Come To Your Own Conclusion

Archaic Torso of Apollo

2012-01-02T09:35:00.003-05:00

We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast’s fur:

would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Feast or Famine

2011-12-30T08:57:00.000-05:00

"Two" pictures are worth a thousand words? Fill in the blanks.

Haiti elementary school room, March, 2011.

U.S. elementary school room, 2011.

Battlefield 3

2011-04-20T08:59:00.005-04:00

I was "forced" to watch an ad for the Battlefield 3 video game on the Internet, before being able to access what I wanted to access. During this ad "they" promoted how great this video "game" is because it is "life-like".

What? Life-like war zone battle?

This gave me an idea. Why not have anyone who wants to buy/play this game, first serve a day(s) in a real war zone, before being allowed access to this game. Life without the "like".

This way users can experience the full life thrill of actually being in battle and for no extra cost, inclusion of the reality of being killed (or worse, injured for life) and/or watching your war friend be shot and/or doing the same to the "other side". It never gets better than the real thing, baby. (Thanks, Coke.)

But until then, keep playing war videos on parent bought computers, in comfy little kid caves and have it!

Life-like. I feel like a rude awakening is hovering on the horizon.

Play Ball!

2011-04-03T23:07:00.001-04:00

As of last Friday, the 2011 Cub season has begun.

"Wait till next year" has begun for this year!

"Shut Up!"

2011-03-23T21:04:00.001-04:00

Picasso Show, Richmond, Virginia

2011-03-05T06:48:00.001-05:00

Hall of Famer Snider passes away at 84.

2011-02-27T18:09:00.001-05:00

The Gap Widens

2011-02-10T21:20:00.004-05:00

I'm not sure when it starts.

When I first realized it, I dismissed it. It was what it was. But it continued to happen. It's a gap of experience with those who are younger. The more the gap widens, the more noticeable it is. Immersed in the immediacy of their own experience, they are blind to mine. All they know is what they know. Myths without feeling. I've passed on to the other side. My experiences are becoming invisible.
(To note: video is approximately 8 minutes long.)

Anyone, anyone?

2011-02-09T06:21:00.002-05:00

Whether it be live in a classroom or on a computer in an on-line course, the responsibility remains the same. Engage, motivate, retain, connect the content to measurable goals. How many times does one have to say it, "What will the student be able to do as a result of?" Of note, it doesn't say, "What will the student know as a result of?" Unless one is planning to be on Jeopardy, just to know is just that.

If I know how my boiler works when I ask for the $10 question in the Boiler's category, I'm a winner. But if my boiler stops working and I know how it works? I'm warm.

To note, technology can only give back what you put into it. The iPad is not our savior. An iPad is an iPad.

It's in the water tower!

2011-02-01T07:34:00.001-05:00

The King's Speech

2011-01-29T07:54:00.002-05:00

Not "Made in China"

2011-01-29T07:50:00.000-05:00

The Road Not Taken

2011-01-02T09:18:00.005-05:00

So how did it come down to being a decision between people starving and the killing of animals? How does it always seem to come down to an issue between people vs animals? I thought "we" were all here together, you know, balance of nature and all that stuff. Sharing the earth, giving and taking, to support life?

Isn't the Tanzania road about more than just killing animals? Isn't it more about eliminating a piece of the pie that supports the whole pie?

At last check, isn't a "human" a mammal? An animal? The biggest difference being that humans have intellect? If this is a fact, I am humored by it. According to humans, the assumption is having intellect is a positive feature. Is it? Or is our intellect going to eventually shrink the world so small, we will become extinct, leaving only the animals to survive? (Was that me you heard laughing?)

Rest assured, I'm pretty sure the animals would never miss "us".

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Ron Santo: 1940-2010.

2010-12-04T08:06:00.001-05:00

The Circle Remains Unbroken

2010-09-03T06:48:00.003-04:00

Wanting to read Fahrenheit 451, I went to Amazon.com to check it out in the Kindle Store. To my surprise, not available. Now what? Buy the book on-line and wait for it, read it and then do what with it? Sell it in our next yard sale?

But wait a minute. Somewhere from the depths of my memory, I felt a stirring. Then it came back to me. The library. You know, the place with books, you can check out for free?

