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Thursday, April 8, 2010
More on Hoh River Trust:
The Trust’s work is focused in three areas; restoration, stewardship, and outreach. We are working to restore the industrial timberland to a more naturally evolving condition that will enhance
habitat for the dependent species. We oversee the condition of the
property and ensure that its uses are compatible with our conservation objectives. And we engage the community in a meaningful way to ensure that this land retains its recreational and cultural vitality, and that ultimately the community has a true sense of ownership and stewardship over these lands.
Explore our website to learn more about the Hoh River and our work to help preserve this ecological treasure.
Hoh River Trust featured in recent Seattle Times article.
Recently the Seattle Times ran a feature article on the work being done by the Hoh River Trust. It described the work being done by the Trust as "one of the largest single conservation efforts in Washington".
We would like to thank the Seattle Times for taking the time to recognize the work of the Hoh River Trust.
Conservation victory: 7,000 acres along Hoh River permanently protected By Lynda V. Mapes
Seattle Times staff reporter
To view the article click here.
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As you stand along the Hoh River as we did last week and the bright sun filtered through the lush green canopy it is easy to stand in awe of the beauty of the river and the surrounding landscape.
However, we are constantly reminded that our forest stewardship extends far beyond preserving the visual beauty of this ecosystem. Home to Northern Spotted Owl, Marbled Murrelet, Pacific Chinook Salmon and
wild steelhead the Hoh River and Valley represents one of the last great
places to insure these species don't become extinct.
'Preserving a Last Great American River' means a lot more when you think of it in these terms.
Pushkara Sally Ashford, a resident of Whidbey Island in Washington, commissioned this handcrafted gypsy vardo which was built by Steve Habersetzer in collaboration with other artisans. Habersetzer built his first tiny home over 25 years ago and describes them as “a boat that goes down the highway.”
Pushkara designed the house during a workshop at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking called, “How to Build a Gypsy Wagon,” taught by Jim Tolpin and Habersetzer. The home measures 8-feet wide by 14-feet long. It has lots of storage, a comfy bed, a hidden away composting toilet, a basin with on-demand hotwater, a two burner cooktop, photovoltaic electric power and LED lighting, and a French propane stove for heat, an outdoor shower and ice box.
SingPeace! Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony was inaugurated at the Port Townsend Woodworkers' Show in November 2009. Its journey has continued with events on Whidbey Island and around the Puget Sound Region: Rainy Camp in Carnation, a 2-day retreat at Yoga Lodge, Earth Day, and DjangoFestNW in Langley and Whidbey-Camano Land Trust's 4.2 million dollar fundraiser for the purchase of the 664 contiguous acres of undeveloped land, the Trillium Community Woods. SingPeace! was featured at the Northwest Regional Folklife Festival in Seattle, May 2010. Sponsor of Rasur Foundation International's BePeace Foundation Course, SingPeace! hosted international peacemaker, Rita Marie Johnson at Whidbey Institute in 2011. Recently, the troupe made its way to Occupy Seattle where it was joined by members of the Seattle Peace Chorus, Seattle Labor Chorus and the Raging Grannies.
The SingPeace! mission has been to bring people together in community to "craft a culture of peace through music." The gyspy vardo has an added layer of intention to help inspire “people who are looking at smaller footprint options for housing and energy use,” says Ashford.
I want to thank Dan at Mangrove Seed for tipping me off to this story. Thanks again Dan!
Blogs, photos and videos available on the Tiny House Design and SingPeace! websites.
4/7/10
Gifts of Grand Mother Maple
In late March I gathered with Mick Dodge, Pushkara Sally Ashford & her son, David, for a singing celebration just before her maiden off-island voyage of the new SingPeace Gypsy Wagon.
There is an immense grandmother maple tree in Pushkara's front yard that
I was immediately drawn to dance with. Mick filmed and pointed out a
huge dead branch hanging on its last limb over our heads. Mick was
musing happily for the day when "Maple would gift this beautiful staff
in her own time."
Well, with last Friday's crazy wind storm, the time came and Mick salvaged the limb and began fashioning staffs, including one for me. When I went to visit him today, I was feeling cold, stiff and in need of motion and building heat. He started a fire in his tent wood stove exclaiming how much he loved "freeing and receiving the gifts of sunshine, wind and rain from the burning wood."
As I listened to his orally transmitted teachings, I began a daily dance to
explore and train with the gifts of grandmother maple's staff and the
fire's heat. I had never so consciously attended to receiving the
elemental gifts of heat & light from the stored energy of the sun as
they were released though wood burning. My body and soul were warmed by
the physical heat as well as the living poetic story of it all. I felt
my connected place in a larger context and community of all life. Mick
showed a manuscript from his friend's book-in-progress about how
changing our bodies can change the world. He told me that he never
trusts the written word or "talk" of an author till he can see the life
and "walk" that s/he lives. I was honored that he continued to say my
blog writing worked well for him because he sees that it arises from the
way I LIVE and share directly from this embodied experience and not
from disembodied LOGOS--intellect, logic and rational ideas from the
thinking mind alone.
In the film below, you can listen to some of the teaching he delivered in the
way he prefers-- directly, spontaneously and orally. He is also
sometimes called "the barefoot bard" because he naturally exudes and
transmits poetic expression of his inner life and wisdom derived from
decades of practice and experience of inner and outer wilderness
landscapes. I am grateful for our growing collaboration, understanding
and support of one another's gifts and intentions to walk our talk
because this path can be a challenging and sometimes isolated one.
I look forward to seeing the carved maple wood staff emerging as an empowered
object over time and practice with it. Much as indigenous people have
done for ages with their sacred tools, this training object will contain
and reflect the lessons and gifts I receive while working with it and
eventually it will be passed on to the next generation full of this
wisdom. There is a clear grace and rightness to this natural progression
of passing on gifts.This practice has been lost in much of our modern
social life and education if we forget to honor elders and ancestors for
their profound contributions-we are literally living extensions and
transmissions of them. I hope I can continue to remember and receive
inspiration from grandmother maple, Sense Say Mick, Kazoo Ohno, and all
my relations that have truly walked their talk before me.
The theme sentence of the upcoming event sponsored by MomoButoh Dance
Company and LiveEdge Woodworks
upcoming event is "Ask not what the trees can do for you, but...." You are not what you think say or do...you are the sum total of your actions, ideas and words that come TRUE. What are YOU doing for the trees? If you are going to be anywhere near S. Whidbey Island on Friday May 7 do not miss the amazing benefit for Whidbey Camano Land Trust's Trillium Land Purchase at Woodland Hall. Contact Momo TODAY --entry by reservation only through MomoButoh info at maureenfreehill dot net!
music: rachels
South African Song Soshalosa (trimmed-2) [HQ]
SHOSHOLOZA
Shosholoza was originally a sad song sung by people during hard labour, sometimes far away from home. It has become one of South Africa's most popular songs, especially as an anthem at sporting events. Rough English translation: Move faster, You are meandering on those mountains, The train is from South Africa. You accelerate, on those mountains, The train is from South Africa. "Shosholoza" means "Go forward" or "Make way for the next man". The word also sounds like the noise of a steam train. ("Stimela" is the Zulu word for a steam train).
Shosholoza, shosholoza
Kulezontaba
Stimela Sphuma South Africa
Wenu Yabaleka
Wenu Yabaleka,
Kulezontaba
Stimela Sphuma South Africa
Pushkara went in today (Friday) to stay the weekend. The wagon made a foray into the area today to circle Occupy Seattle and be a “presence” there. Pushkara has been in the park talking to the Occupy folks while the wagon circles. We’re basically harmonizing with Occupy AND the police, getting them used to seeing us and the wagon down there. We do have a permit for Sunday, so both groups should be helping us to get into Westlake Park.
Pushkara posted a notice on the Occupy Seattle forum, receiving two emails back from people who love music and really want to sing with us. One contributed a song. We will have a few copies of that song, as well as Sharon Abreu’s “Give the People Back Their Homes.” (Maybe we could do a whole “Occupy Songbook” !) We also heard back from the Raging Grannies, who are interested in joining us. No other choir has responded, but we have hopes that we’ll have more singers.
We’ll be marching on Saturday, but we’re not taking the wagon down. Chances are the streets will be cordoned off. The sleeping situation for Occupiers at Westlake Park is very dicey. They are defying the order to move and encouraging 500 tents for Saturday night.
A heads up: there’s a game at the stadium on Saturday where they anticipate 60,000. Occupy Seattle is working out plans to be there. There may also be thousands in the march. Traffic may be at a standstill for hours.
Setting for SingPeace! gypsy wagon during Djangofest, downtown Langley, next to City Hall.
2/7/10
Exuberant Animals
Here is another post borrowed from Maureen Freehill's MomoButoh blog. To see, read and enjoy more of her daily Butoh practice, visit her blog:
http://maureenfreehill.blogspot.com/2010/02/exuberant-animals.html
Barefoot Bard, Barefoot Sensei Mick Dodge, Walking Mountain Yoga, Training with the Elements, Exuberant Animal
Training, No Child Left Inside! check out these links for awesome body training for health & fitness in direct connection with earth and
community.
Training, No Child Left Inside! check out these links for awesome body training for health & fitness in direct connection with earth and
community.
Health and Exuberance Prescription to Take Daily:
Vigorous Physical Activity --- Real Food & Pure Water --- Outdoor Exposure in Nature --- Quality Sleep & Rest --- Positive Social Experience
---
Play and Good Humor --- Meaningful Engagement with the World -from the short form pamphlet for Exuberant Animal Movement
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Play and Good Humor --- Meaningful Engagement with the World -from the short form pamphlet for Exuberant Animal Movement
I met this amazing exuberant animal of a man yesterday hanging upside down by a strap from a picnic shelter on the beach. A friend of his had watched my daily dance with the newspaper on the beach and said it reminded her of the "Barefoot Bard" named Mick who I had to meet. Well, it was true. I was stunned by the liveliness and kinship I immediately shared with this passionate fellow. He quickly introduced and articulated an entire program of fitness training that centers around connection with the elements of nature as playmates and guides. It is always done barefoot and outdoors with simple objects like sticks and stones that can be found and made most anywhere. He also designs and makes these objects and special non-shoe barefoot coverings and leads trainings in this work. I felt I had stumbled upon a very familiar and somewhat more yang/active/masculine form of my daily dance practice. This system goes by a number of names. The pamphlets he handed me were from a Seattle based loose organization of trainers called "Exuberant Animal." It made more sense and inspired me more than any fitness program I have ever heard of. Other titles of his work include Walking Mountain Yoga where he takes trainees out into the clear cuts of the Hoh Rainforest and they interact with the stumps, logs, sticks and trees as teachers. They also do tree planting and forest restoration projects as training too. Neat!
I love the entire premise and practice of this work. It is a way to achieve physical vitality, lots of fun AND meaningful engagement with the natural world. They call it "proven countermeasures to the challenge of the modern world." It is unique also because along with training the traditional Body, Mind, Spirit, they include equally important training with the Land, Ancestors and Tribe. Wonderful! One of my favorite parts of the propaganda he gave me is the logo that graphically represents the purpose of this work as an infinity
symbol path. It traverses from the wilderness of the mountain through the village of community in the center and into the city of technology/culture/commerce and back again. It included ALL aspects our
current earth system in one gracefully simple balanced and dynamic image.
symbol path. It traverses from the wilderness of the mountain through the village of community in the center and into the city of technology/culture/commerce and back again. It included ALL aspects our
current earth system in one gracefully simple balanced and dynamic image.
So, my daily dance today was to take the paper "menu" he had given me with the basic "Short Form" of the Exuberant Animal daily movement practice for "vitality and physical happiness." Before I looked at it, I handed it over to my friend to read aloud the instructions as he filmed my spontaneous responses to the cues. It was a super fun game and the way I interpreted some of the instructions turned out to be quite different from the diagrams on the page. This is another thing I love about this system--like butoh, it is totally flexible, playful and responsive to who, when, where and what is available at the moment. Really, the best way to tell about this whole movement is to show the videos. Below are three from Mick and Walking Mountain and my own playful interpretation with thanks to AL for filming and directions. Enjoy!
Today's Question: How do you train and get fit? Do include your local tribe, ancestors and land as part of your fitness routine? How?
http://maureenfreehill.blogspot.com/2010/02/exuberant-animals.html
Hey folks - Wondering about the possibility of adding a "Groups" feature, in particular so that the people who are members of the SingPeace NING site who were also at the Whidbey Island BePeace training can connect and discuss how they/we are using BePeace in our lives, our work, etc.
Admins, what do you think?
Thanks for considering it - Becca
I have had the great good fortune to see
Pete Seeger play up close numerous times,
Sometimes with Arlo Guthrie side by side.
"Where Have All the Flowers Gone" is a
Haunting song I remember from my earliest
Days of music awareness on this planet.
I had heard vague whisperings of its origin,
And today I become aware of more, much more
Thank I knew before.
All because of a response I received
Related to the post on the mining disaster.
Some people learn, and it's usually a slow
Process or a lightning bolt to the head.
I love this version of Pete Seeger performing the song...
Does not fail to bring a chill and tears every time.
Hope you enjoy it...
Thanks to....:
Thespadecaller — February 18, 2008 — On July 26, 1956, the House of Representatives voted
373 to 9 to cite Pete Seeger and seven others (including playwright Arthur Miller) for contempt,
as they failed to cooperate with House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) in their attempts to
investigate alleged subversives and communists. Pete Seeger testified before the HUAC in 1955.
In one of Pete's darkest moments, when his personal freedom, his career, and his safety were in jeopardy,
a flash of inspiration ignited this song. The song was stirred by a passage from Mikhail Sholokhov's novel
"And Quie Flows the Don". Around the world the song traveled and in 1962 at a UNICEF concert in
Germany, Marlene Dietrich, Academy Award-nominated German-born American actress, first performed
the song in French, as "Qui peut dire ou vont les fleurs?" Shortly after she sang it in German.
