"Beware the Ides of March"

"Beware the Ides of March"—A warning from a soothsayer to Shakespeare's Julius Caesar on his impending death.

As we move closer toward the Ides (middle) of March it’s time to put a finger in the air to see which way the wind is blowing.

“Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but 

when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by." 

Christina Rossetti, 1872

Vessel #35—First Cause           Vessel # 59—Shift                      Yesnaby Cliffs, Orkney Islands, Scotland

In scientific terms wind is formed as hot air rises and cooler air moves in to fill the void. With the ability to pick up speed and form a vortex, wind is able to become a swirling tornado or a 
devastating hurricane*.

In political terms rhetoric rises as reason drifts and hot air fills the void—Red vs. Blue, Honesty vs. Deceit, Freedom vs. Order.

Where will the tempest shift next?

    Kaze no Iro

    the color of wind

     turns cobalt under the sea

      green fish kiss the sky

             

     From Unhinged, A Haiku Tsunami by Jeff Key

Vessel # 59—Shift                                                         Vessel # 35—First Cause 
Wood, 105" x 48" x 12"                                             Wood & Flax, 72" x 50" x 10"  

                                                                                                               
• The March 2019 tornado in Alabama reached wind speeds of 170 mph (EF-4 on the Tornado Scale) with a path 24 miles long. It killed 24 people.

• Typhoon Wutip, formed in February near Guam, became the first Category 5 storm ever recorded in the month of February in the Northern Hemisphere with winds reaching 180 mph.

*Tornados are wind masses that form over land, hurricanes form over oceans in the Atlantic and Northeast Pacific. The same oceanic wind mass is called a typhoon in the Northwest Pacific and a cyclone in the South Pacific and Indian Ocean.

It Must Have Been Love

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns,

or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. —A. Lincoln

If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love.  

                                                                             — Maya Angelou

February is the shortest month of the year—the month of love, commemorating Presidents, honoring Black History, tracking the groundhog (Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow—so look for an early spring.....and celebrating some of the most overlooked days of the year—

• Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk Day (11th)  • Get a Different Name Day (13th)

• Do a Grouch a Favor Day (16th)   • Random Acts of Kindness Day (17th)

          .........and of course— • Be Humble Day (22nd)

It Must Have Been Love

He heard it when he climbed a tree—

sliding down the branches, hugging the leaves,

tumbling to the ground in silence.

She tasted it when she bit into an apple—

juice dripping down her chin,

ripe with the sweetness of yesterday.

He saw it when he turned the corner—

running down the street,

a breath out of focus.

She smelled it when the wind whipped through her hair—

the salty ocean spray

flipping like a seal through her curls.

They reached out to touch it—
cunning and illusive—but caught in the act.
It must have been love.

Vessel #64—Once         Wood,   55" x 69" x 46"

Vessel #64—Once (Detail View)

Bird Songs (for the New Year)

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.  —E.E.Cummings

It’s a new year…….the fires have abated, the hurricanes have been left to gestate in the oceans, the rain has finally arrived, the air has cleared, and the song of birds can be heard once again.

Bird Songs

They sing about their lives on the water. Warbling, chirping, and chatter float through the canyons and trees, waking up the morning.

As the old Gospel song proclaims, hope can be found by keeping your eye on the sparrow,

that small bird that gains strength from the flock as it belts out tunes of joy and freedom.

But what about the winter when breath stands still and frost fills the air—do they grow more feathers—do their feet freeze—are their nests caked in ice—do their songs retreat into the darkness waiting for the Earth to tilt closer to the sun?

The answer might lie in the origin of song—simple sounds for gossip, courtship, and danger,

bringing order to random cacophony, harmony to the orchestration of nature.

Charlie Parker, Jerry Garcia, and Mahalia Jackson conjured birds in their music, bringing notes to the scattered sounds of rapture and relief—

flight captured on keys, beaks bopping the bass. They joined the birds on the branches to record the passing winter, and the birth of better days.

Bird Song Notes: 

“Bird Song” by Jerry Garcia (for Janis Joplin)

Charlie Parker “Bird” 

(melodic lines like birdsong)

Mahalia Jackson “His Eye on the Sparrow” (Special Grammy Award 2010)

Timbre—The Color of Sound

Timbre—the distinguishable characteristics of a tone that make one sound different from another even if they have the same pitch and intensity.

 As the days become shorter and slide into winter
we become aware of a new palette of sounds
and take time to slow down and listen.

Vessel #54—Timbre                                      The Rollright Stones, Warwickshire, England

Winter solitude—in a world of one color—the sound of wind

                                                                        —Matsuo Basho, 1691 

  

Sonata (for Apples in C# Minor)

“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with them. The people who give you their food—give you their heart.”    —Cesar Chavez, Co-founder United Farm Workers Union

“This isn’t just about cooking and eating. It’s about culture and politics. If people everywhere could just understand one another a little bit better, sit down over a meal together, you could solve a lot of problems.”         —Ben Rhodes, Former Deputy National Security Advisor to Barak Obama

In a couple of weeks we will be sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner. As kids we attended these gatherings with an air of anticipation and dread. There was the plump shiny turkey to be devoured along with more food than we could comprehend, but there was also “Uncle Billie” with his inappropriate jokes, crazy worldview, and unbearable aftershave.

But we were “breaking bread”—sitting down with friends, relatives, and sometimes unexpected quests who came from diverse backgrounds and held thoughts and opinions that we found untenable. Our task was to listen without passing judgment—sometimes harder to do than walk on hot coals.

So Happy Thanksgiving—share those yams and drumsticks, practice tolerance with Uncle Billie, and give some time to those less fortunate…As J.R.R. Tolkien said, “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”