Solitude

"La Toilette" (1896), by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

Though I value my time with friends and family, I need private space and ample opportunity to think through things on my own. I used to see this as a fault of mine, this inability to cope with reality while in the frequent presence of others, but now I suspect that it's a universal condition. I believe that each of us needs time alone, even removed from those we love the most. As Henri Nouwen wrote,

"Solitude is the furnace of transformation. Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self."

In the past, I've resorted to all manor of elaborate escape seeking solitude, from fleeing the hemisphere to spending time in a monastery. For the foreseeable future, however, that kind of exodus is impossible. Enter "the Man Cave".

For the last six months or more - and concluding today - I've been working on my Man Cave, formerly a one-bedroom apartment in the basement complete with bathroom and kitchen. The details of this seemingly endless campaign are too boring even for friends who care, but the tasks have included painting, electrical work, tiling, trim installation and threatening legal action against various suppliers and contractors.

I am reminded of a wonderful passage on the subject in the book, "The Winter of Our Discontent", by John Steinbeck:

"It has no name in my mind except the Place - no ritual or formula or anything. It's a spot in which to wonder about things. No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself. Now, sitting in the Place, out of the wind, seeing under the guardian lights the tide creep in, black from the dark sky, I wondered whether all men have a Place, or need a Place, or want one and have none. Sometimes, I've seen a look in eyes, a frenzied animal look as of need for a quiet, secret place where soul-shivers can abate, where a man is one and can take stock of it."

So true.

What I've observed over the last several years is that contemporary American society does not readily tolerate a "professional" man's need for occasional solitude. At present, it is more acceptable for women to step away in order to rediscover or reinvent themselves (witness the huge success of the indulgently self-oriented book, "Eat, Pray, Love"), but men today who seek solitude as a source of strength and peace are considered apathetic, unfocused and unreliable. It remains the case that the extraordinary work of Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Mahatma Ghandi (not to mention Hitler, and let's not) all included significant periods of isolation and quiet contemplation.

But I ramble. The best book on the subject that I can suggest - and I do - is "Solitude: A Return to the Self" by Anthony Storr.

Get away.

Chimney Rock

This amazing photograph was taken by Ken Johnson, and records the lunar standstill at Chimney Rock (Colorado). Read this article to learn how this particular celestial event may have played an important role in the location of certain Anasazi structures. Click on the photo for a larger version.

The Technological Imperative

"The Scream" (1893), by Edvard Munch

I was watching the trailer for the film Naqoyqatsi and noted the tagline, "There is no more nature. There is only technology." That assertion made me think about the tense relationship between the two, and how the modern world is caught somewhere in the middle.

When philosophers invoke "the technological imperative", they refer to two closely related ideas that try to describe how human beings have come to perceive technology:

1) Once technological advances have been made, further progression is inevitable. In this sense, technological growth - and man's embrace of it - is unavoidable and can not be reversed. For example, can you imagine a future world in which people desired black and white televisions and gravel roads? How about one that rejected the use of antibiotics or tractors? Interestingly, while our society as a whole seems to accept that technological progress is inescapable, some individuals still attempt to moderate the impact of its onward march. Consider that Amtrak now carries a single "quiet car" on most northeastern routes in which cell phones can not be used, and some couples avoid pharmaceutical birth control strictly because it is "unnatural".

2) If something can be done (if it is technically possible), then it ought to be done. The most oft cited example of this view was the French politician Jacques Soustelle who said of the atomic bomb, "Since it was possible, it was necessary." This second view goes beyond the first notion of inevitability by suggesting a moral imperative. Therefore, if we can go to Mars, we ought to. If we can keep a man alive for 200 years, we ought to. If we can find a technical solution to a problem (perhaps one that has a compelling human or spiritual solution), we ought to employ technology.

Should we, really?

I am a big fan of technology, but I am increasingly wary of its influence on our lives, specifically the way in which it separates us from nature and deprives us of authentic human experience. Or, as Max Frisch put it,

“Technology is a way of organizing the universe so that man doesn’t have to experience it.”

What is "natural" and how much of our existence should include this quality, even at the expense of efficiency? I can't say that I know for sure. Email is fantastic, but we should weigh the value of a typewritten letter with the value of a face-to-face encounter. Does checking the weather online provide us the same connection to the earth as going outside and taking measurements - and does that matter? Is the use of a stethoscope really as valuable as a doctor putting his ear on your chest? Maybe, and maybe not.

The painting above is "The Scream" (1893), by Edvard Munch. In his diary, Munch wrote of this day, "... my friends walked on, and there I still stood, trembling with fear - and I sensed an endless scream passing through nature." I believe that it was good for Munch to feel nature's cry. I doubt that he would have had the same experience watching this sunset on television.

Merry Christmas

This icon is one of several that can be found here.

Opus

Opus, by Berkeley Breathed.

Merry Christmas to all you penguin lovers out there.

Offloading for Mrs. Schwartz

Elephants never forget.
Video found on the French website CUBE.

My favorite collection of short stories (which has nothing to do with elephants, but does have something to do with forgetting) is called, "Civilwarland in Bad Decline" by George Saunders. One of the more touching pieces from that book was originally printed in The New Yorker on October 5, 1992 (Tina Brown's first edition) and is called, "Offloading for Mrs. Schwartz".