The song's impact in Germany just after WWII was shattering.
It's universal message, "let there be peace in the world" did not get lost in its translation.
To the contrary, the combination of the language, the setting, and the great lyrics has had a profound effect
on people all around the world. May it have the same effect today and bring renewed awareness to all that hear it.
To that I add my voice and hope.
Singer/songwriters, Sharon Abreu and Mike Hurwicz will be in residence for the BePeace Course Retreat, August 1-4. Register for course: www.regonline.com/wi_bepeace.
Sharon & Mike's website: http://www.irthlingz.org/irthlingz/
Songweavers, Laurence Cole, Aimee Kelley Spencer and Aimee Ringle will join us for singing 'n mingling around the SingPeace! wagon, Wednesday evening, August 3. http://www.laurencecole.com/songweavers.html
She looked around to see where in the world an army didn’t exist.
It was Costa Rica. So that’s where American peacemaker Rita Marie Johnson settled down 15 years ago to begin her quest to change the world.
Johnson is the director of the Rasur Foundation International and the founder of the Academy for Peace for which she developed the “BePeace Foundations Course.” She brings her teachings to Whidbey Island for a retreat at the Whidbey Institute at Chinook from July 31 through Aug. 4.
One of the program hosts, SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace & Global Harmony founder and island resident Pushkara Sally Ashford said the program seeks sponsorships in order to send local teachers and community members to the BePeace Foundations Course at the institute’s Clinton campus.
The program has been taught widely in schools in Costa Rica since 2004 and is now moving into the United States. Rasur Foundation International aims to train educators in the BePeace method who, in turn, can train other teachers, students and parents in their local communities. The BePeace Course strives to equip people to use skills to resolve conflicts in a non-violent manner, while also providing life skills for making positive choices in general.
In Costa Rica, Johnson was able to influence lawmakers to establish the Ministry for Justice and Peace.
Also, since returning to the United States in 2009, she has taught at the National Academy for Peace in Shelburne, Vt. and in other locations around the country, including a model school program in Denton, Texas. The course in August will be the first in the Northwest region.
Ashford is excited by the prospect of creating a “BePeace” community on Whidbey Island.
“SingPeace! co-coordinator Julie Vosoba and I took the course with Rita Marie Johnson in Santa Cruz in April,” Ashford said.
The two singers have been spreading the word about the Whidbey Institute course ever since and stressed the celebratory component of SingPeace! that includes their fellow singer-songweavers who will share the experience at the institute. To that end, they have planned a pre-retreat meeting at Unity Church in Langley so folks can acquaint themselves with the practices of the BePeace program.
The meeting is from 7:30 to 9 p.m., Tuesday, June 28 at the church at 5671 Crawford Road. The goal is to eventually hold an ongoing series of classes designed for adults, families and children.
“Long-term, we plan to form a BePeace hub here on Whidbey that will ripple the methods for feeling, speaking, teaching and singing peace out into the community,” Ashford said.
It is not an unlikely vision as Johnson’s methods are meant to resonate with people from all walks of life and all ages.
The practice combines a scientifically proven method for “feeling peace” with a clear path for “speaking peace” that creates a compassionate connection to other people. The idea is a sort of “pay-it-forward” model, creating a continuum of non-violent behavior from one person to the next. Johnson says there are two skills that are essential for achieving a nonviolent way of life. One is an emotional skill, “feeling peace,” defined as the ability to remain peaceful under stress.
The other is a social skill, “speaking peace,” which is the ability to communicate empathically and honestly to others.
“Peace infrastructure is a new concept,” Johnson said.
“We have infrastructure for war — why wouldn’t we have infrastructure for peace? It’s so important to the well-being of our children.”
Her program has been extremely successful in Costa Rica. The Academy of Peace, where the program was first implemented, won the Changemakers Innovation Award: Building a More Ethical Society, and the Costa Rican Ministry of Education decided to implement BePeace in the national school system.
As an international peacemaker, Johnson has presented BePeace workshops in eight states and in Canada, Europe and Central America and at the United Nations University for Peace. In 2006, she completed a speaking tour in Japan on Costa Rica as a model of peace and in 2007, she served on the plenary panel “Women of Power” at the International Women’s Peace Conference in Dallas. That same year she was the keynote speaker for the World Day of Prayer at Unity Village, Mo.
Johnson was also instrumental in creating the National Peace Academy of the USA at Case Western Reserve University, in Cleveland, Ohio.
Ashford, who built a SingPeace! caravan in which she lives when traveling to spread her musical message of peace, is excited by the prospect of leading the community on such a journey.
“It’s the nature of pilgrimage that you never know exactly where it will lead,” Ashford said.
“This one is a collaborative effort that has brought many elements; many ‘pieces of the peace’ together. BePeace is the latest addition to the journey and one that presents a clear path and steps toward peace,” she said.
The course is hosted by SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace & Global Harmony, the Whidbey Institute and Aldermarsh/Marsh House Retreat Center.
The Whidbey Institute BePeace Foundations Course is from 6:30 p.m. Sunday, July 31 to 5 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 4. An early registration discount of $100 is available before July 1. To register visit www.regonline.com/wi_bepeace or call 341-1884. The Whidbey Institute at Chinook is located at 6449 Old Pietila Road in Clinton.
Meanwhile, in the aftermath of the March full moon sweat lodge for women which took place this weekend, I noted a significant change within myself. This experience prompts me to share the following:
The misty moon was radiant and full before our small band of women walked out to the sweat lodge. An altar stood beside the door of the lodge, long streamers of black, red, yellow and white cloth draped on boughs. We stood around the fire blazing nearby where the stones for our sweat were warming. We then offered our prayer ties, laying them together like a garland around the base of the altar.
Earlier, each of us had made and infused our prayers into 28 tiny tobacco pouches - 7 each in the colors on the altar: black (west), red (north), yellow (east), white (south) tied on a string. My heart and soul were poured into these prayers, though at the time, I hardly knew what I was praying for. The tears and the deep feeling that came with them informed me that something out of the ordinary was taking place, something outside the reach of words and thought.
I felt lifted and cleansed as sage was lit and passed around our bodies in preparation for entering the lodge. Two of the women stayed near the fire to assist with bringing the stones into the lodge. The others of us found our places, crawling in clockwise direction around the circle inside the lodge that had been crafted just that day. I smelled and touched the fresh cedar boughs, the damp earth beneath me, and felt the womb-like comfort of the sweat lodge.
Our guide entered the lodge and began chanting. He spoke prayers aloud in his native language, calling on the ancestors to honor us with their presence. He explained that his prayers were to the Grandfathers. He had asked them to invite and escort the Grandmothers to this sweat lodge ceremony. "Some are already here. Many more are coming," he told us. In an earlier meeting, he said, "The Grandmothers have the last word." Today he is turning his attention and working with a Grandmother Spirit that nudges him to support, honor and celebrate women stepping more fully into our power as creative healers and carriers of sacred ways."
In alignment with the intention of 13 Moons and as a grandmother who has been called along with other "elderwise" women to the SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage, I was invited to attend the first of the eighteen sweat lodges.
We waited as the blazing fire began to reveal the stones piled in its center. With shovels, the two women waiting outside took turns bringing the stones which glowed like hot embers, placing them, one by one, in the center hole circled by rocks inside the lodge. When all of the stones had been retrieved from the fire, they entered the sweat lodge and the door came down. We were in darkness. A sprinkling of rain could be heard on the tarp overhead. Great Spirit was pleased.
After several more chants and spoken entreaties to the ancestors, we were asked to call in the family of Great Grandmothers and Grandmothers of our maternal ancestral lineage. We invited them to sit and converse with us. I was surprised by how little I knew of these women who were the cause of my being alive in the first place. It seemed as I sat in the lodge that I still relate as a child to my Grandmothers, Dada and Grandma Hull and step-Grandmother Vivian. I could recall only one Great Grandmother who was known in her time as "The Little General." I wanted to learn more of each of their lives.
As water was ladled onto the hot stones, the temperature inside the lodge rose higher. Waters were also pouring forth from every orifice of my body. A sweat is like being inside a giant neti pot, the cleansing is inevitable. From time to time the flap over the entrance to the lodge was raised, to relieve some of the heat and smoke.
I was lying with my head close to the ground, where the heat is less intense, when we were asked us to sing a song, "any song." I sat up. We went around the circle. When it came my turn, half a dozen songs flooded my mind, but the one that won out was a Sanskrit hymn to Saraswati, Vedic goddess of knowledge, music and the arts. "Grandmother" of another ilk, I'd done puja, honoring to her for years in India, considering her my "patron deity." In the sweat lodge, I sang for the women in the circle as the creative force that the Goddess Saraswati embodies. With each one's song offering, I felt a tender closeness with the ancestors and among the women gathered in the lodge.
At the end of the sweat, we were invited to return to the house. I was aware of the lodge door opening, but had to be nudged to leave. I had not seen nor heard the women exiting to my left. Grandmother Moon had slipped behind the clouds. It was after midnight. The air was still.
Most of us were wearing light dresses that covered our shoulders and knees. One of the women, a sun dancer and grandmother, guided me beforehand in the ways of the sweat lodge. She'd loaned me one of her dresses. By now, it was soaked. We changed out of our wet clothing and made ready for a meal.
When all were gathered in the house, around a candle, we lit and passed around a very long, beautifully carved pipe.
After the pipe ceremony, we ate the ample food we'd brought to share. All of us had worked up quite an appetite by then. We said our thanks and goodbyes; I drove home and crawled into my bed just before 3 a.m.
On Tuesday, I woke in a lighthearted mood. Reflecting on the day before, I realized that a major shift had taken place within me. I wept with the newfound sense of communion and support from my maternal ancestral lineage. What's more, it was clear to me that a major obstacle to writing had dissipated like smoke in the heat of the sweat lodge. I'd spent hours on Monday easily writing and posting a blog to the SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage website. The creative river, Saraswati, was flowing, unimpeded by former mysterious and seemingly impenetrable blocks. What's more, I've walked about in a state of stillness and Grace, a kind of open-eyed and eye-opening meditation, since then.
A flooding of feminine, goddess energy, is forthcoming, now, to balance out the masculine energy of domination and dominion that has held sway on earth and perpetuated war as a solution to conflict for millennia. One delightful and unexpected consequence of designing and building a gypsy wagon for SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony has been the men it attracts. Men of mastery and skill, who recognize that the time for this rebalancing is now, have come forward with offers of help and support to the women in making their voices heard and heeded. Our Grandmothers sweat lodge guide is one of these. Mick Dodge, the Barefoot Sensei, who shares his practice on this website is another. We find brothers among singer-songweavers, Laurence Cole and Rob Tobias. While all of humankind are in this boat together, these enlightened men are proving the mast for the women's sails. Together, we are crossing the great water, making our way home.
Costa Rica disbanded its army in 1949, just a few years after the poem "Rasur or "Week of Splendor" was written in Spanish by Roberto Brenes Mesén. This prophetic poem, translated to English, tells the story of a master teacher, Rasur, who enters a mountain village and awakens the children to the ways of peace. The children's relationship with Rasur, opens the way to peace among all of the villagers. The poem became the basis of a proven, skills-based method for peacemaking now taught in the public schools and at the UN University for Peace in Costa Rica.
http://rasurinternational.org/documents/poem.pdf
I
Facing the town of Escazu,
Facing the town of Escazu,
among the emerald hills, hidden,
we found the village of Quizur.
Something really strange has happened
in this humble village:
from each crack of the old walls
rays of the purest gold are glowing,
the wind goes back and forth
joyful in the golden light
of the most exhilarating and bluest sky,
moistening our eyes with the sweetest
nectars.
As if enchanted, the mountain sings
with its crystal voice,
with the help of the tumbling waters
that come downhill, twittering along.
There is a melodious rumor,
so distant, so sweet,
just like a breeze
playing
with the flutes in the fronds,
over the valleys and the hills.
II
The children from this village,
and the children from vacationing families,
they have all met here, this morning,
and they have gotten lost,
beyond the deepest valleys, in the hills
bathed with splendor and turquoise lights.
Julian, the painter.
David, the mystic writer of tales,
and Servulus, too.
They have all parted.
They followed the paths which end
by the banks of the river.
Damian, the engineer.
Armando, the town’s judge.
Benjamin, the ox driver.
They all followed the paths through the woods,
heading for the hills.
Spread throughout the forest,
women call out the children by their names.
Only the leaves, like tongues, rustling on the trees,
answer their calls with slow and deep voices,
as if a chorus of echoes
repeated their cries at a distance.
The forest is no solitary place,
it is the divine mansion of magic deities,
who are always busy preparing
the magic brews, the fragrances,
the subtle virtues of the herbs,
the many tastes and syrups made with fruits.
Then they give them to the birds,
to men, and to themselves;
Thus they live surrounded by honey and perfumes.
But this morning the dryads' voices
are louder than the wind's:
you can almost see their white voices
entangled with the vines,
like climbing tresses aiming at the peaks.
Damian now presses on his march,
he calls his friends' attention.
Then they hear a chorus of children.
The children they are searching,
the children they cannot see...
The voices drift through the darkest pines.
The ox driver is restless.
He has never heard of
either cave or grotto large enough to hold so many children.
The Justice reassures him, then:
"If they are singing, they are well.
Magical shepherds guard over the flocks of children on this earth,
since they are the flowers of eternal beauty,
the flowers of truth and goodness."
the flowers of truth and goodness."
Damian noticed a little hut uphill and he headed towards it.
Benjamin could not recall that hut but then, as they got nearer,
the three men felt the strongest magnetic force which held them to the ground,
as if with many intangible chains.
They could not move.
They looked at each other in astonishment.
The three of them, transfigured,
without really understanding, apprehended and grasped the truth:
they were stepping into a forbidden circle.
the three men felt the strongest magnetic force which held them to the ground,
as if with many intangible chains.
They could not move.
They looked at each other in astonishment.
