Another try...

It is the six month anniversary of my last rejection for a grant from the Rasmuson Foundation. I am a firm believer that art like gold is where you find it. But I continue to mine this hole regardless.

Anyway...here is my idea for this terms bi-annual rejection...here cruel world:

Title: Barista!
Project Type: photographic essay

The coffee ritual in Alaska has transcended the mundane and become art. It may be because we have longer and shorter days or perhaps more emotional vampires than other locales, but, I believe truth is because the under-class, composed primarily of young single woman who have chosen this profession, have made it “full of art”.

Not so dissimilar to the mythical geisha of Japan, though success is based on raw talent rather than elaborate training and tradition, the Alaskan Barista fills a social and cultural need without which I truly believe Alaskan society would stumble. Obviously, it is not the coffee, a staple available in one’s home, nor the curious and quaint huts and shops, perhaps artistic and worthy of study like the “Doors of San Francisco”, but like those doors, if they could be opened and blossom, would allow the flowing fragrant souls behind them to be seen. We would have a truly valuable insight into the ceremony of daily life. It is the same with the trailers of joe: the enacted sacrament.

We know that the art is no more the java than to a Japanese tea, rather, it is the control and gift of the interaction between patron and patroness. In this project I capture that moment of emotion that our danzarina has tailored for that particular client that leaps across the bar or out the sliding window and fills the brief encounter, much as Mozart fills a measure or Gauguin fills a brush.

As a photographer, my art is indeed secondary, but like grand Henri, to chronicle artistically the artistic interaction (and I have chosen M. de Toulouse Lautrec specifically because the subjects and issues are so related and the faces nearly of the same family!) that a meta-art of intertwining beauty is created.

Infinity, Chaos, Randomness,and, of course, Ignorance

My first hypothetical, the one that has been driving me crazy since childhood is:

Infinity, Chaos, and Randomness

It is my contention that these do not exist except as markers of ignorance, and, that is their only value. In essence, as understanding increases the bounds of infinity are moved to new borders of superstition. There aren’t an infinite number of grains of sand on the beach at Genoa, nor, an infinite number of stars and, doubtfully, an infinite number of angels on the head of a pin.

To accept any of these concepts as mathematical certainties converts the law of “cause and effect”, to theory. Thus, it should be unacceptable in practice in Newtonian, Einsteinian or quantum physics, to refer to these concepts as other than place holders. Only in certain irrational numbers such as Pi is infinity observable in the natural universe and even here intuition holds that a culminating number exists; since we continue to search for it.

Similarly, chaos and randomness can not be observed in nature, rather systems are invariably proven to be sequential results of cause regardless of size or scale, though we may choose to call them random or chaotic for convenience. This may be a disservice to both current and future inquisitors in that accepting such convenience may preclude or ignore reality delaying truth: as in accepting the will of God precluded finding a cause and therefore a cure for Black Death.

What I am gonna do....

I have wondered how to make use of my “blog” and have come up with the notion of publishing my hypothesis.

Now for those of you who don’t know what a hypotheses is…well it’s an unproven argument based on logic or an observation. It is not a theory but all theories start with a hypothesis to which is added a little bit of proof.

Best, a hypotheses is like magic in that they begin with wonder, or that is, I wonder?

I have a lot of hypothetical questions that rattle around in my mind. I can never answer them. But what, like the alchemist of past days, no one else knows the question exists? With out question the path to discovery never begins.

So I’m going to throw these notions out on the world and hope the Stephen Hawking or some other player with the universal balls of string will answer these arguments. At least come forth and tell me why they are silly so that my brain could be put to more useful purposes like weeding carrots in the Matanuska soil.

Your New Year

I don't know why but January 1st has never been my New Year. I vacillate between Solstice and St. Stephen's day, depending on my mood, as the beginning of the next year. It is a sign of my Age that I even know what St. Stephen's day is, or my view of the language that it has nothing to do with boxing though a goodly number of English speakers would disagree.

My New Year's greeting for December 22 this year and your New Year this day:

The bent shoulders of sacred Matanuska
seem relieved of trial and tribulation
as they begin to glow
first bloody red
then bolder and golden
in the auspicious first light
of our sun’s northern new year
That moment in the revolution
most filled with promise and prospect
where the expression of time
past, fleeting, and to be
is re-equated in the glory of it all
Hearts beat anticipation
not regarding the eons
that visited the mountain
with new light

And so our friends and loves
…and your friends and loves too
…and most especially those not befriended
and perhaps unaware of love
It is our deepest desire
that the light finds you,
peace and understanding
furthers our kind,
that potentates, prophets, and rulers
bend and bow to love and truth,
disarm their warriors,
refuse evil ways
and trade their unwise power for prosperity and charity
for all the worlds
with new light

Love to all,

Truth?

I have lived most of my life in tiny villages. Yes, I was born in a major city and spent 5 years in the heart of Manhattan but most of my time has been in little places like Embudo, New Mexico or Nichols, New York or Cockeysville, Maryland. I have also a few years in larger towns like Kotzebue, Alaska. I only bring this up because of vetting, to let you know I have experienced and may be an expert on the issues I have witnessed.

The concern is, "What is truth?" It is certainly not immutable, at least not where people are involved. It does seem to have something to do with perceived reality, belief, and trust and little to do with proof or knowlege.

The First Entry

I doubt I have the determination to keep this up...but here goes.

It is a chilly day, about 20F. I just read where Seth Kantner was awarded $40K for his work. I'm pleased for him though slightly jealous. I am absolutely positive that I am a better writer, of course I will need to write before I can make a true comparison.

The writing thing has kinda been on a boulder strewn road lately. I still haven't quite decided what to make of the response to Definitive Guide to Kotzebue. The young woman who was at the center of my fame has not, as of yet, ever written me directly though she does make disparaging personal comments, calling me lazy, or "technically white" and stuff like that, and presumes she knows me....though I don't believe we've met. I suspect James supplied the misinformation to keep up the story.

And that brings the thoughts around the circle. James Mason certainly deserves some recognition at least as much as Seth. I can't imagine how difficult his job must be writing a newspaper where the truth is not politically correct. His photography seems to suffer there too.
And I think it is the "truth" thing that effects it. Look at his Bosnian and Yugoslavian work and compare it to the girl's basketball shots of today. Grizzly shots of suicides, child abuse, headless walrus and the like certainly would cost him his job. Seth, I envy his luck, James, I envy his talent and am saddened by his situation, assuredly of his own making.

I understand being ham-strung by politics of place or association. It is an excuse I use frequently to avoid writing or to hide in poetry. I hope I get over it and get back to the grind and get something done then I can righteously complain about Seth's good fortune.

Congratulations Seth!

At first there were none...

It is ALL Bill's fault!