Too Special to Use

You received it as a gift--right?  And it's so beautiful and special that you want to keep it that way.  Or--you bought it on a whim and are saving it for a special occasion.  

And there it sits--on a shelf in your closet or in your desk drawer.


That is the story of this pen that was still tucked away, unused, in my mother's kitchen drawer many years after she died.

I had bought it for her sometime in the 1970s, when a $25 Cross pen was, for me at the time, a fairly hefty expense.  Of course, Mother appreciated it, recognizing it as something special.  So she labeled it and set it aside to keep it nice and new, using "ordinary pens" for her letters and grocery lists.


Recently, I came to recognize a similar behavior in myself.  When sending packs of photo prints to friends, I wanted to include just a short note.  My desk drawer seemed to offer the choice of a folded notecard (a bit too formal) or a piece of paper from one of those notepads that always come in donation requests (a bit too impersonal).  Looking further underneath, though, I noticed a set of post cards that I had bought years ago, just because I liked the whimsical artwork.  But, since when do I send postcards?  

What if, at the time when I'm no longer on this earth, these were still sitting in my desk, waiting for somebody to clean up?  Would I then be lucky enough for that somebody to appreciate the humor that I saw in them?  Or, more likely--would he/she say, "These are weird!  Why in the world did she keep them?" before tossing them out.

So, I wrote my note on these postcards and sent them along with the photos.  Would the recipients appreciate them?  I have no idea, but at least I gave them the chance.  That's two of them used!  Only a half-dozen to go.  Now, if you someday get a note from me, written on a postcard published in Germany, you'll understand why.

Here's one of them--from a set called "Birds in Shoes," published by Inkognito. In case you appreciate the whimsy and the colorful artwork and want to follow up, you can find them and other such humor by clicking on their website here.  This link will show you another "bird in shoes."  Click on the online picture to enlarge it.  

If, on that website, you go to the list on the left and click on the topmost subject "Postkarten" (postcards), you will see that the world is indeed a small place.  In the first postcard, the German man at his computer has a hard drive that crashed, and he is calling NSA for a backup from March through July!  The last card on that page, titled "Oh, Oh, Oh,"  needs no translation.

Even if you don't know any German, you can have fun exploring some of their hundreds of cards.


And now -- I'm going to go through a lot more of my stuff to see what I can put to use rather than let it gather dust until somebody else throws it away!

Blessings of a Summer Cold -- R.S.V.P.

All right!!  Due to unusual circumstances, I was going to have a long weekend with few demands on my time.  Finally, I would have several days to go through my home office, clearing out and reorganizing!  

Then right in the middle of the weekend I was hit with a vicious cold that left me feeling worn out, droopy--absolutely no energy.  "I'm not supposed to catch a cold in summer!"  Now this was really putting a kink in my plans.



So, Plan B--Take it easy, take the day off, then I'll feel better for tomorrow.  "At least I can read," thought I.  Then another glitch--one side effect of the cold was the feeling of gravel under my contact lenses.  Reading would be very uncomfortable for awhile.

Plan B, Part 2--Sit back and listen to music with no distractions.  That would be a luxury, since music is usually a background while I am doing something else--reading, housework, driving. 

I picked out a CD (yes, I'm old-fashioned that way) that I'd had for awhile, one from a vocal group that I love.  I had never learned to fully appreciate this particular CD, though, because I had played it only through speakers, either in the car or while working at the computer.  I put on my headphones, since I have learned from experience that the sound is much better that way, thinking that I might pick up some beauty that I had missed previously on this CD.

And did I ever!  This music totally wrapped itself around my mind, immersing me in a cloud of gorgeous sound.  What was it?  The name of the album is "Fine."  The group goes by the name of RSVP (Reconciliation Singers Voices of Peace).  This is a choir of 16 singers from the greater Sacramento area, all of whom are trained musicians with excellent voices.  They donate their time and talent so that the proceeds of their concerts go to local charitable organizations. 

With my undivided attention I was able to focus on the words and the gorgeous interplay of all the voices.
  
 

The first song, "Heavenly Crystal," lived up to its name with the crystalline sparkle of sopranos over the lower voices reminiscent of a flowing brook, as lovers sing their dream of an idyllic future together.  
                                
                                       * * * * * 



 How well I could identify with the lyrics of the title song, "Fine"!  

