In related news . . .

I just finished the 3rd draft of my "Decorating nature" book. Diane Ackerman wrote me back (very exciting) and said she couldn't write the introduction 'cause she has her own book to write. (not as exciting.)  Anyway, the book can be read here: 

http://issuu.com/normmagnusson/docs/dec_nat_10_13

One of the new pieces in it is this one below and below the image is the text that accompanies it.

I read a story years ago. Some kinda Zen parable about an art student of some sort

who had been given an assignment to arrange pebbles on a table top. 

Each time she thought she had nailed it, the master told her:

“No. Try again.”

All morning long and through lunch she worked and presented her work to the master.

Each time she thought she had arranged the stones perfectly, the master’s reply was the same.

Finally, about to try again, she snapped. Deciding that she would never be able to get them perfect,

she threw the stones down on the table and walked away. As she reached the door, she heard

the master’s voice. He stood regarding the latest arrangement and had said just one word:

“Perfect.”

I work hard to get my arrangements “just so”. Not too studied, not too haphazard,

not too this, not too that. Just right. This arrangement just happened. I had to stop myself

from mucking it up with my taste and my ego and my self-consiousness. And just let it be.

Perfect.

 + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + 

And here's the latest amazing thought that's come into my lately damaged life: the Japanese art form of kintsugi celebrates the cracks and imperfections of the valuable object in our lives (and by extension ourselves) by making repairs in precious metal that both celebrates and repairs the damage. For more on this gorgeous art form, click on the links below.

http://listeningtoleaves.blogspot.com/2012/11/kintsugi-art-of-repairing-teaware.html

http://www.examiner.com/article/kintsugi-mending-our-wounds-with-gold

 + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + 

Somehow these two things seem related. But maybe I'm just a little too imperfect to exactly know how.

Talk talk

This cute little story has been making the rounds on the interwebs for a while now:

How to Handle a Rumor: The Test of Three

Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you either hear or are about to repeat a rumor.
In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Test of Three."

"Three?"
"That's right, Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to test what you're going to say. 

The first test is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it."
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's True or not."

"Now let's try the second test, the test of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him even though you're not certain it's true?"
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.

Socrates continued. "You may still pass though, because there is a third test - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be Useful to me?"
"No, not really..."
"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"

The man was defeated and ashamed. This was the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.

Of course, it also may explain why Socrates never found out that Plato was fucking his wife.)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

I was reminding of this story as I was mulling over this new phrase I'd just learned thanks to my ex-brother in law: lashon hara. It's Hebrew and here's what Wikipedia has to say about it: 

The Hebrew term lashon hara (or loshon hora) (Hebrew לשון הרע; "evil tongue") is the halakhic term for derogatory speech about another person.^[1] Lashon hara differs from defamation in that its focus is on the use of true speech for a wrongful purpose . . ." (more here)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

True speech for a wrongful purpose, and, it goes on, true speech that has unplanned negative consequences. Hmmm.

This thought resonated deeply with me last week as I found myself trying to do what's best for me and for those I love but hurting people anyway. Sometimes, it seems, even while walking the path of righteousness, we inadvertently end up doing the wrong thing. Certainly there's a Greek myth about that.

Générique de début

Summer's here and thoughts this morning turned toward one of my favorite films of all time, a quiet slice of beauty called "Mr. Hulot's holiday." Unless you're in France, where it has the name seen on this screen grab from the opening credits, below. Click this link to watch the 85 second opening.

Generic pop tarts

I don't really like Quentin Tarantino. I don't really believe he's all that talented. I didn't really like "Django" (though I did like the characters in it) but I did really love Pulp Fiction. And continue to love it. Recently, I spent a sweet evening home watching it with Daisy, my 16 year old. She loved it too.

This morning, when I woke up thinking about the choice of off-brand "toaster pastries" for the scene, I decided to re-visit it and Youtube decided to cooperate.

Holy canoli, what a great scene. And what a great scene for sound effects. I just love the way it all goes down, one thing leading to another, sound-wise and story-wise. Watch here:


 

Thought fragment and a related painting.

I've had a thought in my head for a week or so and it's this: ". . . not waste any time not appreciating how beautiful things are." Now, this is the thought. As is. I assume that by "things" I mean the world around me and it puts me in mind of a description from a precious little book I read 25 years ago: "the Tao of Pooh." In this book, sort of an introduction to Taoism through the story of Winnie the Pooh, the author tells of a painting called "The vinegar tasters." In this painting, three men are standing around a vat of vinegar. Each has dipped his finger into it and tasted and each of them has a different look on his face: as memory serves (it still sometimes does) the man representing Confucius has a sour look on his face, displeased with the bitter taste, the man representing Buddha has no look on his face at all, representing his liberation from the trappings of the physical life and the man representing Lao-tse, the founder of Taoism, has a big smile on his face, representing his joy in all the experiences to be had in the wonderful world around him. You can see why I connected this thought fragment with this painting I'd read about so long ago. Here's an image of it I found online:

And here's a little blurb about the painting from Wikipedia. Reading through it just now, it appears my memory served me up a mixture of the correct and the incorrect. Delightful.

I'm on TV!

What fun. Just found this on Youtube. I missed it when it originally aired and apart from looking funny for sitting cross legged like that (I didn't know they were shooting from the side) I'm pretty happy with how it turned out!

A hundred!

Well, I've finished 100 pieces in my "decorating nature" series! You can see them all by clicking here or you can read the book I wrote on that body of work by clicking here.

And to celebrate, here's a link to the video that Chronogram Magazine put together when one of the "Decorating nature" pieces was on their cover: (I wish I didn't look so scruffy and tired!)

Mesmerizing

I love that word. Turns out it comes from a fellow's name: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Mesmer and though it's widely used to mean "to hold the attention of someone to the exclusion of all else", Mesmer himself was a little bit more mystical than Webster's. He believed that there was a "a natural energetic transference that occurred between all animated and inanimate objects . . .  called magnétisme animal (animal magnetism) and other spiritual forces often grouped together as mesmerism."  

Well, I don't know about you, but I've smelled smells and heard songs and tasted tastes and seen sights that are positively transcendent: that take me away, out of the daily grind and concentrate my attention on them and them alone. These things I've always called "mesmerizing" and the image directly below is the most recent example of something that has mesmerized me.

Found it online somewhere, I think on Facebook. (ha.) I simply find it mesmerizing; I could look at it over and over and not get bored. It also reminded me of this painting by Magritte, Les Jours Gigantesque (http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2012-06-20/ross-buys-magritte-work-for-11-3-million-nine-times-estimate.html)

And this album cover of a record I bought when it came out in 1977:

And last but not least, here's my favorite song ("Mesmerizing") off of a really incredible album: Exile in Guyville, by Liz Phair. Enjoy: