諺語.

"The person who says it cannot be done
should not interrupt the person doing it."

- Chinese Proverb 諺語

Linear Waters.

Enveloped in the art... Pencil, erase, linear, with pen. A new technique. Wavy lines at different intervals, creating the picture of flowing water from a maiden's thigh. Squiggle to a small point where the waves rippled against the rock she was sitting upon. These lines had draped her hair around her naked shoulders. Poised in her endless position, I was poised in pencil to creation. Transforming every line in a single stream of fluent motion, suddenly to be interupted by a familiar hand stopping my arm from continuing. You looked down at my artwork as you gradually sat down across the old wooden table from me. Your face had not once looked up from the piece I had been working on, as if inquiring in depths unkown. Your hand never leaving my arm, but traveling downward to take my hand in yours. I studied you and your actions and at the final moment lifted my head to aknowledge you. Eyes locked and without a sound, years of recollection and shared knowledge flooded me. Those faniliar eyes of penetrating grey... Grey as if the lines of my artwork, the lines enveloping the maiden as that of the sea.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQYpF2pCkLI
(My Body - Young The Giant)

The Artifact.

I tried to stay there a little longer... but I recognized that my body's functions had awakened. Yet my concious mind wished to linger. My fleeting dream... I saw our distant world from above and was astonished at how much junk was poluting the exosphere in their determined orbited path. My friend beside me, on the outlook of the starship, had neatly explained how the downfall of man and the planet was not sped up by internal effects. But that of the bee hive technology that now sat as a substitute for what once was our outer atmosphere. Thus changing the natural laws in place that govern all the cycles.

I am awake now and contemplating today's tales based on religion, culture, and even history. The keepers of this information have spoken it along down the lines for generations. I recall as a young girl one story in particular...


The sky of the entire planet was lit up with lights that were of lightning, heat lightning, meteors, and ball lightning. The ancient peoples associated this with the gods. The gods Mars, Mercury, Neptune, Jupiter, Venus were in great disbute which lead to the involvement of Lei Gong, Indra, Thor, Hadad, Set, and countless others battling out with their preferred weapon of choice. As the outer rims of habitible hemisphere were penetrated by force, the suffering was great. Not only for the gods, but the inhabitants below. Æther swallowed bolts that they sent back and forth in protection for those below. Terra was left unharmed, but her son was not so fortunate. The pivitol point in defeat was the death of Oceanus. Gaia was the battle's ground, that to be won for her powers and chthonic power so that the immortals could use her strength. Uranus knew the plot and tried to prevent it in and amongst Apollo and the others. In turn he lost his son. With the wanton death of offspring, which was not the initial start seeded in greed, Chronos stepped in and gave the final countdown. The laws that were so utterly disturbed, would in turn lead to the demise of all living in, on, and around the planet.


The stories have filled our ears through all our years, and Æther is still our protective layering. The planet has rebuilt itself from the defeats in battle. There are countless tales, and some have been long forgotten. But these tales are that of bedtime stories, are they not? Stories of ancient peoples based on relics we have tried to put meaning to.

I had taken something with me to my home from the Vault, packed safely in a special made steel case. Appropriately named after The Scientist's favorite animal, I assume he designed its protective features.


I jumped out of bed, wrapped my silk robe around my naked body and headed to the safe in which was locked down through a multitude of gadgetry. I went to the study, and like the common disguise, removed the Sir William Waterhouse painting from the wall. There lie a simple looking safe, which appeared to be an inbuilt wall safe. The truth of the matter is no one has ever seen this type of handiwork and quite frankly it dizzies me just thinking about it. I turned the numbered knob to the correct numbers, which applied a mechanism of cogs to open the outer layer into which the wall was removed. From there I was presented with timeless pieces of clockwork which had to be alligned to the correct setting for the actual area the safe was located to be revealed. With the help of The Scientist, this was a nightmare of a task in creating and the precise tunning was incalculable. I could go further into detail as to what happens next, but as to ward off any would be thieves, I shall say no more in depth on the matter. The end of the concealed area does not even exist in the same plane, but that is now where I stood barefoot. I grabbed the Gator case and headed back a different way than I came.