            Tryin' to walk my troubles away,
            My thoughts are heavy at the end of the day,
            O this weary heart of mine,
            If I start singin' then I know I'll be fine.
            .......
            If I awake and I'm still alive,
            I've got my problems but I'm gonna survive.
            I take a breath and open my eyes
            Then I start singin' and I'm gonna be fine.
                              
                                       * * * * *


And I just have to smile while listening to the bouncing, joyful notes as the singer remembers a childhood of knowing only love in the care of a grandmother who kept any negative self-images far removed from her home.

           There were no mirrors in my Nana's house,
           And the beauty that I saw in ev-er-y-thing
           Was in her eyes, was in her eyes ....



If you appreciate good choral music, you will want to visit the RSVP website and hear a sample of their wonderful sound.  In addition to "Fine" they have two other albums, "The Road Home" and a Christmas album, "Heavenly Peace."  Go to their Store link, and you can buy any one of them for the best ten-dollar bargain you'll ever get.


And in the spirit of R.S.V.P., please write back with your own suggestion for some favorite music.  If you can't figure out how to leave a Comment, no problem.  Just email me at the address from which I sent you the notice of this blog.  It would be fun to hear from a number of you, and I'll put together a whole list of your suggestions on a future blog entry.

What a wonderful, unexpected outcome of that unwelcome summer cold!  From now on I promise myself to do this more often--sit back, close my eyes, and just listen!

Mary Austin -- Part 1: Seeking Herself

Mary Austin knew what it was like to be an outsider.  Born in 1868, in Carlinville, Illinois, the second of four children of George and Susanna Hunter, Mary spent her childhood trying to figure out how to fit into a world of rules and restrictions that she could not understand.

For example, Mary, at about age four, heard about an incident in which her older brother fell out of a wagon and came home covered with mud.  But, when she related this happening, she was scolded by her mother for making up a story, i.e., telling it as though she had seen it when she had not.  Mary couldn't understand the distinction because, in her very active little mind she could clearly see, and react emotionally to, the entire scene.  What was the difference between seeing an event with your eyes or living it in your head after you heard about it?  

By the time she started first grade at age five, Mary had already learned basic reading from listening to her brother and from possessing a native talent for absorbing sounds from the printed  words.  The teacher, however, insisted that Mary could not possibly read because it had not been taught her yet, that she was making up a story. (There was that "story" problem again!).  Mary, subject to the snickers of her classmates, couldn't understand what the teacher meant by telling her that she could not read when that's exactly what she was doing.

In her autobiography (Earth Horizon,1932), Mary remembered her father (who died when she was nine) as someone who appreciated his lively and intelligent daughter.  Not so her mother, who Mary recalled as a parent trying her best to do her religious duty toward a daughter whom she regarded with distaste because Mary didn't conform to her expectations of reticence and respectability.  The only one of her siblings that she truly loved and who loved her in return was her younger sister Jennie, who died in childhood of diphtheria just after Mary recovered from it.  Although later in her life she had forgotten the faces of other family members, she wrote of Jennie, "She was the only one who ever unselflessly loved me.  She is the only one who stays."

From childhood Mary had known two things about herself: (1) she would be a writer and (2) nothing made her happier than her interest in nature.  However, when she enrolled at Carlinville's Blackburn College, she chose science rather than English, explaining, "English I can study by myself; for science I have to have laboratories and a teacher."  By the time of Mary's graduation at age twenty, her mother had decided that the Hunter family would follow the older brother, who had moved to California with a dream of farming in the dry eastern San Fernando Valley.  Susanna never gave any support to Mary's dream of becoming a writer.

The farming venture was a dismal failure, but Mary found work as a teacher while immersing herself in the study of the desert land and the people and animals living there.  Perhaps as a way to become independent of her family she married Wallace Austin, who turned out to be no more successful financially than was her brother.  The Austins moved to the Owens Valley, a remote area of California north of Death Valley, where Mary gave birth to a severely handicapped daughter, who was rejected by both Mary's husband and mother.  Leaving her unhelpful husband, she supported herself by teaching in small towns.  During that time she taught herself about the plants and geology of the area and listened to stories told by the local Indians and the Mexican sheepherders.   Putting all this together in her own captivating style, she wrote the stories which have earned her the distinction of being one of the most important writers of California history.