The three of them, transfigured,
without really understanding, apprehended and grasped the truth:
they were stepping into a forbidden circle.
At a distance, next to the hut,
they were able to see a reposing silhouette,
as if carved from light itself:
The same light which was now
spreading upon the forest.
It seemed to come from inside the mountain.
They felt a sensation of not belonging to the world;
they were able to see a reposing silhouette,
as if carved from light itself:
The same light which was now
spreading upon the forest.
It seemed to come from inside the mountain.
They felt a sensation of not belonging to the world;
their most subtle sensations floated to the surface
A world of visions and enchantment came alive.
A world of visions and enchantment came alive.
Coming from underground
the children's voices were flying like birds and they were singing songs
of the bluish dawn breaking in the forest.
All the villagers were running to the mountains,
their souls were exalted.
But none of them could cross
the line separating that world of mystery,
the children's voices were flying like birds and they were singing songs
of the bluish dawn breaking in the forest.
All the villagers were running to the mountains,
their souls were exalted.
But none of them could cross
the line separating that world of mystery,
from this other world of things,
that is unable to express,
like us,
their deepest feelings.
that is unable to express,
like us,
their deepest feelings.
The tongues of the leaves became silent once more.
Only Silence itself with its mossy feet, was stepping over the forest floor back and forth,
but leaving everything in perfect neatness,
as if the forest was an altar.
The radiant figure in front of the hut, suddenly interrupted its rest:
and then a point of light seemed to move:
Only Silence itself with its mossy feet, was stepping over the forest floor back and forth,
but leaving everything in perfect neatness,
as if the forest was an altar.
The radiant figure in front of the hut, suddenly interrupted its rest:
and then a point of light seemed to move:
The hamadryads rose to their lips,
the horns that were hidden in the vines,
the horns that were hidden in the vines,
and the music of the wind spread all over;
Wise and witty was their melody,
full of youth and human kindness.
Absorbed, as if entranced,
the visitors heard inside their minds,
a revelation of intimacies,
secrets known only to themselves.
It was an invitation to invade
each chamber of remembrances.
It was a call to consciousness itself
in order to evoke the images of dreams, in order to judge reality
while lying among the leaves and the vines.
But, since time is the creation of men, nobody knew for how long
this enchantment flowed from their own souls.
Suddenly they were awakened
by the repeated singing
from Dryads and children
throughout the enchanted woods.
full of youth and human kindness.
Absorbed, as if entranced,
the visitors heard inside their minds,
a revelation of intimacies,
secrets known only to themselves.
It was an invitation to invade
each chamber of remembrances.
It was a call to consciousness itself
in order to evoke the images of dreams, in order to judge reality
while lying among the leaves and the vines.
But, since time is the creation of men, nobody knew for how long
this enchantment flowed from their own souls.
Suddenly they were awakened
by the repeated singing
from Dryads and children
throughout the enchanted woods.
It was for the first time
the villagers had ever felt inside their minds
the discovery of a totally unexpected, interior kingdom of light and ideas,
Their first primal thought blossomed that day.
Damian and the Judge were calling out to the children.
Nonetheless, their calls were only raindrops
over the darkened hair of the stormy night.
The flocks of children seemed
to get together and then to separate:
they seemed more obedient to an unknown call
than to their own wills.
the villagers had ever felt inside their minds
the discovery of a totally unexpected, interior kingdom of light and ideas,
Their first primal thought blossomed that day.
Damian and the Judge were calling out to the children.
Nonetheless, their calls were only raindrops
over the darkened hair of the stormy night.
The flocks of children seemed
to get together and then to separate:
they seemed more obedient to an unknown call
than to their own wills.
Then the villagers began to recognize the only word
which was coming out of the children's row:
“Rasur! Rasur! Rasur!”
III
Evening,
wearing her robe of most splendid blue,
lies over the hills and is observed from the village:
David and Julian, Damian and Armando, they are talking,
it is more a soliloquy than a conversation.
David and Julian, Damian and Armando, they are talking,
it is more a soliloquy than a conversation.
They feel their souls as if they were vases bursting with clear water;
they would express their feelings
in one single, soft outburst of their breasts,
as water being emptied into the earthen container at the well.
they would express their feelings
in one single, soft outburst of their breasts,
as water being emptied into the earthen container at the well.
Then David says:
"Today you cannot complain
that my tales are pure fantasy;
your eyes have observed,
your hearts have responded
to the calls of vision and have felt
the illusion and the rapture."
Even Benjamin, the ox driver,
was transformed, and so he said:
"The words coming from Rasur
are fireflies shining in the dark,
"Today you cannot complain
that my tales are pure fantasy;
your eyes have observed,
your hearts have responded
to the calls of vision and have felt
the illusion and the rapture."
Even Benjamin, the ox driver,
was transformed, and so he said:
"The words coming from Rasur
are fireflies shining in the dark,
enlightening my mind as never seen before;
I do not understand what is happening inside me:
I do not understand what is happening inside me:
I am another Benjamin
and for the first time I am discovering within myself another Benjamin,
more powerful and real then the other one,
who was a mere illusion.”
and for the first time I am discovering within myself another Benjamin,
more powerful and real then the other one,
who was a mere illusion.”
"Around Rasur," states Julian,
"the light seems whiter, the air purer,
his eyes seem to read from the deepest waters,
the ground, the light, the air;
and his gestures and his words surround you in mystery
and go deep into your thoughts.
He provokes a feeling
of being initiated into the occult,
as David used to tell us
when he read the Iambic and the Proclus.
"the light seems whiter, the air purer,
his eyes seem to read from the deepest waters,
the ground, the light, the air;
and his gestures and his words surround you in mystery
and go deep into your thoughts.
He provokes a feeling
of being initiated into the occult,
as David used to tell us
when he read the Iambic and the Proclus.
Rasur is a source of miracles and a miracle:
The effects of his acts go far beyond
the expectations of the artist or the mechanic.”
The effects of his acts go far beyond
the expectations of the artist or the mechanic.”
Then Julian extracted green gemstones
from his pocket,
and showed them to his friends,
"These are the work of Rasur,
Myria, my daughter, told me,
as she has learned from Rasur
in the grotto,
from his pocket,
and showed them to his friends,
"These are the work of Rasur,
Myria, my daughter, told me,
as she has learned from Rasur
in the grotto,
when his figure glowed with a light
coming from inside his body
which has cleared the darkness there,
in the enchanted cave:”
She said to me:
"The luster of the green leaves
was made of earth and sun,
is made of air, of water and life,
is made with the air's life,
with the water's life,
is made of earth, sun and fire,
because everything in this world
comes from the divine mind,
and it is the essence of the world's life.
"The luster of the green leaves
was made of earth and sun,
is made of air, of water and life,
is made with the air's life,
with the water's life,
is made of earth, sun and fire,
because everything in this world
comes from the divine mind,
and it is the essence of the world's life.
Our own hands may heal,
because they possess the healing powers found in the roots of plants:
they may heal, they may poison,
they may kill, and alleviate,
and soothe and provide exaltation,
they may turn the ground into
brilliant luster, shining in the sun.
Look at the tree: it changes
the dark matter in the soil
into shining green leaves, and yet
you do not consider the tree
to be a miracle.
I do as the tree does:
I provide a certain glow to the pebble that tomorrow shall be dust or soil.
The Dryads who taught its tasks to the tree,
taught me as well, and they shall teach you, too,
if you should obey their Call."
because they possess the healing powers found in the roots of plants:
they may heal, they may poison,
they may kill, and alleviate,
and soothe and provide exaltation,
they may turn the ground into
brilliant luster, shining in the sun.
Look at the tree: it changes
the dark matter in the soil
into shining green leaves, and yet
you do not consider the tree
to be a miracle.
I do as the tree does:
I provide a certain glow to the pebble that tomorrow shall be dust or soil.
The Dryads who taught its tasks to the tree,
taught me as well, and they shall teach you, too,
if you should obey their Call."
Then Armando exclaimed:
"I sense a bit of paganism
in what Myria has just told us,
and also in what I hear from Grisda. Rasur has told them
the immortals never forget whom they have loved:
If we creatures of the flesh do forget our love
then it was never a true love:
they called love what was desire,
that vanishes into thin air
after it reaches the object of its lust. True love is born within the soul,
"I sense a bit of paganism
in what Myria has just told us,
and also in what I hear from Grisda. Rasur has told them
the immortals never forget whom they have loved:
If we creatures of the flesh do forget our love
then it was never a true love:
they called love what was desire,
that vanishes into thin air
after it reaches the object of its lust. True love is born within the soul,
in the divine mind,
and it is the essence of the world's life.
and it is the essence of the world's life.
it travels with the soul as its companion,
and it searches for the beloved beauty and finds it, at last, next to itself,
within the soul."
Grisda, my daughter, has affirmed this with such certitude,
that my own son Florio, smiling, incredulous
has asked her: "Then, who is Rasur?"
within the soul."
Grisda, my daughter, has affirmed this with such certitude,
that my own son Florio, smiling, incredulous
has asked her: "Then, who is Rasur?"
"Who he is I do not know,"
she answered, “But when I look at him, adoration is what I feel.
In his presence my ideas
struggle in turmoil,
and I am a goddess,
hovering over the ground
she answered, “But when I look at him, adoration is what I feel.
In his presence my ideas
struggle in turmoil,
and I am a goddess,
hovering over the ground
When I find myself in Rasur's World,
my life is like the lark in the fields,
soaring from the earth up into the sky, at daybreak.
We youngsters all become older,
and good and so beautiful,
we believe ourselves to be angels.
When Rasur speaks to us
and tells us that we are all imprisoned gods,
not one of us is coveting a doubt.
Rasur penetrates into our thoughts,
as if they were halls of his own home; we do what he wishes,
we feel happy to do what is pleasing us.
We youngsters all become older,
and good and so beautiful,
we believe ourselves to be angels.
When Rasur speaks to us
and tells us that we are all imprisoned gods,
not one of us is coveting a doubt.
Rasur penetrates into our thoughts,
as if they were halls of his own home; we do what he wishes,
we feel happy to do what is pleasing us.
Next to Rasur we live not in obedience as he does not command us,
because his will is ours."
Florio was mocking no more. Then, he asked me:
"What is your opinion of all this? Julian, I await your answer."
"I cannot answer you, for the time being, because brilliant sparks
are lighting in my mind,
and answers you shall see
in my paintings, in my landscapes.
Today I have learned to paint;
I shall paint as never before.
Today I learned that light itself
is the container of the very essence of Divinity,
that it creates reality and illusion in this world.
Out of Nature's imagination
come flowing the forms, the colors, the ideas conceived and expressed
"I cannot answer you, for the time being, because brilliant sparks
are lighting in my mind,
and answers you shall see
in my paintings, in my landscapes.
Today I have learned to paint;
I shall paint as never before.
Today I learned that light itself
is the container of the very essence of Divinity,
that it creates reality and illusion in this world.
Out of Nature's imagination
come flowing the forms, the colors, the ideas conceived and expressed
in light, in lines, in the shapes:
they all come out in the form of satyrs,
they all come out in the form of satyrs,
they all hide in themselves the divinity,
they provide the world with sense and beauty.
Without their divine core,
like drawings in the breeze they would be..."
Without their divine core,
like drawings in the breeze they would be..."
At that very moment, a beautiful girlish voice was heard,
it came from the garden across the path,
it came from the garden across the path,
and the girl was leading a bunch of village children.
None in the group of friends could recognize the girl;
they had never seen her before, but delighted,
they listened to her clear voice explain:
"In the presence of Rasur, our minds are set on fire,
None in the group of friends could recognize the girl;
they had never seen her before, but delighted,
they listened to her clear voice explain:
"In the presence of Rasur, our minds are set on fire,
the ideas turn to amber. When he leaves all remains as glowing coals
under a veil of ashes.
In silence he talks to us,
in silence we see his mind and his love.
under a veil of ashes.
In silence he talks to us,
in silence we see his mind and his love.
You already know how he reaches
our deepest thoughts,
as he enters our souls
as you enter the aisles of a church
as you go along through the paths in the meadows.
our deepest thoughts,
as he enters our souls
as you enter the aisles of a church
as you go along through the paths in the meadows.
In the presence of Rasur,
all is beauty, all is ease;
our fingers turn into ten little fairies,
all is beauty, all is ease;
our fingers turn into ten little fairies,
creating shapes and colors around them,
giving life to them with their touch.
Flowing from his eyes,
is medicine and magic:
a powerful evocation
calling up a swarm of memories, a turmoil of impressions
which used to dwell in limbo, where things left no trace,
if they ever were things.
We are empty caves through which He runs carelessly,
and we cannot help it:
we are His;
as the mango seed is to its fruit,
as the wing is to the bird.
He just taught us last night
that deep in the soul of the Earth
Flowing from his eyes,
is medicine and magic:
a powerful evocation
calling up a swarm of memories, a turmoil of impressions
which used to dwell in limbo, where things left no trace,
if they ever were things.
We are empty caves through which He runs carelessly,
and we cannot help it:
we are His;
as the mango seed is to its fruit,
as the wing is to the bird.
He just taught us last night
that deep in the soul of the Earth
Paradise Lost becomes eternal reality;
that we may reach that Eden
by following the paths which extend throughout our own selves.
that we may reach that Eden
by following the paths which extend throughout our own selves.
We know the guardians
in the mountains of Quizur,
from the Miner's Stone
to the lower slopes
which end just in front
of the church in Escazú.
We shall never be alone,
in the hills and forests
of these magic mountains.
The guardian rangers of these woods are all friends of Rasur's;
they have also become our friends. Their bright shapes intertwine
with the many other shapes at twilight. No one will deem them real beings.
But you know reality is not what it appears to be.
in the mountains of Quizur,
from the Miner's Stone
to the lower slopes
which end just in front
of the church in Escazú.
We shall never be alone,
in the hills and forests
of these magic mountains.
The guardian rangers of these woods are all friends of Rasur's;
they have also become our friends. Their bright shapes intertwine
with the many other shapes at twilight. No one will deem them real beings.