Today I got a Richmond City library card. I then promptly went to the card catalog to locate my book. Did you know they no longer have wooden drawers with index cards in them?

In any event, I went to the Science Fiction section and there, arranged alphabetically by author's last name, was my book by Ray Bradbury. It felt good in my hands. I carefully opened the cover, seeing the 1967 last printing date, I thought of all the people who had read this very book I was holding. It was a good feeling. A feeling of connectedness. This feeling continued when, in a neighborhood library full of people, I spotted an acquaintance, we waved, sharing a smile.

Next week, after reading Fahrenheit 451, I will walk to the library, getting some fresh air, exercise, see what's new in the neighborhood, and check out my next book to read, Catcher in the Rye.

You guessed it. This isn't available at the Kindle Store either.

If one didn't understand, they may wonder why I am glad this was so.

A Day at the Park

2010-06-23T16:40:00.008-04:00

Washington Nationals vs Chicago White Sox,
June 19, 2010.

The impression I had was Washington decided to build their new stadium downtown, on the river. Sounds great. But when I got off the Metro, I first noticed the complex (which is the name I use vs stadium) was pretty well sealed off from the city. You could have been in Anywhere, USA, only having access to the complex. You entered via the center field area and both walkways to the left and right were a series of commercial food chain stores. Much like a mall's food court. Much like meaning it was exactly that, thus the continuation of the building of the generic America, blotting out regionalism. Just to the left, in it's own building was a very large PlayStation and video arcade. I'm only guessing they were included in case someone had mistakenly become trapped inside the complex and couldn't find their way out, needing something to do.

The field itself was beautiful. Meticulously cut rich green grass with the smooth browns of the infield. Ah, baseball. But alas, in center field loomed the largest "Jumbletron" I had ever seen. It's size and scope menacingly looked over the field demanding you're attention vs the live players warming up on the field. When the game begun, it was the center of attention. It dictated the pace, information, mood of the game. During the game, some young Secrest-type of boy, with a mike, did live interview/stories in the ballpark which aired on the Jumbletron, causing me at one point to ask the stranger sitting next to me, "Where is that person? He appears to be in the stadium somewhere, but I don't see him anywhere. Why isn't he watching the game? Or better, why are we watching him and not the game." And the Jumbletron's pace was feverish, constantly bombarding its audience with stories, ads, facts and figures, Hollywood poses of players flexing their muscles before they batted. I think in a short period, I was developing symptoms of autism. To tell you the truth, when a batter comes up in a particular situation, let's say a man on first, one out, the batter needs to at least move that runner over to second, the pitcher's role is to not let this happen, which dictates the sequence of pitches he is about to throw, all the while the fielders appropriately position themselves to be in the best possible spot for this situation, the shortstop and second baseman giving each other open/closed mouth signals behind their gloves indicating who will cover second if there is a play there...and during all of this (which is taking place in a short span of seconds), coaches on the field/dugout furiously are sending out coded signals scripting the next few minutes in time. To savor this moment, taking in all possible scenarios, predicting the outcome, I don't need the Jumbletron's help. I do not need to know where and when this player was born. I do not need to know their favorite food or color. I do not need to know their average in every possible situation. I do not need flashing digital signs telling me to clap. I do not need LOUD bad punk rock music playing. What I need is peace and quiet so that I can think and feel the tension and drama which is being played out on the field. The sounds of baseball; crack of the bat, infield chatter, leather ball hitting leather gloves have all but been lost.

But what disturbed me the most was what the average fan couldn't see. As part of the package, we were given a VIP tour of the stadium. I naively thought this would be such landmarks as the locker rooms, bullpen, dugout, but instead, a marketing tour of the private clubs buried in the belly of the stadium. All of these were accessible only by a club ticket holder or the most exclusive, President's Club. I'm was never sure who was ever allowed access there. I'm certain it could never be me. All of them reminded me of airline club rooms. Leather chairs, couches, restaurant, bar and many, many mini-Jumbletrons. The selling point was why sit in the heat watching a game, when you could be inside? I pinched myself to see if this was a dream, but it was not, at least I don't think so. I'd have to go back again to make sure, but I know I'll never be allowed to witness these clubs again as one of the "small" people. During this part of the tour, a thought flashed through my mind...the division between those in America who have money and those who don't, is widening. The smell of stale beer, lingering cigar smoke, empty crushed peanuts shells were no where to be seen and somewhere in my unconscious soul, I knew it just wasn't right to be walking on carpeting in a baseball stadium.