Once back in the study, I placed the case on my rolltop desk. I worked through the lock system, that which Charlie had shown me. And like a pressurized dry ice capsule, the case opened. There was the artifact, completely preserved, brought out of the very ground the original vault was located. It was carbon dated before our time. The metal was out of this world, shiny and prestine. Its edges told the story of great destruction, as they were jagged and torn. It even appeared to have charred markings on it, as if it might have suffered immeasurable amounts of heat. The light of the desk lamp reflected off of it on one side and the other side appeared to have some sort of blue black gridding. In clear english next to the gridding, I looked at the words written in a crisp yellow color... It was inscribed Thor. Next to this remarkable notation was the same symbol that had been scribbled in the very pages of The Scientist's leatherback! I grabbed up his journal and scrolled through the pages until I found the symbol there. It was the exact same lightning bolt with yellow triangle.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsBewnXFwfo
(Satellite - Dave Matthews Band)

The Bardic Nature.

Looking back on the stories and even movies that include the born storyteller... the bard. Small truths within the words recreated over and over again. The form of history spoken. They were entrusted with the secrets. The secrets of how the world was, how the world will be. In fairytale, they hope to confer the past and bring a different future by making the present.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBxCl2TJNnQ
(The Bard's Song - Van Canto)

Circumfluous Art.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvtUt02zVAs

(Video - Ferrofluid Explanation)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=me5Zzm2TXh4
(Video - Morpho Towers: Sachiko Kodama, Yasushi Miyajima)

俳句.

Small wings passerby
Gaze continues onward there
Beams fall onto water.

Dancing With A Naked Butterfly.

I am 10 meters below the surface, and once again I feel that small trickle of failure as air begins to constantly accumulate in my mouth. I know this error and do not take it lightly in the 4 C water. I choose then not to go any deeper, retrace my swimming distance at a slow pace and breath. If I should go deeper, I can have a total freeze or free flow regulator. I take this chance as an opportunity to experience this under diving instead of taking my octopus ventilator to use. It does not hurt to practice and learn under different experiences. There could be a day that I have no choice - to be ready and know what will be experienced is better than not knowing.

Since this is governing my dive in a way I cannot control, I slowly make my way back to the landing zone. So slow, that seeing the life in between the rock surfaces and under sea fauna was the biggest pay off yet.

I was under several rock ledges and had the opportunity to see dead man's fingers growing on the underside. In addition, I found several brittle starfish camped out in little holes along the large stone surfaces. The tidal waves making the large sea grass glide to and fro, revealed different crab species milling about with their daily lives. There was even a fish who hung around checking me out in the distance.


As my regulator slowly turned to free flow, it was getting more difficult to breath. I had finished my three minute safety stop and signaled to my dive buddy I was cold and surfacing. I begin the ascent slowly, still looking around at the little creatures the oceans keep hidden. My buddy was on the landing zone, and I awaited my turn a couple feet below. Suddenly, I realized I had a very tiny visitor right in front of my masked view. It had a bright pink head and body, yet the rest of its physical makeup was translucent. It had wings that flew in the waters and two antennas that moved as if in communication. I could not see any eyes or orifices as this beautifully magnificent creature waved its delicate wings at me. I could feel that it was intelligent in a manner that it was just as amazed to see me, as I it. The Naked Sea Butterfly stayed right in view as it studied me and we danced with the surface waves. Then as quickly as it appeared, it vanished in between foam and current.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91Ar_mNVNLQ
(New Theory - Washed Out)

Impelled.

Lives of tragedy...

Compelled by thought...

Driven by words.

Answer Me.

Despite today's news, this happens periodically all over the entire world. If countries like Sweden, Norway, Britain, USA, amongst countless others are taking in "refugees" from warzones, then why are these "political asylum" persons blowing themselves and others up inside the country they have chosen refuge???? Why do they complain about where they are currently living and why do they not appreciate the rights they have been offered? Why do they create environments and living conditions no different from whence they came? They are given a chance. An opportunity to educate themselves, work, provide, and live in a safer - functioning society. If they have not figured it out in time, then mentality should be accessed for each person given this. It is possible they are not capable of such, as countless times prove just that. Maybe as a whole they have limited intellect?