But you know reality is not what it appears to be.
Yesterday Rasur called to us:
"I create as the tree does,
from the darkened earth I start,
"I create as the tree does,
from the darkened earth I start,
leaves and flowers begin to grow,
and the delightful fruits as well.
From what you call darkness precious gems I make:
gilded stones glowing under the light of the cave.
Once a silkworm a loom
from the lilies stole:
But, I do not need to steal a loom
to render thoughts
where I knit the finest cloth;
where I paint the landscapes
and create the earth, the skies,
the souls of those who worship me,
gilded stones glowing under the light of the cave.
Once a silkworm a loom
from the lilies stole:
But, I do not need to steal a loom
to render thoughts
where I knit the finest cloth;
where I paint the landscapes
and create the earth, the skies,
the souls of those who worship me,
and even the souls of gods I sometimes visit,
bidding you farewell and leaving...
bidding you farewell and leaving...
Surya, the twelve-year-old sorcerer, interrupted that moment,
and with the voice of an exalted Muse exclaimed:
"I am perceiving the call of Rasur. Look at the top of the hills!
The Guardians have lit the little hut; the entrance to the grotto!”
Suddenly, springs and waterfalls of joy
came down the hills.
All the children of Quizur began to climb,
and with the voice of an exalted Muse exclaimed:
"I am perceiving the call of Rasur. Look at the top of the hills!
The Guardians have lit the little hut; the entrance to the grotto!”
Suddenly, springs and waterfalls of joy
came down the hills.
All the children of Quizur began to climb,
and chanted:
Rasur! Rasur! Rasur!
The call was expanding through the dales,
as trumpets sounded played by the Dryads,
hidden in the wind.
Each one heard his own name distinctly pronounced in the wind:
Rasur! Rasur! Rasur!
The call was expanding through the dales,
as trumpets sounded played by the Dryads,
hidden in the wind.
Each one heard his own name distinctly pronounced in the wind:
It was that loving voice!
The voice they had heard that very morning in the cave!
The voice they had heard that very morning in the cave!
IV
"Something great is happening,
in the village of Quizur,"
Said Julian to his friends,
and to the many neighbors
who came to express their
feelings and their concerns.
"Be happy", he reassured them,
"Joy is coming down the hills,
joy from an Enchanted Child."
"I have been thinking
"Something great is happening,
in the village of Quizur,"
Said Julian to his friends,
and to the many neighbors
who came to express their
feelings and their concerns.
"Be happy", he reassured them,
"Joy is coming down the hills,
joy from an Enchanted Child."
"I have been thinking
that like Rasur,
there was also Krishna, the Worshiped Child of India.
Krishna, like Rasur did,
has called upon the children,
to fill their minds with images of things to come.
The gods go deep into the spirit of men,
Krishna, like Rasur did,
has called upon the children,
to fill their minds with images of things to come.
The gods go deep into the spirit of men,
to find a place where divine will may grow
and flourish in the world of the future.
and flourish in the world of the future.
It is through Man that deities create the Universe.
It is in each of you that I discover a golden thread
among the ordinary colorless threads in the fabric of life.
Look: the twilight seems like a broken wire frame
where beautiful rags hang, illuminated with strange lights,
an eerie luminescence now mixed
with our everyday sunlight,
an unknown clarity coming from the deity our children call Rasur.
You already know
It is in each of you that I discover a golden thread
among the ordinary colorless threads in the fabric of life.
Look: the twilight seems like a broken wire frame
where beautiful rags hang, illuminated with strange lights,
an eerie luminescence now mixed
with our everyday sunlight,
an unknown clarity coming from the deity our children call Rasur.
You already know
that gods sometimes appear to us dressed in the poorest rags,
like the fairies do to meet you on the road.
Sometimes they also turn into a beautiful child
and leave men awestruck.
Saint Augustine, one day,
looking across the Mediterranean Sea,
Sometimes they also turn into a beautiful child
and leave men awestruck.
Saint Augustine, one day,
looking across the Mediterranean Sea,
exerted all his efforts in order to comprehend
the infinite power of God and His infinite wisdom.
Suddenly there appeared a child,
the infinite power of God and His infinite wisdom.
Suddenly there appeared a child,
and with a seashell he carried ocean water
to a little well he had dug in the sand.
to a little well he had dug in the sand.
Slowly, he went on with his duty.
The Saint came to him and asked
what was he doing.
The Saint came to him and asked
what was he doing.
“Inside this little well I want to pour the ocean,”
he replied.
“Impossible that is”, the Saint replied.
“I am doing just as you have done,” said the child,
“I am pouring an infinite amount of water within the limits of a hole;
just as you try to enclose God
inside your mind.”
he replied.
“Impossible that is”, the Saint replied.
“I am doing just as you have done,” said the child,
“I am pouring an infinite amount of water within the limits of a hole;
just as you try to enclose God
inside your mind.”
Look at the hills again!
The little hut at the top is shining,
as brilliant as a crystal reflecting fire.
The little hut at the top is shining,
as brilliant as a crystal reflecting fire.
The luminous shape walks around the hut
like a protecting deity: our children are safe!"
like a protecting deity: our children are safe!"
V
Julian is painting;
through his improvised workshop's window
one can see the mountain,
now called the Mountain of Rasur. Julian's palette was like a garden
where one could only see
the wild colors of the tropical forest.
The artist looked at the landscape
and then he painted,
as if he did not have a canvas before him.
Julian is painting;
through his improvised workshop's window
one can see the mountain,
now called the Mountain of Rasur. Julian's palette was like a garden
where one could only see
the wild colors of the tropical forest.
The artist looked at the landscape
and then he painted,
as if he did not have a canvas before him.
He used his brushes as if they were needles,
he embroidered the contours of his drawings:
the little hut, the shining guardian,
the mountain itself,
all bathed in amber light.
Each new stroke on the canvas seemed to add
a torrent of fresh light.
One could almost see the landscape coming through the window,
as the spiritual vision of the horizon,
he embroidered the contours of his drawings:
the little hut, the shining guardian,
the mountain itself,
all bathed in amber light.
Each new stroke on the canvas seemed to add
a torrent of fresh light.
One could almost see the landscape coming through the window,
as the spiritual vision of the horizon,
adhering itself to the artist's brush,
getting colors and infiltrating the artist's mind and eyes.
Each individual line of the painting seemed to attain
an extra-sensorial conception:
each stroke looked forward to the next, holding each other like sisters.
This exhilarating race with the brush was the artist’s delight at every hour,
Each individual line of the painting seemed to attain
an extra-sensorial conception:
each stroke looked forward to the next, holding each other like sisters.
This exhilarating race with the brush was the artist’s delight at every hour,
each color incarnated a new experience of spiritual intimacy,
an image, an emotion,
all of them surging
an image, an emotion,
all of them surging
from the unknown abodes of his inner self, until that day.
Everything was then revealed to him,
Everything was then revealed to him,
as if he were looking in the mirror of nature,
at that place where images are born for the happy reality of living things.
at that place where images are born for the happy reality of living things.
He painted as in ecstasy, a dream of many things,
trees, hills, the little hut, the wandering clouds
under the splendid morning sky.
When he removed the brush, after that last stroke,
the canvas seemed to him
trees, hills, the little hut, the wandering clouds
under the splendid morning sky.
When he removed the brush, after that last stroke,
the canvas seemed to him
the masterwork of another,
something like the expression of ideas
something like the expression of ideas
which are always found around the hills,
as if they were the winged fragments of divine truths,
perceived from the heights,
at that longawaited hour when the deities
favor us with their divine wisdom and sweet inspiration.
Even more astonished was the artist
at that longawaited hour when the deities
favor us with their divine wisdom and sweet inspiration.
Even more astonished was the artist
after looking at the wild dances of lines and colors,
since it was the same as the rhythm which was bursting in his soul
and slowly flowed to the painter's brush!
Voices heard at a distance disrupted the enchanted moment.
and slowly flowed to the painter's brush!
Voices heard at a distance disrupted the enchanted moment.
The painter took off his apron,
he stored the inks, the brushes and palette.
An hour of creation was gone now,
he stored the inks, the brushes and palette.
An hour of creation was gone now,
it was now in the limbo of thingsthatwere,
but then... who knows?
but then... who knows?
VI
The farmers,
the villagers
who live in Quizur,
facing Escazú,
are standing speechless
since they cannot express
their feelings
about what happens
on the fields,
and on the roads
and paths
around Quizur.
Their children repeat
one name only:
Rasur! Rasur!
They never stop praising
the wonders he performs;
they tell how he draws
in mid-air,
how the beautiful shape remains and glows,
like the flight of fireflies,
and refuses to disappear.
He polishes the pebbles
that the children bring him
in their pockets,
and they sparkle
like precious jewels
at an elegant store.
A girl called Denya brought him a badly wounded bird:
With a movement of his hands and with his breath
he healed it.
A boy called Flip tells us
how Rasur answers their questions without words,
as he always knows their thoughts, and their nightly dreams.
He slips into
their most intimate secrets.
Nothing is hidden from Rasur:
They have become transparent,
like the air and the crystal,
and he speaks to them at a distance, without using his speech,
and proudly they obey him,
but nobody notices
his soft commands.
The farmers,
the villagers
who live in Quizur,
facing Escazú,
are standing speechless
since they cannot express
their feelings
about what happens
on the fields,
and on the roads
and paths
around Quizur.
Their children repeat
one name only:
Rasur! Rasur!
They never stop praising
the wonders he performs;
they tell how he draws
in mid-air,
how the beautiful shape remains and glows,
like the flight of fireflies,
and refuses to disappear.
He polishes the pebbles
that the children bring him
in their pockets,
and they sparkle
like precious jewels
at an elegant store.
A girl called Denya brought him a badly wounded bird:
With a movement of his hands and with his breath
he healed it.
A boy called Flip tells us
how Rasur answers their questions without words,
as he always knows their thoughts, and their nightly dreams.
He slips into
their most intimate secrets.
Nothing is hidden from Rasur:
They have become transparent,
like the air and the crystal,
and he speaks to them at a distance, without using his speech,
and proudly they obey him,
but nobody notices
his soft commands.
And nothing do they know
about this Child,
who descended from the mountains,
about this Child,
who descended from the mountains,
who became the Lord of the Valley.
Yet they all adore him,
for the magic of his being,
for the beauty of his face
and the fire in his hands,
always modeling, always drawing, shaping what he wishes,
following a certain image created by his fantasy.
Nothing sleeps in his presence,
for the magic of his being,
for the beauty of his face
and the fire in his hands,
always modeling, always drawing, shaping what he wishes,
following a certain image created by his fantasy.
Nothing sleeps in his presence,
neither the children nor the flowers,
not even the sleep-inducing mimosa dares to close its petals and slumber,
when in front of Rasur's eyes.
The rumors of the Earth
are climbing up the trees,
and they tell Rasur the news
of its magical world of music,
with special words of remembrance,
The rumors of the Earth
are climbing up the trees,
and they tell Rasur the news
of its magical world of music,
with special words of remembrance,
mysterious remembrances,
from other lives in other lands.
In the darkness of the evening
they have seen him,
wandering through the hidden paths, returning to the earth,
by unknown mysterious ways.
There, in the deepest caves,
the gnomes have carved
a hall of stone for him.
So they say, Ania and Myria.
Out of every corner in the hall,
ancient voices from the past speak to him:
from other lives in other lands.
In the darkness of the evening
they have seen him,
wandering through the hidden paths, returning to the earth,
by unknown mysterious ways.
There, in the deepest caves,
the gnomes have carved
a hall of stone for him.
So they say, Ania and Myria.
Out of every corner in the hall,
ancient voices from the past speak to him:
They remind him of the many ideas,
of the many plans and intentions
that were in his mind
once he had decided to come down
to the village of Quizur.
There his imagination
is renewed,
full of power
it evokes a river of images, of thingstocome,
and thingsthatwere.
Of eternal light is
his mind flooded,
and from the highest peaks he calls.
To the Hall of Being they come:
of the many plans and intentions
that were in his mind
once he had decided to come down
to the village of Quizur.
There his imagination
is renewed,
full of power
it evokes a river of images, of thingstocome,
and thingsthatwere.
Of eternal light is
his mind flooded,
and from the highest peaks he calls.
To the Hall of Being they come:
those who were happy and great:
the Supermen of the Spirit,
from every corner of this world,
from every corner of this world,
they gather in merry assembly.
What Surya has understood, she is only twelve-years-old,
is all wonder for the engineer,
for the artist, for the ox driver,
and it astonishes the analytic mind of that honest judge, Armando.
She then explains that Rasur and other Great Beings,
that met on the highest peaks,
for the artist, for the ox driver,
and it astonishes the analytic mind of that honest judge, Armando.
She then explains that Rasur and other Great Beings,
that met on the highest peaks,
are masters of the natural forces that the wise men call the laws,
of those forces
generating every single thing
in the Kingdom of Life.
They are all the Inspirers,
not the Makers:
there are other invisible intelligences
in the Kingdom of Life.
They are all the Inspirers,
not the Makers:
there are other invisible intelligences
which are forces always designing and shaping
those atomic substances that conform everything existing on the Earth.
those atomic substances that conform everything existing on the Earth.
Their creative will
is the Supreme Will,
coming from the Brings
who harmonize their wishes to create supra-sensible models,
on the basis of eternal archetypes,
of a long-gone evolution.
In the Hall, Rasur is sitting, remembering
he is a child no more,
that his present form is just a segment
is the Supreme Will,
coming from the Brings
who harmonize their wishes to create supra-sensible models,
on the basis of eternal archetypes,
of a long-gone evolution.
In the Hall, Rasur is sitting, remembering
he is a child no more,
that his present form is just a segment
of the celestial circle which is of his Real Being,
just like we are.
We are like the fingers on his hands,
just like we are.