My greatest sadness was walking down the long hallway which entered the President's Club. On the wall was a framed photograph of every President throwing out the first pitch at a Washington opening day. Politics were lost in these pictures, captured was the greatness of that traditional moment of baseball. Suits and ties, commissioners. It is a unique time line of America history. Missing? There is no picture of Obama throwing out a pitch. Maybe because they didn't want a tie less, White Sox capped man involved. Or maybe because it was the Vice President throwing out the ball while Obama was performing the honors in Chicago? No matter, as this isn't about Obama, it's about the change of attitude I felt. The casualness prevailing now in America. Individualism vs team play. This was highlighted for me when later that day I saw a young woman in a White Sox's baseball jersey which read on the back, Obama. No one ever told me he played for the White Sox. Too many political speeches now include the word "I". I left the President's Club knowing I would never be able to see it again. The good part was I thought was not a bad thought.

This leads me to other issue of the day, Strasburg. I came to the complex on the Strasburg wagon, but I chose to walk home. Strasburg himself appears to be a nice, level headed boy. I only wish him the best. But the more Strasburg shirts I saw being sold/worn, the more hype I heard, the more I realized that he is now but a marketing tool, pawn for the Nationals higher ups, the less I remembered the Strasburg the pitcher. The latest word was the Nationals owner says it will be a crime if Strasburg isn't included in the All-Star game. Strasburg who has pitched less than 27 innings in the major leagues in the All-Star game. Does anyone remember Kerry Wood tieing the major league game strike out record in his rookie season? I only mention this because Strasburg is not the first. But his situation matches the times of America. He lives on speculation. Promise. Hope of the future. He made 15 million dollars before ever throwing a major league pitch. He sold out the complex before ever throwing a major league pitch. Now they want him in the All-Star game before throwing 27 innings of baseball. Lost is the fact in his third game he lost to Floyd who's record was 2-7. Strasburg left after 7, Floyd after 8. Same line. 1 run, 4 hits. Though the Jumbletron reminded me Strasburg just a major league record. He has the most strikeouts of any rookie pitcher in their first three games. Fluff. It didn't say anything about the his failed bunt attempt to advance a runner in a one run game situation. The next day it won't mention Peavy, the White Sox pitcher, who will throw a 3 hit, complete game shut out against the Nationals. Strasburg is just Strasburg right now and that is what it should be. He may be the next Ryan, Koufax, but today he is not. He is just another hard throwing young pitcher who should be judged on his game to game merits and enjoy that moment. I find it ironic he is compared to Mark Prior a previous first round pick. Are we that desperate we need to invest our emotions in what could be rather than what is? But this is the same country which is now 13 trillion dollars in debt, is living daily with an oil leak filling up the Gulf of Mexico and I can't find out why my neck hurts because I can't afford to go to the doctor since raising my deductible so my monthly payment would be a mere $507 a month instead of $678 a month.

After the game ended, it was announced there would be a fireworks show in twenty minutes. Again, I asked the stranger next to me, "Is it the 4th?" Ok, fine, fireworks. Better let the people in the Arcadia know. Or the people in the President's Club. What I didn't know was the best was being saved for last, as the following announcement informed everyone, in order to be able to see the fireworks it was suggested you move to the third base side. I thought this was strange and a bit of a logistical inconvenience considering there were 40,000 people in attendance. Aren't fireworks up in the sky? Can't we just look up? Silly me. If you didn't move, the Jumbletron would block your view. The Jumbletron, of course. Never underestimate the influence and power of the Jumbletron.

My favorite part of the Wizard of Oz is when Dorthy and friends come face to face with the great Oz. It's Toto who pulls back the curtain which exposes the common man behind the curtain controlling all the levers of Oz. Yet when he realizes he's been discovered, instead of immediately owning up to it, he yells over his loudspeaker "pay no attention to that man behind the curtain."