The outside countries gave them chances, and they repay that with death and destruction. Can any one person answer me why?

It is clear to me that if another country attacks another, it is a declaration of war. Why doesn't any one country take the extremist groups seriously, and call it like it is - war????? The only response I have gotten to this question is that the groups under that title are living all around the world, so where would the countries attack at this declaration?

My next thought was... are the extremist parties too coward to come up and face their own declaration of war? If they declare these actions in the name of power, religion, world regime, whatever - then why are they not brave enough to face the front and not hide behind the countries who have given them freedom? I shake my head. If I were proud and fighting something for a cause, their are greater ways to do such - which include human rights (including their own).

(November 2010)

The Vault.

My feet touched ground mid morning, but you can't tell on account of the daylight. Everything is hazy, as it were the sun lingers right below the horizon. Only peeking a few hours of the day this time of year. I am used to the climate by now and prepared myself well with what I brought. Those movies about large fur lined parkas and snow goggles fit the picture. Without the goggles the wind chill factor would freeze your moist eyeballs. Not to mention what ice crystals feel like when forming in the inside of your nose. Fortunately today the breeze was warm-ward and just crisp seeping cold.

I met up with the guide, for the scientific group, that would take me across the white plains and to my destination... the vault. The ride over was in that of a high tech ice vehicle, conveniently warm and faster than a standard terrain snow vehicle or snow mobile.

I had arranged the visit the week before, and surprisingly found that they were honored to have me. I was greeted by a small staff of biologists and even an archaeologist. But it was the physicist, Charlie, who warmly hugged me and stated that he was sorry for the loss of my father and his good colleague. Intriguing... here was a world I had not even once been informed of. My father's life and work away from home, not to mention 78 degrees north.

I was taken to a dining salon to eat a meager fare with those who I had just met. Over coffee and the traditional dessert, I was briefed on the facility and its purposes. Accordingly, the chosen location of the Global Seed Vault (to house green specimens) was that of the cold, frigid, never changing arctic tundra. The archaeologist looked at me eagerly as if to say there was much more to it than that, but she only mentioned how there were STILL ongoing excavations under the very place where we ate.

In the course of my stay I would be educated by each member and their duty at the site. Tomorrow I would be in the care of Charlie, as he worked closely with my father, and that he would be explaining my dad's purpose in the whole project. After chit chat and laughs of the past, I took a walk around outside before I retired. No one can possibly describe what it feels like to stand underneath the aurora borealis, but I was fortunate to catch its raining stardust of chemicals on the very first evening I had arrived.


Evidently, during my birth year, my father was commissioned to create a lighting atmosphere to house the world's seeds. Nothing out of the norm there, aside from the project itself being monumental. What a landmark in someone's life to have been a part of! I looked at a few pictures of The Scientist along with Charlie and others that were no longer working the area.

I was also told how the original site underneath us was already developed when found. During land surveys and coring, the small team that was entrusted with this area discovered a profound archaeological find relating to our whole existence. It was the equivalent of Onkalo (the vault for radioactive waste), but we were its future. No wonder the archaeologist had a twinkle in her eye.

So I asked point blank putting 2 together, "The vault here was already in existence then?" Charlie nodded his head, but his stiffed curled mustache did not budge. My next thought and question was, "What was in the vault?" His reply was the same thing that is contained in there today, but our generations we added in the last 20 or so years. As always, answering one question in the world of science only leads to a new one.
"Is it man made?" He shrugged,
"That's partly why we are still here."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMOkORxF4JA
(1901 - Phoenix)

78.