We are like the fingers on his hands,
and provide a shape
to inspirations coming from his mind.
to inspirations coming from his mind.
He teaches us how to create,
as he puts in ours a phosphorescent spark,
which slowly kindles our creative imagination.
He makes us understand the rumors among the trees,
the many sounds of the haunted, wild night,
the voices of hunting beasts.
Those sounds are just the voices of new creations,
from the essences and substances in the sap
that the smallest creatures on earth make,
even those in the depths of the soil.
as he puts in ours a phosphorescent spark,
which slowly kindles our creative imagination.
He makes us understand the rumors among the trees,
the many sounds of the haunted, wild night,
the voices of hunting beasts.
Those sounds are just the voices of new creations,
from the essences and substances in the sap
that the smallest creatures on earth make,
even those in the depths of the soil.
Those forest sounds are the thoughts of the gods of Nature
that the ancient Greeks called Pan;
and who started the renewal of the world.
and who started the renewal of the world.
For all the forms in Nature there is an Autumn
but the voices of god Pan
bring Spring for them again.
Each morning he sheds light over the newborn forms
which were conceived the night before.
but the voices of god Pan
bring Spring for them again.
Each morning he sheds light over the newborn forms
which were conceived the night before.
So the presence of Rasur in these beautiful hills
has brought us the vision of mysterious things
which cannot be observed with the eyes of humans.
All Nature is alive before us,
full of sensibility and a mighty intelligence.
Now we understand about the swarms of tiny creatures,
which destroy, build and renew the world,
has brought us the vision of mysterious things
which cannot be observed with the eyes of humans.
All Nature is alive before us,
full of sensibility and a mighty intelligence.
Now we understand about the swarms of tiny creatures,
which destroy, build and renew the world,
as a myriad of little hands working forever
only to create the infinite charm of Nature.
only to create the infinite charm of Nature.
VII
To Julian's house
Damian came.
A group of friends is admiring the artist's landscapes. Armando, the judge,
is expressing his feelings: "Everything comes alive on these canvases:
joyful light
runs and jumps
up and down the hills,
from the top
to the river banks;
the frothy waters of the streams, they give me this impression
of slow waters,
like a reflecting lens
that explodes
in a thousand emerald lights,
as if they had inside themselves the hidden enchantment
of this countryside
at this time of the day.
My senses are strained, awaiting a great surprise; tasting a miracle
about to happen.
The paintings around me seem to share
this most intimate anguish.
The beauty of your paintings
still remains in the hands of our Creator. They receive inspiration from the Highest,
murmur of a spring,
flowing among your rocks
and your grass, your trees,
and your water and mountains,
your colors contain the wondrous sap, that comes from a glance of fire
and from the many things that breath and palpitate in the lights
or in shadows of a sunset
yearning for the night.
The sky you paint is animated, with clouds and birds
crossing slowly
as if they were thoughts, traveling towards
a distant horizon of mystery,
To Julian's house
Damian came.
A group of friends is admiring the artist's landscapes. Armando, the judge,
is expressing his feelings: "Everything comes alive on these canvases:
joyful light
runs and jumps
up and down the hills,
from the top
to the river banks;
the frothy waters of the streams, they give me this impression
of slow waters,
like a reflecting lens
that explodes
in a thousand emerald lights,
as if they had inside themselves the hidden enchantment
of this countryside
at this time of the day.
My senses are strained, awaiting a great surprise; tasting a miracle
about to happen.
The paintings around me seem to share
this most intimate anguish.
The beauty of your paintings
still remains in the hands of our Creator. They receive inspiration from the Highest,
murmur of a spring,
flowing among your rocks
and your grass, your trees,
and your water and mountains,
your colors contain the wondrous sap, that comes from a glance of fire
and from the many things that breath and palpitate in the lights
or in shadows of a sunset
yearning for the night.
The sky you paint is animated, with clouds and birds
crossing slowly
as if they were thoughts, traveling towards
a distant horizon of mystery,
The air in your paintings
seems bathed in the purest waters,
it looks blue in the foreground,
dark and golden in the mountains far away.
seems bathed in the purest waters,
it looks blue in the foreground,
dark and golden in the mountains far away.
All that is found in Surya's narration,
inside the strange paintings I can see.
Even when it rains across the valley, you will find sunshine where we meet.
I believe that now I am grasping
what has happened inside your heart.”
what has happened inside your heart.”
Then David that silversmith, that mystic
spoke and said:
"He who knows only one truth,
is stuck like an anchored ship with no sails.
You have lived with an anchor until that day
when the presence of Rasur
broke the chains sustaining your anchors.
spoke and said:
"He who knows only one truth,
is stuck like an anchored ship with no sails.
You have lived with an anchor until that day
when the presence of Rasur
broke the chains sustaining your anchors.
Now your world is slowly beginning to spin in the other direction:
towards a different path.
The science you know is like a curtain, and it has been ripped apart,
and now you can see the real causes of things;
beyond the mere forms of things.
The Joy of Life is now entering the concentric spheres
towards a different path.
The science you know is like a curtain, and it has been ripped apart,
and now you can see the real causes of things;
beyond the mere forms of things.
The Joy of Life is now entering the concentric spheres
of your six senses.
The Wonder of Life is changing you; because, until now,
you did not feel like you had lived.
Your science is now a beautiful dead object
if it insists in extracting the content from the form,
and if still studies things separated from their spirits.
The beauty you see in these paintings
you did not feel like you had lived.
Your science is now a beautiful dead object
if it insists in extracting the content from the form,
and if still studies things separated from their spirits.
The beauty you see in these paintings
lives forever in the eternity of firmament.
Anything that is eternal
is the soul of a single instant
as the infinite is the soul of a single atom."
is the soul of a single instant
as the infinite is the soul of a single atom."
Silence covered them
as a white fan spreading
under the light of thinking minds. The workshop's little window enlarged as a stage
showing a new spiritual horizon over the face of the earth.
as a white fan spreading
under the light of thinking minds. The workshop's little window enlarged as a stage
showing a new spiritual horizon over the face of the earth.
So delightful was the pleasure they all felt
that the dreamlike enchantment seemed to have no end.
Damian was more of a matteroffact young man,
and here he is in the presence of something he has been seeing and feeling
these last four days.
And thus he spoke:
"As shown in Julian's paintings,
from the valley I have seen the glow
of the little straw hut,
near the top of the hill
and I have seen flocks of children entering the hut.
I have heard the strangest narrations, about the caves and caverns of Rasur;
these last four days.
And thus he spoke:
"As shown in Julian's paintings,
from the valley I have seen the glow
of the little straw hut,
near the top of the hill
and I have seen flocks of children entering the hut.
I have heard the strangest narrations, about the caves and caverns of Rasur;
lthough I do not know if what they say
is the truth or a mere creation
of their mind's fantasies.
But, nevertheless, I join them
in their happiness,
scattered over the hill and dale,
along every road and path,
near the valleys' inns and shelters,
as if Springtime were offering them a blue carpet
to enter the mansions of Nature.
Spring seems to laugh with them
in the blue and purple colors
of the wild flowers,
in the little songs of birds
or in the slow everlasting chanting of the stream.
A Holy Gospel of Beauty and Joy
seems to spread under the light of these surroundings:
I have never seen before the like of it. Julian's paintings have revealed this ecstasy,
and have the happiness that he felt
is the truth or a mere creation
of their mind's fantasies.
But, nevertheless, I join them
in their happiness,
scattered over the hill and dale,
along every road and path,
near the valleys' inns and shelters,
as if Springtime were offering them a blue carpet
to enter the mansions of Nature.
Spring seems to laugh with them
in the blue and purple colors
of the wild flowers,
in the little songs of birds
or in the slow everlasting chanting of the stream.
A Holy Gospel of Beauty and Joy
seems to spread under the light of these surroundings:
I have never seen before the like of it. Julian's paintings have revealed this ecstasy,
and have the happiness that he felt
as did the children and people from the village."
“While I was painting”, Julian, the artist, said “Nature herself was nurturing me with dreams.
“While I was painting”, Julian, the artist, said “Nature herself was nurturing me with dreams.
Hers is the beauty appearing in the dreams of trees,
of grass and weeds,
of hills and rocky peaks
of grass and weeds,
of hills and rocky peaks
we find in these surroundings.
Because all these things are alive
and they always dream about beauty.
Because all these things are alive
and they always dream about beauty.
The forest is always aware of its life and of its dreams.
And the waters in the streams
are also dreaming as they flow.
The clouds of purest white
descending from the slopes,
are roaming these valleys,
and dreaming as they float,
over the long valleys,
from Grecia to Escazú,
and from there to Santa Ana.
They drift on,
like a flock of sheep in the distance;
they fly over the fields and the plains and disappear into the blue sky,
as long forgotten strands of the fairest hair.
Such is Nature:
She creates as she dreams on;
Like any other artist she dreams of her creations
before providing them with a shape,
in her womb of clay.
Likewise, I have always lived dreaming, happily,
the dream of Nature that lives in my paintbrush,
on the canvas, on my paintings;
it grows and leads,
as the tendrils of the vine look forward to the hold.
My astonishment is like yours:
Never before did I paint
with such joyful feelings,
never with such easiness,
and with such delight. Art,
when not born of inspiration,
is just an artist and an easel.
The joyful artist feels a flow of creation within himself,
just as the playful stream
carves shapes inside the caves.
Ever since Rasur
has been living among us,
this countryside seems full
of images of fire,
they go off and on like fireflies do, flying between the reeds
and the jagged edges of the leaves;
And the waters in the streams
are also dreaming as they flow.
The clouds of purest white
descending from the slopes,
are roaming these valleys,
and dreaming as they float,
over the long valleys,
from Grecia to Escazú,
and from there to Santa Ana.
They drift on,
like a flock of sheep in the distance;
they fly over the fields and the plains and disappear into the blue sky,
as long forgotten strands of the fairest hair.
Such is Nature:
She creates as she dreams on;
Like any other artist she dreams of her creations
before providing them with a shape,
in her womb of clay.
Likewise, I have always lived dreaming, happily,
the dream of Nature that lives in my paintbrush,
on the canvas, on my paintings;
it grows and leads,
as the tendrils of the vine look forward to the hold.
My astonishment is like yours:
Never before did I paint
with such joyful feelings,
never with such easiness,
and with such delight. Art,
when not born of inspiration,
is just an artist and an easel.
The joyful artist feels a flow of creation within himself,
just as the playful stream
carves shapes inside the caves.
Ever since Rasur
has been living among us,
this countryside seems full
of images of fire,
they go off and on like fireflies do, flying between the reeds
and the jagged edges of the leaves;
Images all around are flying,
willing to live forever
they flow upwards as a fountain,
they flow upwards as a fountain,
born from Nature's imagination, running to find a place
in man's creative spirit:
they yearn to be fixed
in words or in a brush of light
in the blue air of my paintings:
I wanted men to feel what is not apparent.
I wanted to share what I now perceive in this ecstasy infused by Rasur.
in man's creative spirit:
they yearn to be fixed
in words or in a brush of light
in the blue air of my paintings:
I wanted men to feel what is not apparent.
I wanted to share what I now perceive in this ecstasy infused by Rasur.
Joy is like a spring of water that overflows
and runs over the fields,
as in that region of Umbria
where Francis of Assisi roamed, always singing:
"There is no valley of tears
in this Holy Land of Umbria."
All creatures living in these dales,
now feel like living under a new grace: when they stop to pick up a thistle
when they walk arm in arm
or just rest under a tree.
Men's voices are clearer and stronger,
and runs over the fields,
as in that region of Umbria
where Francis of Assisi roamed, always singing:
"There is no valley of tears
in this Holy Land of Umbria."
All creatures living in these dales,
now feel like living under a new grace: when they stop to pick up a thistle
when they walk arm in arm
or just rest under a tree.
Men's voices are clearer and stronger,
they sound like the rushes at the river,
those manly voices from the country lads.
Silver and crystals may be found in the shining voices
of women and children,
so happy they seem to be
since they are company to the adolescent god,
Silver and crystals may be found in the shining voices
of women and children,
so happy they seem to be
since they are company to the adolescent god,
since the day they learned to love Rasur.
Now that we live in Rasur's presence we share remembrances of people,
we recognize landscapes
which are not from these places of ours.
Now that we live in Rasur's presence we share remembrances of people,
we recognize landscapes
which are not from these places of ours.
He mixes our lives with those
from other people,
other civilizations.
I have found myself
painting about exotic places, strange dances and processions,
from other people,
other civilizations.
I have found myself
painting about exotic places, strange dances and processions,
which I had never seen before.
They are so real in my hands
and I am overwhelmed with wonder:
They are so real in my hands
and I am overwhelmed with wonder:
It is like living
in a garden of dreams,
this glorious place of Quizur,
with all its children, all its people.
in a garden of dreams,
this glorious place of Quizur,
with all its children, all its people.
Part of Rasur's enchantment it is all.
This is why we love this adolescent god, Rasur...
Namaste, SingPeace! friends,
With the SingPeace! gypsy wagon on the road, we are counting in smiles, not miles. As the journey begins, each of our recent short trips with the wagon has had a celebratory air, full of surprise encounters, challenges and fun.
Steve Habersetzer, the master craftsman who built the wagon, kindly towed the wagon across the water with his '57 Chev pickup. We've posted photos of Steve and Susan Leinbach, the seamstress who stitched the lovely interior furnishings - cushions, pillows, duvet cover, curtains and flouncy valance - for the wagon. We were met at the Port Townsend ferry dock with smiles, curiosity and comments of well-wishers: niece, Gabriella Ashford, and her three children, Ella, Nathaniel and Everest rode their bikes down to see us off. Deborah Shomer, one of our singing angels, was on hand to bless our launch. Richard Rhydes and Richard Epstein, members of the Whidbey Island cheering section for the SingPeace! project since the outset, happened along at just the right moment, on their way to a sushi lunch and a movie at the Rose, a charming Port Townsend theater.
