OMG: A Black Santa Claus Masquerading as a Horse

Let's see now, Sint Nikolas came from somewhere in the Mediterranean, and then Krampas, and then Father Christmas, and Black Piet that comes with Sint Nikolaas
And Jesus was white, right? Even though Jews in the middle east were more a nice brownish shade...fantasies, fantasies,
fantasies.

Temporary Frozen Inpermanence

     My metaphorical imagination can travel simultaneously through galaxies, recognize h2o crystals, and see the marvelous lines that I believe are what the Tao would refer to as the "Flow", that line that suggests the meeting point of all the forces at play in that spot at that moment...
     Wouldn't the universe be boring if there were permanence instead of constant change?  It's hard to accept, but the absence of flowers in winter, helps us appreciate them in spring; the absence of abundant sunlight leads to frozen lines of force and beauty not usually seen.
     We must see death, too, as impermanent, for it is no more than a state of dormancy, a dramatic shift of energy to other matter, and we must accept, even welcome this change, as any other, if we are to live fully in the moment without fear, without a sense of failure that we haven't completed all we desired, to recognize we are the product of our own inner forces, looking to reach stability and find those beautiful etched lines of harmony seen above.

I write these words while very conscious of a remarkable soul, Nelson Mandela, who comes as close to the Bhuddist enlightened man setting forth to enlighten others, in everything he did.  He had the courage to be himself, no matter what the consequences.  And there is, even in me, the skeptic of all matters socio-political, that we have, in Nelson Mandela, a model we can turn to in times of ethnic stress if we wish to live without violent turmoil around us.
     

Cultivating Gratitude

Being in a state of gratitude, Say the gurus leads to a mental peace, even bliss.

Pulling the veils off commonality to feel the aha light of warmth that comes with thankful memories of a moment when my father reached out to show me beauty and a miracle of even a broken mussel shell was handed to me, then, long ago on a beach near Amsterdam.

Perhaps, that day, the gift of recognizing beauty was given me, and I am so thankful to creation that I was chosen to follow beauty as a mission, and to share it with those who doubt that whether God, or not, our lives are each a miracle, and while I'm sure chance had a major role, there's something else driving the universe, and when I am in awe of creation, and simultaneously thankful with all my soul for the opportunity to be here today, here, now and fully aware.  Then, gratitude is a sort of bliss, and I search for as many things I took for granted to recognize, as I can.

Wabi Sabi or the art of Decay

      Ah, the forlorn sight of history ignored, wasted, decomposed, and expressed in warped geometric shadows...why do I find this beautiful?  Perhaps because it says more clearly than any words what the ultimate fate of all things will be...decay, and ultimately disappearance...

     Some inner voice, the preserver, wants to shout..."Save this! It's important to the story of that part of Washington State centered on Chelan and Douglas Counties.  The vast open spaces around Waterville and the immense winters long kept these people isolated until machinery capable of keeping roads open in blizzards and snowdrifts from wind.

     Nonetheless, standing before this house brings imagery of a very hardworking isolated family whose neighbors were miles away, and who needed to be prepared for harsh winters.   Perhaps, as a European born child after WWII in Amsterdam with memories of recent war torn buildings I am unconsciously also drawn to my early childhood, as I see the comings and goings of decades and centuries of buildings, people, artifacts, and the lack of interest we show in even the previous few decades, like JFK's assasination almost as antique in the mind of youth as Abraham Lincoln's.

    Words like abondonment, neglect, waste, and a sense of sadness that we have come to this, that families no longer have an option to live 'off' the land to supply their needs unless they can carry a huge mortgage.

Knots in Weathered Siding

     Wood knots share their name with knots in rope for good reasons. Knots are not easy to untie, and wood knots particularly tend to be that portion of the wood with greatest density around which the rest of the wood has to migrate.
It is dehydrated artery and vein of the tree seen in cross section.
Weathered wood from abandoned houses provide inspiration, and reflection on our history and our past, but they also conjure up the analogies of knots in our souls, knots in our relationships, knots tied too loosely, and knots tied too tightly.
As with the tree, our knot should not only be a tie, but also a confluence of nutrients, a path to flowing saps that will determine it strength, continued growth, and contain a template of past years.

     

Because this knot was taken from the siding of an old house near Waterville  off Highway 2, that had long been abandoned, and the house in total disrepair, I couldn't help but think of history, and why we cannot see that our history, what our ancestors, both Native American and European invaders who lived here, had to endure ( before cell phones (-: )and the lifestyles necessary for their survival, 

And yet a knot still exists, larger and more complex than ever, but it is there, part of an even greater knot, or web as knots are hard to untie.  

