is dense in plot and character; often funny; frequently
poetic; but one needs to be awake and alert to understand all
the stories with the story--and fall to sleep due to its
complexity.
Friday 25
Quadtones and Platinum Prints. I
spent hours today researching quadtones and platinum prints,
wanting to find better ways to create these in Photoshop.
Surprisingly, I found very little helpful information online. I
kept experimenting and with these I am pretty pleased:
Two More
Thursday 25
Sunrise.
Wednesday 24
Flight. We know from our Art
History classes that
Clyfford Still said, "To be stopped by a frame's edge was
intolerable." Yet the edge of a frame is somewhat of a premise
of painting and Still had no strong argument against the
physical fact of the frame; it was, rather, the metaphysical
frame that he fought against; images therefore seek to become
unenclosed by the frame.
Tuesday 23
Nina.
Monday 22
Lists.
Sunday 21
Church. I went to church this
morning. I felt I had the duty to support our church and our
minister; what with our Director of Christian Education being
arrested on charges of child pornography.
Interesting, the scripture reading was
1 Corinthians 12:12-31:
12:12 For just as the body is one and has
many members, and all the members of the body,
though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.
12:13 For in the one Spirit we were all
baptized into one body--Jews or Greeks, slaves or
free--and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.
12:14 Indeed, the body does not consist of
one member but of many.
12:15 If the foot would say, "Because I am
not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would
not make it any less a part of the body.
12:16 And if the ear would say, "Because I am
not an eye, I do not belong to the body," that would
not make it any less a part of the body.
12:17 If the whole body were an eye, where
would the hearing be? If the whole body were
hearing, where would the sense of smell be?
12:18 But as it is, God arranged the members
in the body, each one of them, as he chose.
12:19 If all were a single member, where
would the body be?
12:20 As it is, there are many members, yet
one body.
12:21 The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have
no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I
have no need of you."
12:22 On the contrary, the members of the
body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,
12:23 and those members of the body that we
think less honorable we clothe with greater honor,
and our less respectable members are treated with
greater respect;
12:24 whereas our more respectable members do
not need this. But God has so arranged the body,
giving the greater honor to the inferior member,
12:25 that there may be no dissension within
the body, but the members may have the same care for
one another.
12:26 If one member suffers, all suffer
together with it; if one member is honored, all
rejoice together with it.
12:27 Now you are the body of Christ and
individually members of it.
12:28 And God has appointed in the church
first apostles, second prophets, third teachers;
then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of
assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of
tongues.
12:29 Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are
all teachers? Do all work miracles?
12:30 Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all
speak in tongues? Do all interpret?
12:31 But strive for the greater gifts. And I
will show you a still more excellent way. |
Later, afternoon found me walking with
David on The Manhan Trail; I never noticed this automobile till
then.
I asked if we could stop at The Lower Mill
Pond so we might enjoy the sunset.
Saturday 20
Patience. New project? Possibly?
People seem to love the images.
Friday 19
Light Snow.
Thursday 18
A Different View.
Marcus Aurelius said: "Love the people with whom fate
brings you together, but do so
with all your heart.”
“Adapt
yourself to the things among
which your lot has been cast and
love sincerely the fellow
creatures with whom destiny has
ordained that you shall live.”
“As the same fire assumes
different shapes when it
consumes objects differing in
shape. So does the one Self
take the shape of every creature
in whom he is present.”
“Because a thing seems
difficult for you, do not think
it impossible for anyone to
accomplish.”
“Because your own strength is
unequal to the task, do not
assume that it is beyond the
powers of man; but if anything
is within the powers and
province of man, believe that it
is within your own compass
also.”
“Dig within. Within is the
wellspring of Good; and it is
always ready to bubble up, if
you just dig.”
“When anything tempts you to
be bitter: not, ‘This is a
misfortune‘ but ‘To
bear this worthily is good
fortune.’ “
“How much more grievous are
the consequences of anger than
the causes of it.”