Once on the ferry, Steve went over key points of the wagon's working systems, which I'd piled into a kind of manual. Propane, the tiny hearth and cook stove, water, outdoor shower, composting toilet, hitching mechanism: these were clearly going to take more than a cursory once-over, but there was no time like the present to begin learning what I'd need to know when we're the road.
I was reminded of bringing my first-born home from the hospital. 'My God,' I thought, 'what an awesome responsibility this is. And it's my call!' Birthing the wagon from conception and design, and nurturing every phase of it's construction to get to this point, was nothing compared to actually being charged with its daily feeding and care.
On the Keystone side, I jumped in my car to lead Steve and the wagon to Yoga Lodge. We were slow going on the highway, 40 mph in a 55 mph zone; I pulled to the shoulder a couple of times to let traffic go by. But the red sports car in my rear view mirror didn't pass with the other cars. What was that about? I finally got a view of the "Exuberant Animal" sign posted on the car's passenger door. Mick Dodge, the Barefoot Sensei, was bringing up the rear. He'd come to welcome the wagon home! Our little caravan made its way with ease and grace the short distance to Yoga Lodge, with one hitch: Steve's truck could not haul the wagon up the steep rise in the soft surface of the road. We tried 3 times and spun out 3 times. We all agreed, it would take a 4-wheel drive truck to get up the hill. We had to unhitch in the lot below and leave the wagon for the time being.
That same afternoon, I met with Wendy Dion and her husband, Dan, attending to other matters - namely, connecting up the projector and speakers for the film: "Sound of the Soul," which we planned to show as part of our homecoming program. Technology got the better of us; we would have to to work out the kinks with expertise none of us had. That, too, would have to wait for another day. Wendy agreed to take that bit on.
Fortunately, we had the cushion of another day or so to work out the wrinkles in our plans. Richard Epstein, who is a local contractor, wasn't expecting my SOS call for a tow, but he and Greg, one of his crew members, met me at lunchtime. We (they) managed to hitch the gypsy wagon to Richard's 4-Wheel drive truck. That was all we needed to get my 3500-lb. baby up the hill and in place for the weekend. Richard and Greg had some great practical suggestions to me about hitching and unhitching for the long-term as we get out on the road.
By the next day, Wendy had worked out the film projection dilemma. We'd also found a solution to transportation questions. We'd rent a shuttle to make the 2-mile trip from the Park & Ride to cut down on traffic and parking volume on the private road to the Yoga Lodge. This latter turned out to be a non-problem, but the article, "Giving Peace a Chance," in the newspaper announcing our coming had stirred some alarm among Wendy and Dan's neighbors; we were in "peace-making mode" on all counts.
Our homecoming at Yoga Lodge was to be a two-day encampment, with our out-of-town guest singer-songweavers, Laurence Cole, Rob Tobias and Sara Tone and friends staying overnight at the Lodge. We would be serving a few meals for program contributors on the weekend. Having worked out details of the menu beforehand with Wendy Dion - I would take the dinner meal. Wendy, with her Bed and Breakfast expertise, would handle the morning. What a bargain! Much relieved by the easing of various hitches and glitches, I went home to cook.
My daughter, Wendy Ashford, who has kindly photographed and helped to video the SingPeace! events, came up from Seattle on Friday night. Deborah Shomer arrived to help around noon on Saturday. Laurence Cole and his partner, Deanna Pumplin, already on the island, stopped in to say hello. Dizzied by details, but with the help of a thorough list and two able helpers - Deborah, Wendy - I (we) managed to pack up the car and get on the road in good time.
Next stop, the car rental place where we rented the van that Deborah offered to drive up island. It would serve as shuttle. Deborah and another friend, Lee Compton, agreed to make alternating runs. We had folks on the road, as well, directing drivers away from the private road to the Park and Ride. Making peace is not a pastime; we were quite literally going the extra mile to keep it.
By dinnertime, the cast of thousands was assembled. Wendy Dion had enlisted some competent volunteers to help out in the kitchen, and in other ways. We gathered around the table, about 14 of us, for a welcome and blessing - going around the circle, singing our names and hearing them echoed back several times by a musical, if goofy, choir of voices.
Having ample time to settle in, laugh, sing, to warm to each other, and to share food together are luxuries that I want to nurture as part and parcel of the SingPeace! journey. Nothing hurried; at ease and in harmony, on the ground and in good company wherever we go: these are pieces of the peace inside of the huge commitment and effort that comes with making such a pilgrimage. Not exclusive to those who came together around the table that evening, we seek to embrace in harmony and joy those we meet.
More than that, we have talked long about how folks should be able to take something home with them that they can share with their families and communities. While our "Songs for a Culture of Peace" -- those shared this weekend by Laurence, Rob and Sara -- hint at what it could mean to live in unity with nature - our own and our Earth Mother's, I have to ask: "Why am I not singing my song?" I want to hear everyone's voice; I want to hear everyone's song and story.
The great spur for me in making the SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage is a yearning and call that never went away - to sing out and to tell my story. This blogpost is yet another attempt. Among those who know my story of having searched for my voice for decades, I find more and more are seeking and finding their own voices. "You may not know the impact you're having," one person told me, "but because of what you're doing, I found my voice today."
I'm not interested in spectatorship. We've lived too long listening to other people's songs and forsaken our own. SingPeace! is a collaborative effort to reawaken and rejoice in each other's song.
You can see from the Yoga Lodge photo albums that we hosted a small but enthusiastic crowd both days. I saw sheer delight in their eyes as we sang together on Saturday night. At the end of the evening, we showed clips from the Sacred Music Festival from Fes, Morocco. Sunday got a lazy start, but Mick Dodge enlivened the afternoon miming a computer "powerpoint" presentation. Half of the group stayed inside to sing while the other barefoot bunch followed Mick outside for Earth Gym practices with sticks, stones and tree weaving. I got a chance to do a little of both, hanging upside down from a tree for the first time! Thanks to Marianne Aylmer, who was along to help, I made a safe, if somewhat ungracious, descent. A less happy fate fell to 4-year-old Everest, who in the photo is seen flipping and rubbing his noggin.
I haven't said much about the gypsy wagon. There was a moment on Saturday afternoon, as we were setting up, that I pulled out my guitar and sang a blessing I'd learned in India. Laurence happened along with his drum. A few others were about. I watched Mick do a little celtic whirl as he danced down the path. Over the course of the weekend, the wagon was explored and crawled about by all in attendance, with much appreciation for the craftsmanship, beauty and sheer fun of it.
I haven't yet mentioned Kevin Rio Kipur who offered to haul the wagon with his 4-wheel truck. Rio is the perfect driver, experienced and fun. He throws his arm out the window, his fingers forming the victory sign, shouting, "Peace!" More about Rio in a later post, but you'll see him in the photos with the kids and his dog.
At the end of the second day, it took a while for our band to gather together, but we caravanned in the late afternoon into the center of town in Freeland, sang a few songs, met some old friends, and gave some tours of the gypsy wagon. Then, we drove into Langley, the sweetest little seaport town on Puget Sound. By now, it was getting late and cold. There was no legal way to park, so we pulled up in an intersection. While Rio kept his eyes out for the sheriff (he's been arrested in Langley for skateboarding on the street), the songs of Sara, Rob, Laurence and Deborah attracted a small group of tourists from India who ran over to us and began dancing around the gypsy wagon. They had a quick tour as we shared some memories of Mumbai and the Indian state of Maharashtra. Then, we were off!
The last feat of the evening was Rio's skillful hauling and unhitching of the gypsy wagon - in the dark - at my home. In all of the months of building, I'd never once imagined this moment. I live at the foot of a very steep hill. I had no plans to bring the wagon to my house. I had no plan for it anywhere on Whidbey Island! In my mind's eye, it and I would always be on the road.
Not so fast. The dream is one thing; the physical reality of having this wagon, what to do with it and how to do it is a different matter entirely. Every day reminds me of that. This is another wake up call - one that I hear and am responding to. I'm finding the courage and stamina to take the next step and the next as the vision moves from dream to actuality.
More to come in further posts, but let me not forget to thank you, all of you, who are participating in this SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony. I am much humbled and very grateful for your presence. The journey is ours; we make it together. Bless you.
Sunday, 06/26/2011
Peacemaker, singers will meet for week at Whidbey Institute
Singer/Songwriters, Sharon Abreu & Mike Hurwicz, will be "in residence" at the BePeace Course Retreat, Whidbey Institute, August 1-4.
Songweavers Aimee Kelley-Spencer, Laurence Cole and Aimee Ringle walk the road toward peace with the SingPeace! Earth
By PATRICIA DUFF
South Whidbey Record Arts & Entertainment, Island Life
Jun 21 2011, 4:02 PM · UPDATED
She looked around to see where in the world an army didn’t exist.
It was Costa Rica. So that’s where American peacemaker Rita Marie Johnson settled down 15 years ago to begin her quest to change the world.
Johnson is the director of the Rasur Foundation International and the founder of the Academy for Peace for which she developed the “BePeace Foundations Course.” She brings her teachings to Whidbey Island for a retreat at the Whidbey Institute at Chinook from July 31 through Aug. 4.
One of the program hosts, SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace & Global Harmony founder and island resident Pushkara Sally Ashford said the program seeks sponsorships in order to send local teachers and community members to the BePeace Foundations Course at the institute’s Clinton campus.
The program has been taught widely in schools in Costa Rica since 2004 and is now moving into the United States. Rasur Foundation International aims to train educators in the BePeace method who, in turn, can train other teachers, students and parents in their local communities. The BePeace Course strives to equip people to use skills to resolve conflicts in a non-violent manner, while also providing life skills for making positive choices in general.
In Costa Rica, Johnson was able to influence lawmakers to establish the Ministry for Justice and Peace.
Also, since returning to the United States in 2009, she has taught at the National Academy for Peace in Shelburne, Vt. and in other locations around the country, including a model school program in Denton, Texas. The course in August will be the first in the Northwest region.
Ashford is excited by the prospect of creating a “BePeace” community on Whidbey Island.
“SingPeace! co-coordinator Julie Vosoba and I took the course with Rita Marie Johnson in Santa Cruz in April,” Ashford said.
The two singers have been spreading the word about the Whidbey Institute course ever since and stressed the celebratory component of SingPeace! that includes their fellow singer-songweavers who will share the experience at the institute. To that end, they have planned a pre-retreat meeting at Unity Church in Langley so folks can acquaint themselves with the practices of the BePeace program.
The meeting is from 7:30 to 9 p.m., Tuesday, June 28 at the church at 5671 Crawford Road. The goal is to eventually hold an ongoing series of classes designed for adults, families and children.
“Long-term, we plan to form a BePeace hub here on Whidbey that will ripple the methods for feeling, speaking, teaching and singing peace out into the community,” Ashford said.
It is not an unlikely vision as Johnson’s methods are meant to resonate with people from all walks of life and all ages.
The practice combines a scientifically proven method for “feeling peace” with a clear path for “speaking peace” that creates a compassionate connection to other people. The idea is a sort of “pay-it-forward” model, creating a continuum of non-violent behavior from one person to the next. Johnson says there are two skills that are essential for achieving a nonviolent way of life. One is an emotional skill, “feeling peace,” defined as the ability to remain peaceful under stress.
The other is a social skill, “speaking peace,” which is the ability to communicate empathically and honestly to others.
“Peace infrastructure is a new concept,” Johnson said.
“We have infrastructure for war — why wouldn’t we have infrastructure for peace? It’s so important to the well-being of our children.”
Her program has been extremely successful in Costa Rica. The Academy of Peace, where the program was first implemented, won the Changemakers Innovation Award: Building a More Ethical Society, and the Costa Rican Ministry of Education decided to implement BePeace in the national school system.
As an international peacemaker, Johnson has presented BePeace workshops in eight states and in Canada, Europe and Central America and at the United Nations University for Peace. In 2006, she completed a speaking tour in Japan on Costa Rica as a model of peace and in 2007, she served on the plenary panel “Women of Power” at the International Women’s Peace Conference in Dallas. That same year she was the keynote speaker for the World Day of Prayer at Unity Village, Mo.
Johnson was also instrumental in creating the National Peace Academy of the USA at Case Western Reserve University, in Cleveland, Ohio.
Ashford, who built a SingPeace! caravan in which she lives when traveling to spread her musical message of peace, is excited by the prospect of leading the community on such a journey.
“It’s the nature of pilgrimage that you never know exactly where it will lead,” Ashford said.
“This one is a collaborative effort that has brought many elements; many ‘pieces of the peace’ together. BePeace is the latest addition to the journey and one that presents a clear path and steps toward peace,” she said.
The course is hosted by SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace & Global Harmony, the Whidbey Institute and Aldermarsh/Marsh House Retreat Center.
The Whidbey Institute BePeace Foundations Course is from 6:30 p.m. Sunday, July 31 to 5 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 4. An early registration discount of $100 is available before July 1. To register visit www.regonline.com/wi_bepeace or call 341-1884. The Whidbey Institute at Chinook is located at 6449 Old Pietila Road in Clinton.
1778 N. River Rd., Cosmopolis, WA
A teaching gathering for ceremonial/devotional singing circles, dancing, and music
We change the world as we transform ourselves with songs of light, love, peace on earth, and goodwill to all beings.
We change the world as we transform ourselves with songs of light, love, peace on earth, and goodwill to all beings.
What is Singing Alive?
Now in its 4rd year, Singing Alive is about bringing people together who feel called to awaken, and nuture their spiritual life thru communion with songs (and prayers, chants, blessings, and so om) of celebration of life in this benevolent universe. Such songs clarify our lives, strengthen our communities, and foster personal and planetary renewal. At Singing Alive we gather to share them, and ourselves, in a safe, welcoming environment. Our goal is to open hearts, and the songs are the keys. These songs are multi-cultural, coming to us from many eras and lands far and near.