Likewise the knots in our mind, those harder transfer points of mind, soul, and body.  Here, knots can cause problems, they need to be carefully monitored as not too tight, or too lose.

Families must work with these knot networks to make sure the flow is even, not crusted, and lubricated from time to time, as oil, on a wood knot will help preserve it as well.

Contemposcribe

The closer you look, the more fascinating it gets...

      Another dormancy has arrived...a few hours of precious daylight, sometimes even the sun.  Knowing the landscape, I've learned these early winter days leave fascinating advances and retreats of water vs. ice, and that the frozen fluid shapes reveal a lot about every moment each frozen layer encountered, much like we're learning about our world through tree rings.
Then I sat down, and looked at one bubble frozen temporarily in time, and saw the complex web of tubules and fractures, curves and micro-infrastructure was involved even in the 3 inch bubble, frozen.
Of course I had to do a lot of manipulating the original to reveal this complexity, but that we can illustrate using what we see, although enhanced, is itself a miracle.

It starts with watching the pan too close.  The fluorescent lights up above the stove reflect the surface tension in clear white lines, and the shapes are reminiscent of the primal coming together of the chaos of the universe.

Then, the software for using a digital image as if in a darkroom with a negative and, as Ansel Adams said, "using the negative as a conductor would use the score for directing the symphony."

                                                         As a fractal enthusiast, and admirer of chaos theory and the Mandelbrot set, I couldn't help but jump into some of the vortexes created by even the smallest amount of dry matter sticking above the surface of the soup.  These patterns, which are recognized in other cultures, too, as 'Ur-patroon" by Feininger, or Li by Chinese artists...the repetitive but always changing shapes  morphing, yet following some constants that create patterns on several dimensions simultaneously.  I'm no mathematician, nor scientist, nor physicist, but the underlying harmonies, beauty, and shapes found in the art of our ancestors because they do follow the forces of the Tao, these visual clues that this miracle we call our universe is so magnificent in every detail.                                                        

The patience and openness to experience new paradigms, new perceptions of reality, new entrances to other explanations, is what drives my photography, my image making, and sometimes, even art.

 Abstractions Help Remove Biases

     Looking along the road when the last evening sunlight shines through some golden grass and a knapweed with junky but still quite circular backgrounds, it helps to overcome the inner bias that trash along the road and unrecycled trash should not be lying like an eyesore along the road...this road being North Dryden Rd in Chelan County, and the collected detritus of the "King Ranch" which lies there predictably every year all seasons for photo studies of rural decay and wabi sabi...I'll probably miss it all when someone finally orders the country to remove it because of the toxic waste leaking down the bank into the river below.

Morphic Resonance or Waves or Vibrations or Ripples or Reflections

     Perhaps my first 'aha' awareness moment in life came when I saw the rings from a penny I'd thrown in the water...
My mind melted with the reflecting lines of the buildings of Amsterdam spiraling out with ever wider wavelets and my why? light went off.
     Now, in a time when we speak of curved time and space, quantum reality of chance, molecular and microbiotic universes the question, "Which is real, the reflection or the reflectee?" it becomes necessary, as usual, to have to say "Both"
     I suppose it all sounds  kind of New-Agey, but there does seem to be an analogical relevance to ideas of vibes and harmony, flow, and meditation to arrive at new paradigms of our existence, how it is interacting with all of its parts, and how the slightest act will have lasting consequences once the interacting vibrations and their ripple effect are fully understood.

The Threshold of Winter

Frost on the puddle, even in the afternoon, yet still one yellow Cottonwood Leaf against an otherwise stark black and white background enriched by a multitude of etched webbed crossing lines from several dimensions, both reflected and real.

It is here that my brain analogizes reality into the patterns I see in life, the contrasts we are brought up with, the irreconcilable blacks and whites, not willing to grey.

This Poem Came to Mind as I Posted This on My Flickr Site

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pictoscribe/10683218215/

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The Threshold of Winter's Hold

The Threshold of Winter's Hold

Papa taught me about Black and White,

and Color or No Color,

Then Warm versus Cold

And soon Right and Wrong?

Depending on whose point of view,

Realistic - Unrealistic.

Bad or Good?

And often it would come down to"We'll see!"

Bare branches, Fallen leaves,

Darker nights, Shorter days.

First frost.

Crystals shake hands with fluid molecules ...

 the dance 

of 

hydrogen and oxygen.

Staring down, at the basics,

The lines etched in fluid,

Ever changing states of being,

Amazing grace,

Seen from the right angle,

Open to each moment,

Like a final gasp.

                               

Looking into the universe of a cup of coffee.