“How much time he saves who
does not look to see what his
neighbor says or does or
thinks.”
“It is not death that a man
should fear, but he should fear
never beginning to live.”
“Let it be your constant
method to look into the design
of people’s actions, and see
what they would be at, as often
as it is practicable; and to
make this custom the more
significant, practice it first
upon yourself.”
“Let men see, let them know,
a real man, who lives as he was
meant to live.”
“Change is Nature’s delight.”
“Men exist for the sake of
one another.”
“Nothing has such power to
broaden the mind as the ability
to investigate systematically
and truly all that comes under
thy observation in life.”
“Poverty is the mother of
crime.”
“Perhaps there are none more
lazy, or more truly ignorant,
than your everlasting readers.”
“The happiness of your life
depends upon the quality of your
thoughts: therefore, guard
accordingly, and take care that
you entertain no notions
unsuitable to virtue and
reasonable nature.”
“The object of life is not to
be on the side of the majority.”
“The secret of all victory
lies in the organization of the
non-obvious.”
“The sexual embrace can only
be compared with music and with
prayer.”
“We are too much accustomed
to attribute to a single cause
that which is the product of
several, and the majority of our
controversies come from that.”
“When you arise in the
morning, think of what a
precious privilege it is to be
alive - to breathe, to think, to
enjoy, to love.”
“Your life is what your
thoughts make it.”
|
Wednesday 17
Faith.
I stood at the window and I stared. Staring
out. Looking in. Staring out. Looking in. Good Morning. Good
Morning? Blessed be morning. Faith. Have I lost my faith? Does
one lose faith? Does faith move mountains? My country priest
says, "Faith is not a thing which one loses, we merely
cease to shape our lives by it." Solvitur ambulando. Morning
blue and cold. And silent. Except for the geese honking below on
The Lower Mill Pond on which a thin sheet of ice skates across
the black surface. Winter morning rises slowly over Mt. Tom. I
found a book outside my door last night. A gift? "The Secret
Books of St. Frances." The book had the character of a small
church missal. An artist's book. God's book. On the cover was a
Durer engraving. Inside; Bible verses and commentary. And a
note: "For Bruce. Edition of One." I stood at the window and I
stared. I recited a poem from "The Secret Books of St.
Frances:"
.
The hand of the Lord was upon me.
I was brought out by the Spirit of the Lord
I was set down in the midst of the valley
It was full of bones and he led me among them
And behold, there were very many upon the valley
And they were very dry and the Lord said to me
"Son of man can these bones live?"
And I answered and again the Lord said
"Say Oh dry bones hear the word of the Lord."
And as I prophesied there was a noise
And behold, a rattling, and the bones
Came together bone to bone and flesh
Had come upon them and skin covered
The bones and then breath from the four winds
And the Lord said I will put the Spirit within you
And you will live.
And now? This morning? Now what I need to be
is to be silent. Today is a new day. A wind of change blows
through my life.
Tuesday 16
Monday 15
Rain Falls on Mt. Tom.
What of the rain? Yesterday. All day;
gray. And rain. And at dusk; blue. Ice Blue. The mountain
covered in a blue blanket. Sleeping. As if it were a blue cat.
Purring. The trees like fur. A blue coat hung over and rolled
down to the valley. The valley filling with a blue darkness.
Silence. Worlds in collision. Nothing recalls love so much as
this dream landscape. Then? A mouth chasing after a turning ear.
Of things not seen. "Thel enter'd in & saw the secrets of the
land unknown." Still life grows. Winter light. Blue. Ice Blue.
The weight of frost the way only the pine tree can feel it. This
morning no trace of blue. Gray. I stood at the window and I
stared.
Religious Icon. Red. Black this morning
the pond. No predicted snow. Rain. And rain through the night.