Together they tell a perennial story, a Gaian dharma, so often forgotten, yet so joyfully remembered, of the Great work of spiritual evolution, of earth-conscious living and peaceful co-existence. By
singing this story we come home to Ourselves and perform the Dream of re-Creation we have so longed to live. Singing Alive is intended to hold space for this Dream to emerge and manifest, to give people the resources, and support for this initiatory transition we are ALL, consciously or not, with grace or in denial, going thru.
The old paradigms of domination, exploitation, and war are fitfully, yet inexorably, crumbling, and a new genre of songs have (re)emerged that reflect and celebrate the new paradigm of love, light, and the pursuit of blissful service to the world. By engaging our hearts in song, we help actualize this paradigm in ourselves and the collective. This is subtle activism, nourishment for a spiritually hungry world.
Our intent is to invite singers and musicians who can share songs of this genre, which work in the format of communal singing. This is not an entertainer / audience gathering; ‘rather it is a participatory event, a co-prayformance, where we all sing together, and work together to make this happen. Those who don’t think they can sing are encouraged to come and claim the birthright of a singing species!!
Teaching and Sharing Circles at Singing Alive
Voice & Breathwork
Dances of Universal Peace
Playing Musical Instruments
Bardic Legacies and Storytelling
Creating & Sharing Songbooks & Songbook
Art Whole-Group
Singing Circles & Small Song-Circles
Midwiving New Languages & Reclaiming the Ancient Ones
Song Traditions (Song Tribes) Rainbow, African, Shamanic, Daime, Orisha, Osho, Native American, Amma, Sufi, Gospel, Kirtan, and omward . . .
Song Themes and Invocations
World Peace, God/Goddess Exaltations, the Elements, Fairies & Devas,
Blessings, Gratitude, Grief & Praise, Planetary Acupuncture, Human Flowering, Children Circles,
Harmonic Toning, & Song On
Voice & Breathwork
Dances of Universal Peace
Playing Musical Instruments
Bardic Legacies and Storytelling
Creating & Sharing Songbooks & Songbook
Art Whole-Group
Singing Circles & Small Song-Circles
Midwiving New Languages & Reclaiming the Ancient Ones
Song Traditions (Song Tribes) Rainbow, African, Shamanic, Daime, Orisha, Osho, Native American, Amma, Sufi, Gospel, Kirtan, and omward . . .
Song Themes and Invocations
World Peace, God/Goddess Exaltations, the Elements, Fairies & Devas,
Blessings, Gratitude, Grief & Praise, Planetary Acupuncture, Human Flowering, Children Circles,
Harmonic Toning, & Song On
This gathering was conceived on July 16, 2005 by Michael Pilarski (Skeeter) & Morgan Brent (M.T. Xen). Skeeter is a wildcrafter and gardener, permaculturalist, educator, and the founder of many
gatherings, such as the Okanagon Barter Faire, the Northwest Herbal Faire, and the Human & Fairy Relations Congress. M.T. is an educator, organizer and song enthusiast who specializes in
prescriptive teachings of medicinal plants (Nature’s plan to save humans). He shares these teachings through Creation-story style sacred song circles.
What is the key to untie the knot of the mind’s suffering?
Benevolent thought, sound, and movement.
The Gft, 14th-century Sufi poet Hafiz
Trio Nouveau
http://www.kristio.com/music-trio-nouveau.html
DjangoFest NW 2010
A production of Whidbey Island Center for the Arts
Sept. 22-26
"Songs for a Culture of Peace," gypsy music, a musical puppet show and Earth Gym shenanigans.
SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony gypsy wagon joins the Djangofest, gathering musicians and singer/songweavers for a truly amazing world community gathering.
Nymbol's Secret Garden, a fanciful puppet and costume crafting shop welcomes SingPeace! to the heart of Langley. Look for the wagon on the grass next to Langley City Hall, across from the post office.
Performing at WICA:
"Songs for a Culture of Peace," gypsy music, a musical puppet show and Earth Gym shenanigans.
SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony gypsy wagon joins the Djangofest, gathering musicians and singer/songweavers for a truly amazing world community gathering.
Nymbol's Secret Garden, a fanciful puppet and costume crafting shop welcomes SingPeace! to the heart of Langley. Look for the wagon on the grass next to Langley City Hall, across from the post office.
Performing at WICA:
Angelo Debarre Quartet with Ludovic Beier
The manouche musician Angelo Debarre
started playing the guitar within his family at eight. After early
professional beginnings, he swapped strings for drums. In 1984, he returned to its favorite instrument and creates his first “Angelo Jazz Quintet”. Since 1985, he has been a regular of the famous Parisian cabaret "La Roue Fleurie" (now closed) and takes part in many tours in manouche jazz and Gipsy styles. He feels quite comfortable in both repertories, and before long he has played alongside Pedro Ivanovitch,
Arbat, Raya, Serge Camps, Bratsch as of Boyan Zulfikarpasic, Xavier Desandre-Navarre, Florin Nicolescu or Moréno, Bireli Lagrene, Jimmy Rosenberg, Romane…
Indisputably a member of the growing family of Django's
heirs, Angelo developed a solid personality. His style, fueled by a staggering technique, is constantly enriching with musical encounters, in the finest Gipsy tradition Angelo's music and personality conquered our Canadian cousins: they bought the rights to Caprice – which may be eventually marketed the way it deserves; are cooking up a new CD recorded on the spot with accompanist Matcho Winterstein; and have been providing him with numerous venues since the Summer of 2000... more.
A jazz musician at heart since his early childhood in Auvers-sur-Oise, Ludovic Beier is a fan of the West Coast sound. As a child, he discovered his idols (Chick Corea, George Duke, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, George Benson…) who influenced him during the years of its musical education. He started to compose very young, studding his albums with some of his own themes, from ballads to be-bop…
During a concert in Washington in November 2002, a journalist presented Ludovic Beier in these terms: "Since the arrival of
Ludovic Beier's accordion on the musical scene in France, we can proudly say that this instrument is not dead and, on the contrary, enjoys a certain revival. Ludovic Beier belongs to the eager cognoscenti who are always out to try out new sounds and techniques. Not only does he compose, write and arrange, but he also is at basis of the revival of accordion: jazz, West Coast music are new directions taken by this instrument, but always rooted in the French heritage, in his skillful hands."... more.
Paulus Schäfer with Tim Kliphuis
Paulus Schäfer (born 1978) is one of the most talented Gypsy Jazz guitarists from The Netherlands today. Born into a Dutch Sinti (Gypsy) community he learned to play the guitar at a very
early age. Besides listening to fellow Sinti and records of his idol Django Reinhardt, it were Wasso Grünholz - a legend of his own within the community - and his nephew Stochelo Rosenberg from whom he learned the most. After a short period of time, in which Paulus briefly took over the lead guitar of Jimmy Rosenberg in the Gipsy Kids, he formed his own group and recorded his debut album “Into the Light” in 2002,
followed by many concerts and numerous – headlining - invitations to jazz festivals: Sziget Festival Budapest (H), Khamoro Prague (CZ), IGGF Gossington (UK), Django Reinhardt Festival Samois-sur-Seine (FR), Gipsy Festival Anger (FR), International Gipsyfestival (NL), Amersfoort Jazz
(NL), Haarlem Jazz (NL), Folkwoods Festival (NL) to name a few.
Being a musician in high demand, Paulus is often to be found on stage with other musicians, like The Rosenberg Trio, Tim Kliphuis, Prisor Jazz Band, Andreas Öberg, Jimmy Rosenberg and can be found on many albums. He also recorded two more albums with his own group in 2006, ‘Desert Fire’
and ‘Live at the NWE Vorst’ with the Paulus Schäfer Gipsy Band and The Tilburg Big Band. Paulus has a particular sound, easy recognised, and although all Paulus’ albums are true to a distinctive Gipsy Jazz/Swing sound, Paulus is always looking for a new modern sound. Not only to broaden his own horizons, but also a more representative Gipsy Jazz sound for the 21st century. New releases are already scheduled for 2010.
Discography:
“Into The Light” (2002, w/ Paulus Schäfer Gipsy Band) “Desert Fire” (2006, w/ Paulus Schäfer Gipsy Band) “Live at the NWE
Vorst (2006, w/ Paulus Schäfer Gipsy Band and Tilburg Big Band)
Dutchman Tim Kliphuis is one of the top jazz fiddlers in the world, and has been dubbed Stéphane Grappelli's successor. After his long-standing collaboration with gypsy guitar legend Fapy Lafertin, he worked with Angelo Debarre, Stochelo Rosenberg, RIchard Galliano and many others.
A soloist in his own right since 2004, Tim now has a reputation which transcends the Gypsy Jazz scene. His trademark mix of
Jazz, Classical, Folk and World music has taken him all over the world.
An acclaimed tutor in Grappelli's Jazz Violin style, Tim has released best-selling tuition book "Stéphane Grappelli Gypsy
Jazz Violin" with Mel Bay and 2 Hot Jazz Violin DVDs with HyperHip Media... more.
John Jorgenson Quintet
John Jorgenson Quintet - bio coming soon
Howard Alden with Bucky Pizzarelli and Bria Skonberg
Howard Alden - bio coming soon
John Paul Bucky Pizzarelli is an American Jazz
guitarist and banjoist, and the father of jazz guitarist John
Pizzarelli. Pizzarelli has also worked for NBC as a staffman for Dick Cavett (1971) and also ABC with Bobby Rosengarden in (1952). The list of musicians Pizzarelli has collaborated with over his career includes Les Paul, Stephane Grappelli, and Benny Goodman. Pizzarelli acknowledges Django Reinhardt, Freddie Green, and George Van Eps for their influences on his style and mode of play... more.
At age 26, jazz trumpeter and vocalist Bria Skonberg
has been performing on stage for over 20 years. Originally from Chilliwack, BC, she now resides in Vancouver where she has completed a Degree in Jazz Performance from Capilano University. Since getting into jazz ten years ago Bria has been featured as a bandleader and guest artist all over North America, Europe, China and Japan playing alongside
such greats as Warren and Allan Vache, Bucky Pizzarelli and Howard Alden. In July of 2009 she was one of four performers selected for an International Young Artists’ Showcase at the Jazz a Juan Festival in Antibes, France. She has been the recipient of the CBC Jazz Award of Merit (2006), and the Kobe Jazz Street Friendship Award given at the Breda Jazz Festival in Holland in 2007. Early in 2008 Bria was a guest on Riverwalk Jazz with the Jim Cullum Jazz Band representing the “Next Generation of Jazz”. In Vancouver she leads and manages Bria’s Hot Five and The Big Bang Jazz Band,
and performs as a soloist and vocalist with Canadian icon Dal Richards and his Orchestra both live and on his last two albums. She is a co-founder of the groundbreaking all female jazz group, Mighty Aphrodite, comprised of members from the US and Canada. In 2009 Bria released her first solo album Fresh that features original songs and arrangements of jazz and mainstream standards. She is an active advocate for young musicians, working as a teacher/alumni at the Sacramento Jazz Camp and Camp Heebie Jeebies in Port Angeles, as well as programming, narrating and performing
educational school shows for students ranging from Kindergarten to College. Intent on giving back, she is also active on the Board of Directors for the annual Chilliwack Jazz Festival... more.
Hot Club of Detroit
More than seven decades after the innovations of the Quintette du Hot Club de France, featuring guitar virtuoso Django Reinhardt, combos called Hot Clubs carry on the gypsy jazz sound around the globe -- in Tokyo, San Francisco, Seattle, Sweden, Norway, Austria, and many other locales. None, however, offers a fresher take on the tradition than does the Hot Club of Detroit, led by fast-fingered Reinhardt disciple Evan Perri. Unlike the instrumentation of original Paris-based quintet, comprising Reinhardt, violinist Stephane Grappelli, two rhythm guitarists, and a bassist, the current Hot Club of Detroit is made of guitarist Perri, accordionist Julien Labro, soprano and tenor saxophonist Carl Cafagna, rhythm guitarist Paul Brady and bassist Andrew Kratzat. The fibrous accordion tones of Labro, a native of Marseilles, France, links the Detroit quintet to the French musette style from which gypsy jazz
partially sprung, while Cafagna’s robust saxophone work introduces bop and post-bop elements to gypsy jazz... more.
Pearl Django
Entering their sixteenth year of performing Pearl Django continues to be one of America’s most respected and busiest Hot Club style groups. Though still strongly influenced by the music of Django Reinhardt, Pearl Django’s repertoire now includes many original compositions. Their music reaches out across the divides of taste to a wide variety of audiences. The band's fervent followers include Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli fans, guitar enthusiasts (and guitarists!), lovers of string music, including bluegrass devotees, who
relish nimble, clean, intricate picking, "world music" fans drawn to French and Gypsy accents, plus jazz buffs and aficionados of the new swing music. Transcending simple categorization, Pearl Django packs in enthusiastic audiences at dancehalls and nightclubs, at folk music festivals and jazz festivals alike... more.
Troy Chapman, Guitar; Ryan Hoffman, Guitar; David Lange, Accordion; Michael Gray, Violin; Rick Leppanen, Bass
Robin Nolan Trio
Robin Nolan Trio - bio coming soon
Gonzalo Bergara Quartet
Gonzalo Bergara Quartet - bio coming soon
Kruno with Ludovic Beier
Kruno - bio coming soon
Alfonso Ponticelli and Swing Gitan
Alfonso Ponticelli and Swin Gitan - bio coming soon
Caravan - Marc Atkinson Trio with Daniel Lapp
Marc Atkinson Trio - bio coming soon
Van Django
Van Django is an acoustic string ensemble made up of four of Canada's most talented and eclectic musicians; violinist Cameron Wilson, guitarist Budge Schachte, guitarist/cellist Finn Manniche and bassist Brent Gubbels. Van Django's music is punchy, driving and rhythmically inventive,
combining a wealth of musical influences while maintaining their roots in the gypsy jazz made famous by the 1930's Quintet of the Hot Club of France. Since the group’s formation in 1998, they have toured extensively in Canada as well as international forays to the USA and Europe. The group has had repeat performances at Djangofest Northwest
(DFNW) where in 2008 they shared a double bill concert with the John Jorgenson Quintet and in 2009 they opened for the legendary gypsy jazz guitarist Romane and his group. They look forward to a return visit this year (2010) to DFNW for a double bill concert with the Mark Atkinson trio. Van Django is slated for their second European tour in early September of this year (2010)... more.
