On time for writing poetry. This week, a colleague, Terrance, and I were talking about poetry, journal writing and the lack of time . . . so I thought I'd look at what surrounds me as I drive to work each day. We had talked a little in humanities class about how prehistoric peoples must have been very aware of the weather; their lives often depended on "reading" the weather, while today we remain oblivious, most of the time, unless ice storms come. So I tried to look at the weather, to "read" it like my grandfather would (he was a cowboy in Wyoming at the turn of the century), by scanning the sky. Here's the weather report from this week, so far, written in bits each day as I drove to work.

October Weather Report

Early Tuesday morning,
clumps of clouds
hang low over the valley
as if they had fallen -- like stars,
like dreams too close to the earth.

On Wednesday, gray dimples fill the sky,
flecks of light at the horizon hint at the sun,
while trees shiver yellow.

Thursday, brilliant sun blinks and twins to moon,
traceries of cloud alternately hide and reveal the sun.
Wispy streamers of gray drift, filling up the sky.
Pale yellow bands light the edge of the world,
now yellow, gray and blue,
layered in morning harmony.

On Friday, what a curious mix of sky and dark cloud,
as if yesterday's god, Thor, Norse god of Thunder,
slumbered amid rumpled gray clouds along the horizon,
ignoring that one bolt of bright sun above,
dreaming of what giants, what wild nights,
lost in the morning,
as rain smudges the line of hills
where earth meets sky.

Detail of Chiwara Mask from Bambara of Mali, Africa. The first time I saw a chiwara mask was in the video, African Art, which had just a small clip of people in a small village talking about the importance of this ritual dance, done just before planting. The dance/ritual commemorated how the Bambara learned how to till the ground with a tool rather than by hand, probably adapted from the antelope's horns. The video vividly shows the mask in context, costume, drum, music, and that thin line between forest and field. But a photograph can never capture the artifact itself -- which Gary Westford has made more accessible to us by creating the library display at LBCC. Very few of us can ever hope to see the chiwara mask as it was meant to be experienced, at the center of ritual.

This impressive mask is about 3 feet tall, with intricate carvings. Some sources report that only men dance with the chiwara mask; however, the masks themselves answer this question as we can see two styles of chiwara -- male and female. Gary's mask (above) shows a male mask; the woman's mask inclues a baby antelope; she symbolizes the earth, the baby symbolizes humankind.

The costume in the African Art video is made of raffia (a kind of straw), and Parrinder (see below) shows a mask with black and white cloth decorated with symbols of the universe. The ritual itself is to ensure fertility -- of the crops and of the community, much like the underlying roots to our own Passover or Easter for spring planting, and then in the fall, somewhat like Succot or Thanksgiving for harvest.

Chiwara Mask from Bambara of Mali, Africa, Gary Westford exhibit, Linn-Benton Community College Library, Albany, Oregon.

Wedding Portrait Mask, Ghana, Africa. Gary Westford at LBCC put together an amazing exhibit of African artifacts at our main campus library, including this wonderful mask that shows two faces coming together as one. I don't know more about this mask, but I'm fascinated by the double image for in Benin (also in Southwest Africa), traditional stories about sacred or heavenly twins are common, originally from creation stories. Could this mask be actually a mask of twins but sold to tourists as a "wedding portrait mask"? My question comes because usually masks show gender -- and here the gender is subsumed. That could be reinforcing the melding of two to one in a marriage. So, more research is needed.

Geoffrey Parrinder talks about the primeval twins who were the parents of all other gods. Their first act was to create 7 pairs of twins (for example, the twins of Storm), all to rule different aspects of the earth, a neat turn on animism (page 23) in African Mythology (New York: Barnes & Noble 1996).

No way to post pictures, but this morning I´m writing from a little internet cafe in San Miguel de Allende in Gto., Mexico. The door is open to let a few fresh breezes in, and the taxis, cars of every description, including the infamous SUV, trucks, busses, and the occasional dune buggy, all pass by, bumping over historic cobblestone streets. San Miguel is still unforgettably lovely. We were first here over 30 years ago and the city has grown much. The biblioteca is still the biggest English language library in all of Mexico, although the collection is very dated. Literacy programs and scholarships for Mexican children are the main focus. Retirees clog the downtown area, and the artisan's market is still filled with colorful and beautiful Mexican crafts, more expensive than I ever imagined. What I will remember most are the rooftop gardens with sweeping vistas, and houses with bouganville cascading down their sides, incredibly fresh mangos, bananas, and avacados, and patient people who speak Spanish slowly. Each morning, the birds -- including a lovely white egret -- flock from Benito Juarez part, just two blocks from our little apartment, and the writing goes well. Beth

Roman mosaic found in Turkey telling story of the birth of the Minotaur and Daedalus' design of the labyrinth. The interesting story of this mosaic is that NOVA writes it up with an emphasis on Daedalus and Icarus, even to the title of this mosaic. Here's NOVA's summary.

"When King Minos of Crete [center] decided to keep alive a magnificent bull that Poseidon had given him for sacrifice, the sea god punished him by having Minos's wife Pasiphae (seated at left in the mosaic) fall in love with the bull. To satisfy her desire, the architect Daedalus and his son Icarus (second from right and far right, respectively) built her a hollow cow in which she could hide and mate with the bull. Their coupling produced the half-man, half-bull Minotaur, which was shut away in the maze-like Labyrinth (upper right)."

The female figure between King Minos and Pasiphae remains a mystery. The central figure remains King Minos, linked to his wife on the left, yet reaching out to Daedalus on the right. Pasiphae is shown seated, looking somewhat self-satisfied, self-absorbed. Researchers speculate that the laybrinth, shown on the far right as a separate building, is actually the entire palace complex at Minos on Knossos for its hundreds of connecting rooms and hallways. What is the moral of this story: To disobey the gods brings horrific retribution? That our desires or curiosity cannot always be satisfied? That we cannot always confront what we create -- with human technology? How interesting that this particular scene, massive in size, was chosen for the floor of this Roman villa in Turkey. Which characters shown drawn your sympathy? I'm curious about that woman in the middle. Is she a servant? A messenger? A goddess herself? Is she perhaps the storyteller herself (see the outstretched hand), or is she the mistress of the house in which this mosaic was found?

Source of story and mosaic: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/zeugma/mosa_05.html#fea_top

Saturday morning, early. Spring term is finally over! Whew! What a rush at the end with last-minute papers, a mix of celebration and completion for most. This morning up far too early but Allen called me in to see a few minutes of NOVA's breathtaking story about the Roman mosaics found in Turkey. 10 mosaics were discovered just before (or perhaps because of) a new dam that would drench this historic area with a new lake. The expressiveness of these mosaics, the brilliance of their colors -- and the really fine recreation of a Roman villa in the Hellenistic period make this site one to visit: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/zeugma/
And now that summer's begun, it's time to blog once more. So, into the breach, blog!