A Lark

The Solar Barque

    Discovered in 1954 by the Egyptian archaeologist Kamal el Mallak, the solar barque was in pieces in a pit at the foot of the Great Pyramid.  The 144-foot long vessel may have transported the pharaoh's earthly remains across the river Nile for burial, or symbolically, transported the king to his afterlife.
    In past extravagant exhibits of King Tut's burial chamber treasures, I recall a small gold solar barque, with a solitary figure standing in the bow.  At first I thought it was a toy as he was the child king.  But the longer I stood still, breathing, observing, I recognized it as a symbolic depiction of the journey across the river of consciousness, of a return to the source.
    The lingering question:  what survives to make this journey?
                                                       #############
                   Photo by Andy Parker

In a moment...

   

A life ended, in a moment, his car spun out of control and rolled and he was gone, in a moment.  All expectations for his future, his art, his life with his new young bride, all ended yesterday afternoon in light traffic, on a dry freeway in my hometown.
    Grief has weight, mass, it sits heavily on my chest and pulls my cheeks to jowls and I cannot cry.  Nor ask why...

                                                        KYLE TORRETTO 1977 - 2009
                            ##################################################

The Angle of Incidence

    The angle of incidence is the falling or the manner of falling of  a ray of light, according to my 1937 New Century Dictionary. But it is the second definition that put me in mind of grief...how do we relate to grief in our lives?   Or according to the second definition, what is the range of influence of a thing  (such as loss of a loved one)...how does this manifest?
    For me it was a sensation of vertigo.  No center, no fixed point on the horizon, no center of gravity to anchor me, in other words...one more step and the weight of the grief would determine the angle of the fall.
    What brings us back from the edge?

We are all Little Gods...

   

...aren't we?  Didn't your mother and father adore you, like my mother and father adored me, in part, as an extension of themselves?  I was not clever enough to come to this on my own, by no means.  Even though it was pointed out to me years ago;  I had to live it, experience it, observe it, taste it.
    These beautiful children in Hyderabad, India are parading in celebration of the Hindu gods Krishna and Gopika, playing flutes as they walk in their finery. 
    At least one can hope that when they take their heavenly crowns off, they are simply children.

More than 30,000 gather peacefully for sunrise vigil at Stonehenge.

    The British Heritage Trust estimates 36,000 people attended the summer solstice vigil over the weekend at Stonehenge.  At least one Druid couple were married at dawn; while other revelers packed up and moved on to the famed or infamous Glastonbury music festival.

Fashion Week in Jo'burg South Africa Eclipses London, Paris and New York!

   

    Why?  Because it's feminine, alluring, wearable and not at all evocative of your gay hair dresser's homo erotica!  Which is fine for him...but not to be fobbed off on us as "fashion" ---but what do you think?

Pass the Honey Mead! It's Summer Solstice!

  

     Awed by the great power of the sun, civilizations in the northern areas have for centuries celebrated the first day of summer otherwise known as the Summer Solstice, Midsummer, St. John's Day or the Wiccan Litha.   The Celts & Slavs celebrated the first day of summer with dancing & bonfires to help increase the sun's energy. The Chinese marked the day by honoring Li, the Chinese Goddess of Light.

    Perhaps the most enduring modern ties with Summer Solstice were the Druids' celebration of the day as the "wedding of Heaven and Earth", resulting in the present day belief of a "lucky" wedding in June.

    Today, the day is still celebrated around the world - most notably in England at Stonehenge, pictured above, and Avebury, where thousands gather to welcome the sunrise on the Summer Solstice.

    Pagans called the Midsummer moon the "Honey Moon" for the mead made from fermented honey that was part of wedding ceremonies performed at the Summer Solstice.  Ancient Pagans celebrated Midsummer with bonfires; couples would leap through the flames, believing their crops would grow as high as they were able to jump.  Midsummer was thought to be a time of magic, when evil spirits were said to appear. To thwart them, Pagans often wore protective garlands of herbs and flowers. One of the most powerful of them was a plant called 'chase-devil', which is known today as St. John's Wort is and still used by modern herbalists as a mood stabilizer.

        Photo Credit:  Stonehenge Shadows, Marc Cleven   Aug. 2007

A Kabul Morning

    These daughters of time stroll in the early morning light in Kabul.  Shimmering azure robes fold like Fortuny silk and when they emerge from their blue chrysalis are they free? 

            Photo credit:  BBC 6/17/2009

All is not as it seems.

    Of course, I find things are rarely as I think they are.  Either I am completely out in front of myself, taking life on the chin, living like a pinging pin ball; or, I am totally in my head imagining how life should be.
    Luckily, I 'came to' one day early in my marriage  to an aspect of this day dream life. 
   I realized my poor husband didn't have a chance communicating with me  because he didn't have a copy of the script.  You know the script running in my head listing all his shoulds, shouldn'ts and even his appropriate reactions!
    I wonder how often I blind-sided him with a comment from the script.  His reaction must of been much like this cyclist experiencing this mural on the London towpath designed to slow down cyclists. You know, "Whoa, where did that come from?"

    

        I particularly enjoy the board across the work.

James Joyce fans...what day is today? Why Bloomsday, Sir!

    This Dublin actor is taking to heart his role in the day's Bloomsday events celebrating James Joyce's epic novel Ulysses which takes place in and around Dublin on June 16, 1904.
    In my hometown, local media celebrities and authors would begin reading aloud from Ulysses in the morning and continue until the pubs closed.  The proceeds from patrons eager to support the celebration of Joyces's break-through work would go to local literacy projects.
    Joyce's early work was printed in the U.S. in a famous avante-garde journal, The Little Review.  Like many famous authors and editors of the time, the two women behind The Little Review became students of the leading mystic-sage of the  20th Century, G.I. Gurdjieff.