[In the next installment, I will delve into Mary Austin's writing and the people she met later in her life].

 

Jo Myers-Walker, artist

She was about ten years old when she discovered what life was all about for her.  She would be an artist!

Jo's mother had given her the freedom to paint her own bedroom.  And did she ever paint!  Feeling the need for beauty all around her, she filled the walls with trees, flowers, and vines.  From that childhood moment, she and her parents realized that she had a special gift, that this was what her life had to be.

After graduating from Iowa State University, Jo began teaching in Iowa colleges and exhibiting her art wherever she could.  That didn't bring much income, but what was important to her was the joy in living that she was able to portray through her art.  

She was commissioned by her parish, St. Thomas Aquinas Student Center at Iowa State University, to create a Story Wall of stories from the Bible.  With no clear idea of what she would do, she started molding clay until she recognized life taking shape within her fingers.  She filled the 30- by 16-foot wall with figures such as Jesus washing the feet of his apostles, the prodigal son, Jesus with the children--and more.  See the story wall -- here 

At one point she took a leap of faith and purchased a 110-year-old bank in Gilbert, Iowa.  A bank vault became her office.  The teller's drawers held kitchen supplies.  She cleaned and polished everything, and covered the walls with brightly colored murals.  In remembrance of an earlier trip to France, she christened it "The Left Bank Studio."

As you can imagine, that studio bears little resemblance to the somber bank it once was.  A constant stream of students comes through to take classes, absorbing from Jo her belief that art is a personal expression of one's spirituality--viewpoint, beliefs, joys, fears, and sorrows.  A favorite theme of hers is "negative space."  When people say that they can't paint, don't know what to paint, she tells them to look at something (a chair, a building, a person) and, instead of trying to paint that object, look at what is behind it, around it.  Let your mind see what shapes might be hiding there.  Once a student accepts this idea and tries to use his imagination, it is a very freeing process.

Jo developed her present mission of ministering through art to the terminally ill and their families when her mother had a stroke, followed by a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.  She found that her mother experienced some peace and joy through this means of self-expression.  The hospice team asked her to help other patients, and it all blossomed.  Families started coming to her studio, where they find some relief from stress through the brightly colored artwork, as well as from Jo's natural talent as a listener and nurturer.

If you find her story interesting, Jo has a blog which tells, and shows, so much more about her and her work.  I got most of this information originally from a story written by Sue Stanton in the Catholic magazine, St. Anthony Messenger this past July.  Jo's blog updates a couple of important developments since then: 
1) She is selling the Left Bank Studio as a means of simplifying her life; 
2) The Story Wall suffered smoke damage in a recent fire, and will require an  extensive and sensitive cleaning process.

You can find Jo's blog here .  Be sure to check out the "Online Gallery" to get a real feel for her artistic work.  And you will want to look at the "Tomato Bisque Soup Club" to get a feel for the person she is.  I don't know about you, but it definitely looks like a place where I would like to spend some time!

Tiny Bug with a Big Shadow

Awake in the middle of the night.  Trying to recapture sleep by reading from a book in hopes of calming my middle-of-the-night what-ifs, the thoughts that hardly make a blip during the day but that suddenly loom huge and important at two a.m.

I notice two paired specks skittering around the page.  The bigger one is actually a hazy shadow, thrown by my booklight as it illuminates the meanderings of a bug so tiny that only a magnifying glass would reveal its features.  The bug itself is smaller than the "i" in the print of the word "porcupine." 

I'm reading an essay by Pam Houston, "Looking for Abbey's Lion."  She's talking about her wilderness experiences, about how the call of imagination can override reality.  I can relate to that.

The bug moves.  I can't say it crawls, since it is so tiny that I see no legs--just an eighth-inch dark line dragging a fuzzy shadow two or three times its size.   Up and down the page it goes, heedlessly highlighting a hodgepodge of words--"pine trees," "complicated," "timberwolf," "stumbled," "ptarmigan."  Not a very organized reader!

Suddenly it jumps? flies?  It has no visible means of disappearance, but it's gone.  Whoops, now it's back on the facing page.  How did it get there?  But wherever it goes, it brings its shadow for company.  Is it looking for something to eat?  I can't imagine what it can find between the pages of a book that are opened only for a brief period at night.  But, then, I guess a bug that tiny can make dinner on some very small specks.