And nightmares. "For I'm dead and the earth is my cover,/And but
at night I come to thee/Because I love my lover." Nadine
sleeping. Alone. Supernatural. Still she sleeps. And a thick
gray mist sleeps frozen over the mountain. I see it from bed.
What I want is breakfast in bed. With my lover, Rangoon. Yes,
this is what I call her. Rangoon. Wake. Rangoon. Kiss me. After
the storm we will build a new home. Isn't is romantic. What of
the rain?
My brother and his wife visited me this
afternoon. (more)
Sunday 14
Angels transcend every religion, every philosophy,
every creed.
In fact angels have no religion as we know it ...
their existence precedes every religious system
that has ever existed on earth.
~St. Thomas Aquinas
Saturday 13
Jacob's Ladder. Finally watched
Andy Goldsworthy's Rivers & Tides. Inspirational.
Fascinating. Entertaining.
Gray this morning. And light rain. Hoping
the rain turns to freezing rain and then snow. Woke early.
Showered and made coffee. Took today's 365 Days Self-Portrait. Words this morning; sudden and swift change comes in
the same way the sun illuminates the landscape in this photo,
and then darkness, and dreams, and vision, and change; it is a
new day and yesterday's hopes are waning and soon a flower,
floating as it might, in the stream, I will watch and I will
come back to this flower, in which God has put so much truth and
beauty, constant in its presence and fidelity, floating on the
water which gives birth to this day, not to disappear, but
appear and reappear, not to hold out, not to resist, but to
flow, full of invention, neither hidden nor visible, like Grace
which allows me to believe and whether the flower floats or
settles in a pool of standing water, it trembles, vibrates, and
not only is this beauty infinite, it starts again and again at
every moment, and this is when, dear friends, when the flower,
settled now in the pool of standing water, yet vibrating, gives
again and therefore it fades not away but blossoms, giving and
giving, again and again, ecstasy in this galaxy and soon,
someday, maybe tomorrow, the flower will be lifted from the
pool, carried on the current downstream into something always
what it was created to be.
Friday 12
Landscapes and Sunsets.
Blessed to see this:
Thursday 11
Walk with David. In an effort to
get in better shape (and out of our lofts), David and I have
made a commitment to take baby steps and go for walks twice a
week; a beginning begins somewhere.
The cross project began today:
The Lower Mill Pond; very late in afternoon:
Wednesday 10
Presenting. Sunrise. Sunset.
Today I am grateful for:
- An email from a stranger saying they love my
photography
- Someone saying thank you for making her
smile
- Spending time with Sue and Steve visiting
from Australia
|
Tuesday 09
Note: Study Chinese art.
Monday 08
Walking With Angela.
Sunday 07
In The Sunday Papers.
Not
all are called to be artists in the specific sense
of the term. Yet, as Genesis has it, all men and
women are entrusted with the task of crafting their
own life: in a certain sense, they are to make of it
a work of art, a masterpiece.
~John Paul II, Letter to Artists (1999) |
Saturday 06
The Greatest Adventure.
| "Don't think in terms of comfort; think in
terms of freedom. Don't think in terms of safety,
think in terms of being more alive. And the only way
to be more alive is to live dangerously, is to risk,
is to go on an adventure. And the greatest adventure
is not going to the moon - the greatest adventure is
going to your own innermost core."
~Osho |
A friend drew my
portrait:
Friday 05
Books/Zines. I have been reading a
book called "Paragraphs
on Printing" by Bruce Rogers, one of the best American book
designers of this century (Originally published in 1943.)
| "The ultimate test, in considering the
employment or rejection of an element of design or
decoration, would seem to be: does it look as if it
were inevitable, or would the page look as well or
better for its omission." |
Tonight then found me revisiting the four
issues of BirchLane and finding inspiration to both start a
series of new books/zines (Photographs of Mt Tom, for
example; Photographs of The Lower Mill Pond) and design
and finish Famous People Famous Places. This is then my
first alteration, or rule, for the new year:
In the workshop,
Balancing Life By The Rule,
Debra Farrington
shows us the difference between self-help and spiritual growth
in her article on creating a "rule" to guide everyday life,
based on Christian monastic rules. Contrasting a rule with a New
Year's resolution, she says that the latter is based on what we
think is wrong with us (too fat, too poor, too tired, etc) while
a spiritual rule grows from a desire to become more fully what
we were created to be.