Hot Club Sandwich
Hot Club Sandwich - bio coming soon
Billet-Deux
Billet-Deux - bio coming soon
Douce Ambience
Douce Ambience - bio coming soon
Doug Martin Avatar Ensemble with Annie Staninec
Doug Martin Avatar Ensemble - bio coming soon
Nick Lehr Quartet featuring David Seriff
Nick Lehr - bio coming soon
The Festival Staff.
Nicholas Lehr, Artistic Director; Stacie Burgua, Executive Director; Deana Duncan, Production Director; Jason Dittmer, Director of Marketing; Tyler Raymond, Technical Director; Jeanette Eveland, Volunteer Coordinator; Ann Deacon, Facilities Manager; Dorothy Ferguson, Shirley McClure, Karen McInerney, Linda O'Brochta, House Managers
Steve Habersetzer is busy at work on a gypsy wagon, trying to get the exterior finished in time for the Fourth Annual Woodworkers Show, Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 7-8, 2009 at the American Legion Hall in downtown Port Townsend.
This wagon is a special commission by Whidbey Island resident, Pushkara Sally Ashford, who is putting it into service for "SingPeace! Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony." Ashford plans to travel around the United States and Canada with a group of troubadours, gathering communities together to sing and talk about peace.
"I've been surprised and delighted to witness the pilgrimage taking shape and building momentum," says Ashford. "We've recently been invited to take 'songs for a culture of peace' into schools as part of the curriculum. Over the coming months, we will be going in the gypsy wagon from neighborhood to neighborhood, town to town, sharing this repertoire with choruses, choirs, song circles, and at festivals, camps and retreats."
The first few months of the journey, SingPeace! will culminate in an appearance at the 2010 Northwest Regional Folklife Festival in Seattle in May 2010.
Ashford designed the 14-foot-long, 8-foot-wide living space during a course at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking, "How to Build a Gypsy Wagon," taught by Jim Tolpin and Habersetzer. The wagon will soon have modern "green" amenities, such as a marine composting toilet, an on demand propane water heater and a solar electric panel for the 12-volt electric system. It will soon have a galley and tiny hearth, as well. "It's essentially like a boat that goes down the highway," Habersetzer says.
Steve Habersetzer uses hand tools to cut the shallow rectangular void where the hinge will rest for the door on a cabinet he's making. "This is more traditional woodwork," he says. "A lot of people would use a router to do this. This is more fun and not as loud. Once you learn how to do it, it's probably just as fast."
Habersetzer knows well the life in a gypsy wagon. At one time, he lived in one himself. That one, he says, was only 6 feet wide. He built his first gypsy wagon, or "vardo," 25 years ago, and several have followed. All of them are designed to suit the owner's fancy - whether for living, playing or working.
Inspired by horse-drawn carts used by the English Romano people, this wagon is a "ledge" design, which includes a small extension on each side, supported by hand-painted wooden brackets, and a small porch on the back. Other vardo types are called the Burton, reading, bow top, open and brush, and they all function as traveling living spaces.
This is the most collaborative wagon project Habersetzer has created. Ashford has recruited other area artisans to take part. The decorative woodcarving is done by Laurence Cole, and Jeanne Moore of Northwest Potpourri and Susan Leinbach, another local seamstress, are at work on the upholstery and interior furnishings. The stained and etched glass is created by Everett artist Stan Case, and Don Tiller is in charge of the decorative painting.
The SingPeace! wagon is on view outside of the Pope Marine Park Building throughout the Port Townsend Woodworkers Show. A SingPeace! gathering takes place at 8:30 p.m. on Saturday, Nov. 7, following PT Shorts. Songweaver and director of PT Songlines Laurence Cole - along with visiting song leaders Sara Tone from Olympia and Rob Tobias from
Eugene, Ore. - gather to lead participatory singing on Saturday from 1 to 3 p.m. and again from 6 to 7 p.m. The singers will be on hand again on Sunday from 1-3 p.m.
* http://www.ptleader.com/main.asp?SectionID=101&SubSectionID=471&ArticleID=25583&TM=33184.13
Many native traditions held clowns and tricksters as essential to any contact with the sacred. People could not pray until they had laughed, because laughter opens and frees us from rigid preconception. Humans had to have tricksters within the most sacred ceremonies lest they forget the sacred comes through upset, reversal, surprise. The trickster in most native traditions is essential to creation, to birth.
Byrd Gibbens
I not only want to describe the imagination figured in the trickster myth, I want to argue a paradox that the myth asserts: that the origins, liveliness, and durability of cultures require that there be space for figures whose function is to uncover and disrupt the very things that cultures are based on.
Trickster Makes This World: How Disruptive Imagination Creates Culture
Lewis Hyde
Without the laugh, there is no Tao.
Lao-tzu
In 2006, former Vice President Al Gore gave us some compelling language with his landmark presentation, An Inconvenient Truth. As we all know, this was the centerpiece in his campaign to educate citizens about global climate change. The documentary was a critical and box-office success, winning an Academy Award for best documentary feature. It has had a powerful impact all around the world.
The central message in Inconvenient Truth was troubling enough in its own right, but becomes even more so when we realize that climate change is only one planetary-scale inconvenience looming over our heads. The expanded list is both grim and familiar: population growth, habitat destruction, species extinctions, water shortages, topsoil erosion, destruction of fisheries and rainforests, social injustice and expanding militarization. All are threatening and all are growing with each passing day. And so, given the long list of afflictions that we now face, the documentary of our times really needs to be called Inconvenient Truths.
activists and revolutionaries
Gore laid down the challenge, but it is up to us to take it to the next level. His title suggests a strategy and an attitude: in a world of inconvenient truths, what we need more than anything else are inconvenient people. Inconvenient people are those who are willing to step up and challenge the dominant cultural paradigm that supports ill health, environmental destruction and social injustice. Inconvenient people ask hard questions and tell hard truths. Inconvenient people are not content to receive their culture passively and without dissent. Inconvenient people speak, create and act.
There are several varieties of inconvenient people in our midst. The first are known as activists. These people set up non-profits, sign a board of directors, raise money and start a campaign. Much of their work consists of signing up volunteers to do research, lobby and persuade, and to raise more money. Activists may be inconvenient thorns in the side of established powers, but they are generally polite. They work hard, but their progress tends to be incremental. Over time, many activists become “grinders,” working immense number of hours, dedicated to the cause, fighting over detail, policy and procedure. Victories, when they come, are important, but rarely spectacular.
The activist’s work is honorable and must be done, but it’s also a sad fact that the activist’s labor is often ineffective. The power structure is stacked against change and non-profits are in a weak position to make things happen. Unfortunately, “dot org” is often synonymous with “weak, powerless and irrelevant.”
When activists and non-profits run out of steam, some of us become frustrated and call for a more active form of activism. We come to the conclusion that what we really need not activists but revolutionaries.
Revolutionaries are people who are willing to stand directly in the path of social injustice and environmental madness. They take on high levels of personal risk and challenge established hierarchies with direct language and in-your-face action. Revolutionaries are not patient people. In fact, they are extremely inconvenient.
Given the state of our predicament, this form of action is both appropriate and vital. Revolutionaries are essential; their work is often inspiring and meaningful. Nevertheless, there is danger here: by the time passions get to this level, revolutionaries sometimes cross the tipping point into extremist ideology, felony offenses and in a paradoxical turn, ineffectiveness. Being a strident, passionate and in-your-face revolutionary is great–when it works. But entrenched powers police their territories with great vigilance and are well-equipped to stamp out revolutionary ideas and revolutionaries themselves.
Revolution, especially in a paranoid, post-911 world, is an extremely high-risk proposition and the consequences of miscalculation are immense. Revolutionaries run the risk of hard time and in turn, the abrupt termination of their activism. You won’t be much good to anyone if you’re doing 10 to 20 in an orange jump suit. Suddenly, you’re no longer inconvenient; you’re just a statistic.
There is another option here, of course and that’s to make a distinction between overt and covert rebellion. The overt revolutionary challenges power directly: he chains himself to the bulldozer or sets up camp in trees that are slated for logging. He sinks whaling ships and pulls up survey stakes. He talks loudly and carries a big monkeywrench.
The covert rebel meanwhile, turns his efforts inward and makes a personal statement to the world at large. In this style, health itself becomes an act of rebellion. In a culture that drives people relentlessly towards mindless destruction of nearly everything, physical vitality included, personal health stands out as a glaring act of defiance. “I am an animal and I will not submit to a media-driven culture of passive consumerism. I am an animal and I will not waste my health in the service of environmental and social destruction. I am an animal and I will not lie down while we destroy the last living shreds of the biosphere.”
This approach adds an entirely new dimension to our study of healthy living. What is normally cast as a mainstream, harmless and thoroughly bland lifestyle practice now becomes a potently disruptive force. In this light, health has nothing to do with longevity, smooth skin and tight abs. Instead, it’s about living in protest and derailing the pathologies of a earth-hostile culture. In this context, health is no longer neutral or safe. Rather, it is a statement of rebellion.
tricksters
Of course, activists and revolutionaries are not the only players in our game of personal and planetary transformation. There are other ways that we might craft effective, inconvenient and meaningful lives. One of the most promising, I believe, lies in the path of the trickster.
The trickster has played a role in almost every culture; the archetype is almost certainly a human universal. He or she appears in thousands of stories with various roles: he scandalizes, disgusts, amuses, disrupts, chastises, and humiliates yet he is also a creative force transforming the world, sometimes in bizarre and outrageous ways, with his instinctive energies and cunning. In Native American culture, coyote plays the trickster and is known for his inventiveness, mischievousness, and evasiveness. He is a practical joker, always playing with meaning, assumptions, prejudices, roles, hierarchies and power relationships.
In our modern world, many of us would describe the trickster as a “cultural creative.” This is a person who refutes the standard narrative, pounded into our heads by our so-called “educational system,” that culture is a static thing, carved into stone by the ancients. She rejects the assumption that culture is a thing to be received and replicated, but not questioned and certainly not transformed.
Many people are content to simply accept and receive the culture that is handed to them. And so, they spend their lives in dutiful replication of cultural memes, photocopying the rituals of former generations onto their offspring. The trickster on the other hand, sees culture as a canvas, a lump of clay, a process to play with. Think of the raw material! So many memes to work with! Ideas, stories, song, books, movies, theatre, language: all ripe for recombination, revision and regeneration.
Fundamentally, the trickster is a questioner. She questions authority, expertise, power structures, culture and of course, herself. She question categories and assumptions about what is possible. She questions the status quo and business as usual. She won’t sit still when told that something is impossible or that transformation “just isn’t realistic.” Instead, she is always ready with the question “Why?” and “Why not?”
Above all, the trickster is an athletic multi-disciplinarian who refuses to get bogged down into any one camp, box or pigeon hole. Her identity is fluid and her interests dynamic. Never one to get trapped in a single point of view or a single field of inquiry, the trickster always has one foot…somewhere else. Both a bridge-builder and a destroyer of bridges, her philosophy is dynamic and holistic. She pulls us out of our entrenched, boring, specializations and gives us a glimpse of a world of connection and relationship.
Tricksters do their work on several scales, from the audacious to the microscopic. You might see them hanging banners on large buildings or painting a “crack” on the face of the Glen Canyon Dam. You might hear about them dressing up as trees and animals at corporate shareholder meetings. You might read about them bidding up the action at government timber-sale auctions, buying up land to protect it. And you might see their subvertising in print and on billboards: corporate memes visually altered to reveal alternative meanings.
This is all honorable work; it is highly visible trickery in action. But small-scale trickery is vital as well. A good trickster is an opportunist who looks for any chance to transform a dead meme or attitude into something more life-promoting. A conversational trickster can transform a simple phrase and bring new meaning to mundane moments of life; these “tricks” may be invisible to almost everyone, but their power can be immense.
In philosophy and action, the trickster strikes a delicate balance of gravity and levity. She has no illusions about the severity of today’s challenges, but refuses to be crushed under their weight. She is not naïve; she understands the state of the biosphere and the challenge to the future. But she also knows the danger of self-absorption and chronic seriousness. Yes, the situation is dire. Yes, the dangers are immense. And yes, the amount of suffering in this world staggers the imagination.
But none of this stands as reason for abandoning our exuberance or our vitality. On the contrary, it stands as reason for redoubling our enthusiasms, our humor and our levity. Our exuberance is the source of our creativity and in turn, our effectiveness. When faced with immense and compelling challenge, we need more of this joyful living, not less. And so the trickster keeps a balance: the greater the gravity, the more she dances, laughs and plays. The more she feeds her body and spirit with joy, the more she can bring to the predicament at hand.
And so we begin to see the immense and surprising power in trickery. Even if it “fails” in the grand scope of activism and planetary-scale transformation, it still succeeds in giving life to the trickster herself and those around her. Even if completely ineffective on one level, it can still succeed on another. If all trickery does is to maintain the outrageous health and exuberance of the trickster, then that may be enough. And, one never knows how far the ripples of trickery might extend. One good trick tends to inspire more of the same.
look at this!
Ultimately, tricksters are visionaries and senseis. They have journeyed the land of the ordinary and quested to the distant horizon. They have traveled far and thus they see ahead. And because they see ahead, they are in a position to direct and shape our attention. They bear witness to the dangers and challenges of our time. They draw attention away from the familiar, the conventional and the habitual. They show us alternatives. They point to human vitality. They point to the human bond with habitat, the land, the animals and the earth. They point to joy and love.
If you can see the way, become a trickster.
If you can’t, seek out a wise trickster and look where she’s pointing. Follow the trick and you’ll find the path.