Now, I could go on and try to find something profound in all this, try to squeeze out a meaningful lesson from a little bug with a big shadow.  Or I could just relax and enjoy the experience.  I think I'll do that.

But I do appreciate the essay, so I resolve to look up Pam Houston.  
And here she is! 

What do you know?!  I find that she is a local gal--for at least part of each year.  She is the director of the creative writing program at UC Davis (right next door here to Sacramento), flying back and forth between Davis, her home in Colorado, and a full schedule of worldwide adventuring.

To top it all off, I see that our local paper, The Sacramento Bee, ran an interview with her less than a year ago.  I'm sure that I read it, but somehow it didn't stick with me.  Darn!  I don't remember everything I read!  Does that ever happen to you?

Just in case you are a nature lover who likes to follow up on any interesting leads, the book containing Houston's story is Sisters of the Earth, 2nd edition, published April, 1991.






You can even find the essay, "Looking for Abbey's Lion," if you click here.
Scroll down to the third section in the list of contents and you'll find it under the heading, "Her Wildness."  "Abbey" is Edward Abbey of Monkey Wrench Gang fame.  So, if you are a lover of the outdoors, of the wild things within us and around us, you will love this little gem.  

As for me, I don't know that I would trade my little bug for Abbey's lion.  A real live bug on a page at the right time might be worth even more than a mountain lion in the wild.  And, for sure, I've lived to tell about it.

"Polar Wives" Can Be Yours

This is the book I mentioned in my blog,
"How Far to the South Pole?"

I would like to give it away to one of my readers--to thank you for reading my wild assortment of posts.

 All you have to do is email me (mgieszel@surewest.net) with the 
answer to my question:
"Why am I especially interested in the recent news about the ship, Terra Nova?"

Anyone who responds correctly will have your name put in a hat (or maybe a paper bag).  Get your response to me by at least Friday.  On Saturday morning I will have a non-interested party (my husband?) pull out one name, and I'll send you the book through the mail.  Please include your postal address in case Saturday is your lucky day!

The Revolution is Coming!

This one is for music lovers--which, hopefully, includes a great many of you.

There's a new kid in town, called the Classical Revolution.  It's all about bringing classical music to the masses, making it accessible to ordinary people, mostly free, and in everyday settings--meaning outside of concert halls.

 This grassroots movement started in San Francisco in 2006 and has spread to more than thirty chapters across the nation.  According to one chapter's home website, "Classical Revolution seeks to build community by bringing classical music to nontraditional venues such as bars and coffee shops."

 This past Friday, Aug. 17, I was fortunate to be able to attend one of their local concerts.  True to the organization's manifesto, it was held in a very simple venue, Shady Coffee & Tea, on Douglas Boulevard here in Roseville.  Everything was very informal--their dress, the dimly lit covered patio, the tables pushed aside and chairs placed in rows. 

Jennifer Reason - digital piano

Justine Hamlin - clarinet

 

But the music was wonderful!  Such talent!  Such joyous enthusiasm for the beautiful sounds they could produce from their instruments!  There were five musicians in all.  One played the digital piano--first with a solo piece, then as accompanist to the others in turn.  There was no program, so I don't know the composers and their works, but the music was more contemporary than Beethoven, Mozart, etc.  Some of it was very unusual, truly beautiful and energetic.

I took a few pictures, but you'll have to excuse the poor quality of the photos.  As I said, it was dimly lit, and I didn't want to use flash.  And all were so caught up in the performance that they moved constantly in their enthusiasm for the music.

Jai-Mo Chen - cello

Cathie Apple - flute and Liz Bardon - French horn

The next Classical Revolution Sacramento will be held this Thursday, Aug. 23, at 8:00, at Bows & Arrows, 1815 19th St.  You will be in for a very special treat if you can possibly make it.  You can find Classical Revolution Sacramento on Facebook.

Of course, some of you don't live anywhere near Sacramento or San Francisco (what a pity!), but you can see if there is a chapter near you.  If not now, keep on checking back, as there are new ones forming all the time. 

How Far to the South Pole?

That's not a question I normally think about.  It just came to me the other day when I saw this 24-hour photo of star trails taken directly overhead from the South Pole.  Thinking about it sort of blew my mind.  I experience that phenomenon rather frequently, hence my reason for naming this blog "Mind Wide Open."