As I write this three days after being at the complex, the National debt is larger, there is more oil in the Gulf and Strasburg still has a chance of playing in the All-Star game.

Chris Brown

2009-11-23T10:34:00.009-05:00

"Richmond fans show love, forgiveness"
Richmond Times-Dispatch, Monday, November 23, 2009

Let's see...Michael Vick:

Spent over one year in jail
Lost over 100 million dollars
Still faces public humilitation

Wasn't Chris Brown convicted of beating Rihanna?

I'm confused.

I'm left with a very universal sad queasiness.

2009-09-10T07:46:00.011-04:00

(AP) WASHINGTON — An undercover video shot by an animal rights group at an Iowa egg hatchery shows workers discarding unwanted chicks by sending them alive into a grinder, and other chicks falling through a sorting machine to die on the factory floor.

Chicago-based Mercy for Animals said it shot the video at Hy-Line North America's hatchery in Spencer, Iowa, over a two-week period in May and June. The video was obtained Monday by The Associated Press.

Hy-Line said in a statement it has started an investigation "of the entire situation," adding that it would have helped their investigation "had we been aware of the potential violation immediately after it occurred."

The video, shot with a hidden camera and microphone by a Mercy for Animals employee who got a job at the plant, shows a Hy-Line worker sorting through a conveyor belt of chirping chicks, flipping some of them into a chute like a poker dealer flips cards.

These chicks, which a narrator says are males, are then shown being dropped alive into a grinding machine.

In other parts of the video, a chick is shown dying on the factory floor amid a heap of egg shells after falling through a sorting machine. Another chick, also still alive, is seen lying on the floor after getting scalded by a wash cycle, according to the video narrator.

Hy-Line said the video "appears to show an inappropriate action and violation of our animal welfare policies," referring to chicks on the factory floor.

But the company also noted that "instantaneous euthanasia" – a reference to killing of male chicks by the grinder – is a standard practice supported by the animal veterinary and scientific community.

According to Mercy for Animals, male chicks are of no use to the industry because they can't lay eggs and don't grow large or quickly enough to be raised profitably for meat. That results in the killing of 200 million male chicks a year.

The United Egg Producers, a trade group for U.S. egg farmers, confirmed that figure and the practice behind it.

"There is, unfortunately, no way to breed eggs that only produce female hens," said the group's spokesman, Mitch Head. "If someone has a need for 200 million male chicks, we're happy to provide them to anyone who wants them. But we can find no market, no need."

Using a grinder, Head said, "is the most instantaneous way to euthanize chicks."

Hy-Line says on its Web site that its Iowa facility produces 33.4 million chicks. Based on that figure, Mercy for Animals estimates a similar number of male chicks are killed at the facility each year. Hy-Line did not comment on that estimate.

Mercy for Animals says it will call on the nation's 50 largest grocery chains to include labels on their eggs that say, "Warning: Male chicks are ground-up alive by the egg industry."

Head called that proposal "almost a joke," saying the group had no credible authority, and had questionable motives. "This is a group which espouses no egg consumption by anyone – so that is clearly their motive." The video does in fact end with a call for people to adopt a vegan diet, which eliminates all animal products – meat, eggs or dairy.

Nathan Runkle, executive director of Mercy for Animals, said most people would be shocked to learn that 200 million chicks are killed a year.

"Is this justifiable just for cheap eggs?" he said.

As to more humane alternatives to disposing of male chicks, Runkle said the whole system is inherently flawed.

"The entire industrial hatchery system subjects these birds to stress, fear and pain from the first day," he said.

The Huffington Post
September 10, 2009

Grateful for the Day

2009-09-07T06:29:00.010-04:00

Jack Foco: March 13, 1950 - November 10, 1998

"My artistic purpose is two-fold: first, to make my mark; and second, to live in the creative process. To make my mark in this world I have chosen painting as the medium, and the feeling of grandeur I feel when I finish a piece is priceless. It is like walking among the clouds. My spirit soars like a hawk, and at that moment, I am the greatest artist in the world.

In 1991, I resigned from my sixteen-year employment with a major computer corporation and moved with my wife Jill to Richmond, VA to pursue painting as my work. I would stand outside all day in the hot Richmond sun. It was not unusual for me to work on a piece for over a month, returning to the site day after day. The weather is fairly stable, which meant the scene I was painting stayed the same. I was able to work out my struggles directly on the canvas, scraping, building, and stripping again and again until the piece was done.