Years ago... As an inventor and archeologist, The Scientist owned his very own library - minimal 500 books. On that day I was to sort out his possesions, I remembered thinking this is his legacy. I sat alone in his study full of dust and web, as the others could not understand why I wished to have the books. They could not possibly understand that all these manuscripts, old and new, were knowledge. It was quite a task set out in front of me, but at the same time it was getting to know the man himself better than I could of imagined.

The book shelves were white washed cinder blocks, with green painted planks to hold the weight. Additionally, the green carried over into vines that were painted in his very own robust strokes, which incompassed the stark white of the blocks. I would of taken the shelves, but the blocks are weight, yet the idea lingers to create such shelving once again.

Nearly a month had passed, and I had kept all the books that I wished. The others were sold or donated. Amongst the books, I was able to decide on other objects I wished to keep. Ah, there... on the top shelf of the stack closest to the paperwork excuse of a desk. Another hand painted item, a canvas of a lighthouse, oil possibly. I picked it up with both hands and gazed at its stark robust coloration. This is the way he saw things... as this was his creation by eye and hand. I turned it over to read any inscription and found that it was actually dedicated to me! The year being that which I had been born - 78, yet 6 months later. How interesting, that I had not known this or seen this picture before now.

The shelf below contained gadgetry and inventions, chocked full of lights and prototypes. But the very top shelf was stuffed full of spiral notebooks and notepads. I started to take a few out and scan them to see what the content was. They were stories of science, data, diagrams, fantasy, even submersible information. I was tickled to find his own handwriting on these projects. I thought that maybe one day I could publish something he had completed in honor. When i had pulled all the paper out and packed it away for shipping, I found one lone piece of paper, scribbled in his doctors script hand. It read, "Out of everything I have accomplished, how does one define the impossible? ". Beneath it and well hidden was that dusty leatherback. Possibly a compiled work of fiction, yet the diagrams and scientific background based on physics were staring me in the face - and as for the rest of it, I surely wished to find out.

I was so intrigued by this piece of work, whereas all the other items were just thrown together and in common writing devices, and most of his scientific lighting work was in one of his four computers. When I had gone through everything and prepared for my return with all of my momentos in tote or by post, I had not let that journal out of site. I even had it on the long plane flight back, where I could not keep my eyes off of its pages. Some places were clearly designated, locale and degree. I looked at all the derivatives of such information to see if any were close to my current home. Well, well, what do we have here at the very end of the journal... 78 degrees north. Further than the Arctic Circle, but just a short flight.


The diagrams were of a building with geometric sharps and then other diagrams of lighting devices, which obviously would support the building structure, no doubt. Then as I moved my vision to the pages previous, I realized that an archeological site was involved as well. Surely the lighted building was not to house a dig project, was it?

When I arrived at my current residence, I looked into the location and what could possible be at this site. To my amazement, the Global Seed Vault resided there. And the pictures were that of the rough drafts in the journal. The vault was constructed in 1983 to house every imaginable variety of seed and legume on the entire planet. In preparation for a planetary disaster and/or to ensure survival of all our greens, not to mention us as a human species.

I booked the next available flight to the Arctic island of Svalbard. In my transit, I thoroughly studied the leatherback journal in regards to the information depicted about the area. The journal noted that the year this had been written was 1978, yet the facility itself was not opened until 1983... 5 years later. I closed my eyes and awaited touchdown, thoughts filled my head about what I might encounter or if I was just on a dreamer's wild goose chase... And for what, to know more about the man I looked up to and had lost.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaCRT-uq8d0
(Take A Picture - Filter Hybrid Remix)

Interment.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4AwWs1U0Rc
(Joe Dallesandro - Briskeby)

I was on my way out to a call. As passenger, while driving, I see on the sidelines of the roadway several crows amongst other types of birds. I thought it odd that all these birds were ringed around something, and not flying away as our vehicle rushed passed so close. As my eyes quickly scanned and accessed the situation, I saw in the midst of all the snow, there was one lone bird in the middle of the other birds' gaze. I am not sure if the creature was alive. I realized he looked disheveled and towards its body the ice and water was a darker color. Therefore, half part of its body was not in snow but submerged in ice, with which had a water layer on the top. Could it be that even birds can fall through the ice?