This is a story about a man whose job is the memory trade, and his relationship with an elderly shut-in named Mrs. Ken Schwartz. Take a few minutes to listen to the story as read by the author on NPR's This American Life. The story itself begins at the 17:48 mark. Listening is free.

Homemade Sin

"Cheerios 1, 2, and 3", by Honor Marks.

I eat for many reasons, though these justifications seem derived mostly from two contesting paradigms: 1) It's good for me, and 2) It makes me feel good. More often than not, the extent to which some morsel is nutritious is inversely proportional to the degree of comfort it provides. At this time of year, I value health less than good cheer, and so I expand. I suppose that my diet is better than heroin or glue, but probably not by much. Besides, God gave us New Year's resolutions.

I have become more and more interested in cooking over the last several years. At first, I just wanted to get into a kitchen, and maybe "make something with my hands" (for once), so I volunteered to bake bread at my local Great Harvest Bread Company. Once I moved back to Atlanta, I began working as a Chef's Assistant at The Cook's Warehouse. This program lets one attend their very expensive cooking classes for free, in exchange for helping the primary chef prepare ingredients, teach the class, and clean up.

Anywho, while my thoughts are on food, and my waist, I wanted to share the following recipe. It's my favorite snack at Christmastime - my mother used to make this stuff by the metric ton. It's very simple to throw together, and it will boost your morale. Trust me.

"Homemade Sin"

• 18 Square graham crackers, crushed (put them in a zipper bag, squeeze out the air, & smash them in the bag)
• 6 oz. package of semi-sweet chocolate chips (or, try dark chocolate.)
• 6 oz. package of butterscotch morsels
• 1 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)
• 1 can sweetened condensed milk

My mother's instructions, "Mix everything together in a bowl. Turn the mixture into a very well greased (butter) 8" or 9" square pan for 25-30 minutes in a 350 degree oven. It should not get too hard while baking; just brown the top. It will look a little soft but will firm up some as it cools. Cool thoroughly before cutting into squares."

The art at the top of this page is by Honor Marks. Cheerios 1, 2 & 3 are three separate paintings presented as one triptych. Check out Honor's website for more wonderful work.

Hallelujah

One of the songs that has touched me the most over the last several years is the Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah". I became aware of John Cale's version (what I still consider the best) while curled up on the couch watching the show "Scrubs", and it brought me to tears. Above is the song as it appears in that episode, "My old lady". Cale's 1991 studio recording is surprisingly hard to get a hold of (mine came off of the 1996 Basquiat Soundtrack), but you can see a live performance below.

Over the years, and more often recently, this song has been recorded by a large number of people. Click here for a truly wonderful version by Jeff Buckley from the 1994 album Grace, vaguely reminiscent of the Cowboy Junkies' Trinity Sessions.

One cave at a time.

One of my former students, a U.S. Marine, doing the nation's business in Iraq. Photo taken by embedded reporter. Click on the photo for a much larger version.

Wassily Kandinsky

"Composition VII" (1913), by Wassily Kandinsky

Wassily Kandinsky's work is lovely to me. Colorful, fun, complex and almost entirely meaningless. Yes, yes, I know that to art purists the world over, hard core abstraction is rich and full of... whatever it's full of, but to me, it is solely aesthetic. I simply look, and enjoy. Make a point to see the large collection held by the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris. (Click on either image for a larger version.)

"Yellow, Red, Blue" (1925), by Wassily Kandinsky

Regina Spektor

Regina Spektor's breakout album "Begin to Hope" was released in 2006 with the catchy single (and creative video) Fidelity, and rightfully made several critic's Top Ten lists. Her music is all at once sophisticated and childlike, melancholy and whimsical. Her voice is lovely, cutting and unique. This particular album is one of the extraordinary few to which I never tire of listening. The video above, "Us", is from an older album called "Soviet Kitsch". While not my favorite song, I think it gives the best example of her range and musical innovation. The video below, "On the radio", is from "Begin to Hope". Be sure to check out this version of the hit "Better", "Sampson", and the rest of her video postings on YouTube.com. And, if you click here, you can listen to an 80 minute concert broadcast on NPR using RealAudio. Good stuff.

Analemma

"Analemma Over New Jersey"
Tom Matheson of Guidescope.net

I found this wonderful slide show on the website, "Astronomy Picture of The Day". Here is the description taken from that page:

An analemma is that figure-8 curve that you get when you mark the position of the Sun at the same time each day throughout planet Earth's year. Above, 26 separate exposures were recorded to illustrate the regular solar motion -- a difficult project performed mostly during the calendar year 2006. The images were taken at 8 am in the morning in northern New Jersey, USA, and digitally combined with a single foreground image later. The individual images have since been combined into a movie. Solstices correspond to the top and bottom of the figure-8, indicating the northern and southernmost excursions of the Sun in the sky. The tilt of planet Earth's axis and the variation in speed as it moves around its orbit combine to produce the graceful analemma curve.

Here are several others taken directly from Astronomy Picture of the Day:

"The Analemma and the Temple of Olympian Zeus"
Anthony Ayiomamitis

"Solar Eclipse Analemma"
by Tunc Tezel and Cenk E. Tezel

"Martian Analemma"
Dennis Mammana of Skyscapes.com
(This last image is a simulation.)

Hope III

"Child in a Straw Hat" (1886), by Mary Cassatt

It's gonna be a girl. A confident, spirited girl.