Observation

     Looking into a cup of coffee after installing the new ultra-light daylight lamps in four bars, and suddenly I see the surface tension of the round cup and the liquid, the floating particles of powdered milk and my eyes are drawn into memories of recent science theories of infinite numbers of universes, and warped space, vortexes, black holes, and just looking at my coffee cup, I suddenly understand it all.  (-:

Trick or Treat ???? Why Bother

       This is of many snapshots taken of the delightfully outfitted trick or treaters at my house each year. Most are glad I'm impressed enough with their costumes to care to take a picture.  When parents are there, I immediately ask for permission, if not, I ask the kids.  If they say no, I respect that, but since it is my front porch on my property with someone knocking on my door, I do believe I have the right to record the moment.
      One parent, who apparently did not accompany their children complained to the police, and the next day I had 2 sheriff deputies on my door asking if I had taken pictures of children, and why?  I was astonished but responded that I put them on my flickr site to share with my contacts, as others would on facebook, and that I have a cousin in the Netherlands who was here once for Halloween and enjoyed it.  I was told that I had to have the parent's permission first, and that I had to put up a sign that said, "You may be photographed"

     Suddenly Halloween Lost its Charm.  The following is my sincere letter to the person who caused my loss of enthusiasm for preparing for Halloween. May a witch haunt your door this evening.

Letter to Parents of Child who called cops because I took picture of their kid in Halloween costume.

Dear folks,

        I'm sorry if I violated your expectations of what happens when kids go trick or treating without their parents, and that folks might actually like your kids costume well enough to want a snapshot.
May I ask, if this offended you why you didn't come to my door to discuss the matter with me.  If things like this concern you, might it not be better if you went trick or treating with your kids.
And finally, if this bothered you, why didn't you have the neighborly courtesy and decency to discuss the matter directly rather than attempt to make a criminal action out of a traditional neighborly celebration.
        You've caused me to seriously reconsider taking part in Halloween at all, even when my own childhood was full of memories of getting to know neighbors and celebrating evenings with other kids.
        Now your actions have caused me to associate what was a fun childhood memory to the realization that at every step America has become more and more an authoritarian state with common courtesy skipped so that we can't be held accountable for our thoughts and feelings.
       I am now conflicted....why bother to celebrate what was fun, when the mere snapshot of the creative kids asking for candy and tricking me if I don't give it...should have the moment captured so others can share the tradition of a fun-filled holiday centered on childhood, mischief, and fun.
     `Given your paranoia about who might answer the door, may I recommend you keep your kids at home this year, for regardless of their costumes, I would rather not see them, if I can't share the memory.

Apologies will be accepted.

Let me dive into my own universe....

         The more I hear and read about the current cosmological models of multiple universes, curved space, quantum leaps and waves and particles, I can't help but see all of those possibilities in a small stream with moving water, light, and the tools for stopping time for a mini-second view to realize how another second would entirely change the mini-universe in the photo.

     The surface world of water, is simultaneously a reflected distorted world above, and those distortions tell us volumes about the world below the surface, it's tension, flow, depths, speed, calmness, and what is being reflected...sky, clouds; in short, visually we have entered another microcosmic entrance to a world very different from the one we must live in, one of air, and three dimensional objects.

Piercing My Paradigm

Deep in Microspace

Bursting Forth

Looking up in a deep forest.

     The chill and dusk of winter has inspired me to dig out my Extreme Fractal Program and spend some weeks zooming in and out through mathematical algorithmic iterations for which we can thank Mandelbrot and Julia, and these are tied to computer programs that allow me to cruise through hypothetical universes at many scales and with an awesome complexity of colors and textures.

     Just after listening to Carl Sagan and Steven Hawkins describe multiple universes with multiple scales and dimensions, perhaps even laws of physics, I find my Mid-Twentieth Century academic mind was not prepared for this.     

     Only in 1980 when Benoit Mandelbrot put his fractal algorhythm to an IBM test, did we learn that there is order in chaos...that when we see chaos, it is because we haven't found the pattern; we're not looking at the right "ZOOM"   This expansion of my imagination allows a paradigm that says...

"Don't see order?; 

Then change your perspective!"

     For me, Mandelbrot set in motion a liberating chain of thoughts, for if the same fractal geometry that creates a spiraling spring fern has similar properties when seen as far away as a galaxy, then we can no longer deny a certain unity  between human ability to understand how nature programs creation...emergence as we now call it.

     Were all that not enough, the power of color to influence what we think we see is overwhelming is shown by the three images above, which are essentially from the same zoom, but have three different set of instructions for color and background.  It reassures my spirit to know that even in the infinite zooms of my cells, emergence of potential awareness exists.