I was not able to turn around or go back in any manner to see, or to help. I would have on any other day, as it would not be the first time I have helped or rescued a bird. It meant such a great deal to me that I could not stop, so I discussed it with my partner. He mentioned a similar happening in regards to a bird shot on a hunt and how other birds had mourned the occasion. Was this possibly a farewell, maybe even a burial I witnessed within the animal kingdom? Part of me felt that the poor creature was still alive. Part of me felt torn, helpless. I can only hope they were all cheering their feathered friend on to free himself... if per chance he were alive and in such a prediciment.

To finish the conversation, my partner says, "Nature is brutal." I replied (even though I do not like seeing it such, but know it as the truth), "I agree."

Life Continuation.

"Knowledge of science is to know science,
Knowledge of science is self-knowledge;
If you fail to attain self knowledge,
What good is there in your studies?"
- Good Friend

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YraU2RIHX1Y
(Far From Here - Sivert Høyem)

Locked In Memory.

As I read The Body Electric (which once belonged to my father), I see what appears to be a inch and half short brown hair within the pages. A part of me felt so lifted, so giddy. Could it be? Could this actually be a hair from my very own father!?!? Thoughts of cloning and sentimental revories filled my head... then it sank deep beneath the surface - this was a very sacred object, one I could not even guess would mean so much to me, even so small. I dared not touch the page or jaunt the book as I finished reading the page. I wish not to loose something so rare and so meaningful. When finished I carefully sat the book flat and attempted to move the hair. I think my disapointment gave when the line on the page did not falter. Sad, indeed, but think.... If I had found such a thing, an important link for the living from the dead. That feeling that came with it I would not trade for anything, even though it was just a rouse. But because of this event, I will give a lock of my very own hair to
those I deeply love and treasure, maybe even leave it in one of their favorite books to find by chance. Whether I am alive or not, I can only hope it will provoke a sense of eternity and remain a cherished keepsake that brings that feeling whenever gazed upon.

剣道家.

Kendoka.
To mold the mind and body.
To cultivate a vigorous spirit,
And through correct and rigid training,
To strive for improvement in the art of Kendo.
To hold in esteem human courtesy and honor.
To associate with others with sincerity.
And to forever pursue the cultivation of oneself.

Living In Tomorrowland.

I think about one of my favorite rides at Disney World...

The Carousel Of Progress was created for New York's World Fair in 1964. You rotate around a spotlighted stage as the carousel takes you on a journey of life, the circle of life perhaps. Each stage representing technology and innovation.


I remember as a child how exciting it was to see the ages unfold, and Disney's approach to the future far ahead in progress. My favorite being the last segment, the future. The showcased family had so many neat gadgets and all the more space age and automated. Still, to this very day, this particular theatre reminds me of something extraordinary, something that I am very much a part of.

I was fortunate enough to find a complete video of the Carousel of Progress, below. The video is wonderful, but does not give the full effect of experiencing the show first hand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKz6qdexetY
(Video - Carousel Of Progress)

It always astonishes me at how far we have come and in so little time. Bewteen computers and Ipods, that is just the small stuff. I have a cell phone, that not only serves as a camera, video camera, calendar, alarm and communication device (even visual communications), but it has global positioning functions and I can directly communicate with any internet device. My entire house functions by remote control, not just the home entertainment but the lights - everything. I have a robot to vacuum and one to wash. Most everything I own or do is related to electronics, technology, ingenuity. I even have wireless contraptions which need no cords, other than a port. My entertainment theatre is that of a movie theatre, projector and all - wireless. Not to mention all my gaming systems is directly patched to my 6 foot screen. In addition, look at the world around us... grids, astronomy, motors, digital, nano technology, exploration, clean energy, medicine, virtual reality, particle physics, you name, even the littlelest thing might surprise you. Look around you and behold where we have come in the lines of innovativeness and progress.

The fact that the future is just a day away is exciting!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzcWwmwChVE
(Time Is On My Side - The Rolling Stones)