For example:
|
Fifty Two Photographs of Mt. Tom
By Bruce Barone
|
Today I am grateful for:
- A note from a friend: "Your photographs are
more than stunning, they move my soul. Beautiful
writing, too. Your vision is expansive, yet
delicate as the inner whorl of the corolla of a
flower."
- Seeing my photos today in the new issue of
SuperModels
- Having a beer in the late afternoon with
Rob
and Jeff
- A phone call from my daughter
- New inspiration
|
Desiree Dolron
Thursday 04
Two Evenings. Tonight and last
night.
Wednesday 03
The Present Moment. What a difference a minute
makes. A moment. It is all there is. It is. The present moment.
This morning angels must have called to me and said "Look. See."
And I woke and I looked out the window and I saw:
waking
volcanic
lava
magma
later blue
one brush stroke
delicate precise
one swan flying
only I
see her
last night
the moon white |
Thinking of
Julie Hedrick.
Today I am grateful for:
- This morning's sunrise
- This evening's sunset
- Meeting (via the internet) a distant
relative
- Spending time reading the gifted
Deborah Brandon
|
Tuesday 02
Spiritual Progress.
Having taught the Vedas, the teacher says:
"Speak the truth. Do your duty. Neglect not
The scriptures. Give your best to your teacher.
Do not cut off the line of progeny. Swerve not
From the truth. Swerve not from the good.
Protect your spiritual progress always.
Give your best in learning and teaching.
Never fail in respect to the sages.
See the divine in your mother, father,
Teacher, and guest. Never do what is wrong.
Honor those who are worthy of honor.
Give with faith. Give with love. Give with joy.
If you are in doubt about the right conduct,
Follow the example of the sages,
Who know what is best for spiritual growth.
This is the instruction of the Vedas;
This is the secret; this is the message."
~Taittiriya Upanishad
Monday 01
New Year. Woke to rain. Heavy rain.
If not for the calendar on my desk and The New York Times on my
coffee table, today could be any day--but it is the first day of
a new year. And with today comes the urge to start a new
journal, to make resolutions; alterations. And yet I can't stop
thinking about William Blake this morning. Maybe it is the rain.
Maybe it is the choir of angels outside my window.
I am thinking of the word
Epiphany. Finding, seeing, and experiencing the richness in
the ordinary, the everyday. To become more childlike. William
Blake called this wow or illumination the Apocalyptic
moment. For Blake, the apocalyptic moment was personal and could
happen at any time evil is recognized. Revelation and Judgment
are internal affairs of the spirit, arising from a
clearing of the senses which the artist, by virtue of his
imaginative genius, can promote. The true artist then has a
social role bordering on the religious. Final Revelation will be
"seen by the Imaginative Eye of Every one according to
the Situation he holds" and the Last Judgment will happen
"whenever any Individual Rejects Error & Embraces Truth."
| Today I am wearing my father's Brooks Brothers
Lambs Wool sweater
that my brother gave to me on Christmas Day. I am
wearing my father's
Arrow Blue and White Pin Stripe shirt that my sister
gave to me a few days
after my father passed away while we wearing
cleaning out his closest. I am
wearing my father's light tan moccasins that he gave
me a few years ago.
Today
it is raining. This is the day the Lord has made.
Let us rejoice and be
glad in it. Outside people are clapping. It is a
good day. |
The German poet Goethe said:
| Nothing is worth more than this day. |
And today I think: Not just the first day of the hew year,
but every day. To see. To be astonished. To look intently at
what you do see. The present moment.