In the summer of 1993, we re-located to Iowa. This move had an enormous impact on my creative process. No longer could I stand in one place and paint for very long because the change in the light, the wind, and the terrain was too dynamic. I reduced my completion time from four weeks to one week. In this first series of Iowa works, I completed twelve paintings. I then started a series of fifty palette knife paintings, which helped me to work more directly and spontaneously.

Although the palette knife paintings added a spontaneous dimension to my process, I began to struggle with the challenge of painting a landscape that offers more horizontals than verticals. Looking up, the sky presented me with a solution, and I began to render more and more of the sky and its shifting patterns as a part of each painting. The horizon line became less and less important.

During this time I also came out of my "winter denial." In 1993 through 1996, I painted landscapes in sub-zero degree weather through the windows of our house and the cab of my truck, but mostly held my breath and waited for spring. I also painted interiors. Then I discovered the floral still life as a way to stay in touch with nature while exploring technique, color relationships, textures, and brush strokes in my studio. Having complained about the Iowa winter for three years, this fourth winter actually set me free. This spring when I went back outside to paint, I found my winter work had ripened my vision.

In April I began to experience the first symptoms of my illness, including headaches and an inability to find words to express my thoughts. On June 23, 1996, I was admitted to The University of Iowa Hospital for surgery and was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumor. Needless to say, my life and Jill’s life have been torn apart. One day I was healthy, the next, terminally ill.

At first, the outpouring of love and support from our friends and family was enough to carry me; however, acceptance of the prognosis of my illness, that this brain tumor will kill me, has been difficult. I still don’t believe it fully, but tests continue to confirm the tumor’s existence, and so reality prevails.

Regardless, I am still working at my vision. I picked up a brush the first day I was home from surgery, and my painting continued. I find I am now able to use pure color and my paint application is very bold. I think I knew all along in what direction I wanted to take my painting, but for some reason I wouldn’t let myself go there. Now that my time is limited, I am free to do so. Before the tumor, it seems that I was going about from day to day without the sense of urgency one needs to accomplish great things. I felt this urgency in the beginning, but I allowed the "work-a-day" attitude to permeate my creative process. My part-time job to put food on the table began to take time away from my real work, making art.

It takes time to make art, to move in a direction. An artist friend once told me when I first started painting to decide whether or not I wanted to move towards the abstract or the real. I could never decide. Since the diagnosis, I find myself making that decision by using colors and brush strokes motivated by imagination rather than by what I actually see, particularly when it comes to depicting large areas.

Yesterday afternoon, while outside painting, it came to me that I may not even live as long as six months more. And that means that I may not get to where I want to be in my art; I may run out of time. This depresses me. And the question has become "How can I sustain my enthusiasm for my art?" Today’s reality is that I am alive. I’m making art, today. My friends and family love and support me, today. I am actually working as well as I ever have, today. So, despite the fact that life has me pretty well "boxed in," the only way out is for me to continue to use my art as a medium to communicate with others and myself and God."

And with that, I tell myself, "Go on, be grateful for the day! Go out and paint!"

Traveling through the Dark.

2009-09-07T06:22:00.003-04:00

William Stafford (1960)

"Traveling through the dark I found a deer dead on the edge of the Wilson River road. It is usually best to roll them into the canyon: that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing; she had stiffened already, almost cold. I dragged her off; she was large in belly. My fingers touching the side brought me the reason -- her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting, alive, still, never to be born. Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead it's lowered parking lights; under the hood purred the steady engine, I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red; around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for all of us -- my only swerving -- then pushed her over the edge into the river."

2 + 2 = 5

2009-09-06T16:05:00.010-04:00

How To Stop Worrying And Start Living
Dale Carnegie

"Is it any wonder, then, that we find it so hard to get at the answers to our problems? Wouldn't we have the same trouble trying to solve a second-grade arithmetic problem, if we went ahead on the assumption that two plus two equals five? Yet there are a lot of people in this world who make life a
hell for themselves and others by insisting that two plus two equals five-or maybe five hundred!"