With Sacramento at latitude 38.52° north and the South Pole at 90° south, these two earth locations are approximately 128.5 degrees apart.  Since a degree of latitude is roughly 69.2 miles, the South Pole is almost 9000 miles away from where I live.

But, of course, there is 9000 miles and there is 9000 miles!  You know what I mean.  It all depends upon where you are going and how difficult it is to get there.   Sacramento to Los Angeles is slightly under 400 miles, a very long day's drive in a car.  On a plane you can fly down in the morning, attend a business meeting, and fly home in time for a late dinner.

The 1700-1800 miles between Kansas City and Sacramento can be covered by several days of intense driving or by a few hours in a plane.  How can we even compare this to the life-changing, and for many, life-ending, journey it took for the pioneer families to come in their covered wagons?

I just finished reading Polar Wives, a recent book by Kari Herbert.  She writes about the early attempts to explore the unknown world of the north and south poles, basically in the decades on either side of 1900.  Her viewpoint, though, centers on the wives.  Yes, they spent years left behind wondering and worrying, usually with no reliable communication.  But, in many instances, they were enthusiastic partners, integral to the whole work of procuring funds to outfit the expeditions, and sometimes persuading governments to rescue their stranded husbands and crew.

How far was the South Pole for those early European explorers?  It was years away.  After years spent obtaining funds, the ocean voyage was the least time-consuming part of their quest.  But the hard, often impossible, task was the overland trek with sleds, skis, dogs, ponies--and a way to provide the food needed for many months.  

The early 1900s saw a huge challenge in trying to be the first to reach the geographical South Pole, even though there would be nothing there, of course, but more snow.  Robert Scott had spent years preparing, and by 1910 he was ready, sure that he would win the honor for England.  Almost at the last minute, Norwegian Roald Amundsen decided that he, too, would undertake the quest to reach the South Pole from a different starting point on the Antarctic continent.  Things didn't go well for Scott along the way, but, with four chosen men, he finally reached the coveted spot on Jan. 17, 1912, only to find that Amundsen had planted the Norwegian flag there five weeks previously.  We have all heard the tragedy--that, on the attempted return to base camp, all five members of that final expedition died of exhaustion and starvation.  They were only eleven miles from a food cache, but the extreme weather kept them from reaching it.

How far away is the South Pole now?  Not nearly as far as it used to be.  In 1956 the United States built the Amundsen-Scott Station for scientific research, and it has been continually occupied ever since.

And, yes, you can go there! Here is some information on how to travel to the South Pole.
Modern flight makes it possible for almost anyone--of any age--to have this experience.  All that is necessary is that you can climb the few steps into and out of the airplane and can walk on some uneven ice.  Be a polar explorer!  Oh yes, you will also have to fit it into your budget--about $45,000.  Put it on your bucket list!  The South Pole isn't so far away, after all!

Mendocino Botanical Gardens

Over the 4th of July we took a trip with some of our friends to an RV park near Ft. Bragg, on the coast.  We have made this trip before, and each time one of the highlights for me is meandering through the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens.

I will include here just a few of the photos that I took there recently.  It is an ideal climate for lush gardens of beautiful flowers.

 
I happened to catch this flower just at the right moment, when a ray of sunlight was illuminating its center.  It looks like it's glowing from the inside.

At first I thought it must be some exotic species, but it's common enough.  This is a variety of Hypericum (St. John's Wort).  It was growing along the path in a damp area called Fern Trail.

This is one of my favorites, a fuchsia variety.  They grow profusely over there
--in many colors--in that cool, damp climate.









And here's an "artsy" photo--my tripod lying beside
some dandelions along the trail.

Follow Up - Temple Grandin

After my last post my sister-in-law Marie Gieszelmann pointed out that the July-August issue of Smithsonian has a one-page article written by Temple Grandin.  Those of you who subscribe to this magazine will want to check it out on page 10.

Grandin makes some interesting observations about the different types of thinking styles.  She herself thinks in pictures, not in words.  That is why she is so successful in her business of designing livestock facilities.  She sees the whole project in her mind before she even draws it.


She says that "[I]n addition to visual thinking, there is pattern thinking and word thinking."  Each style has its strengths, and, working together, they complement each other in accomplishing various objectives.