story telling

I felt the presence of something numinous in the garden as I opened the door and stepped out.

There was a rustle in the brush of something just disappearing on the periphery. 

And then I saw the deer, a female, quiet, unafraid. 

She slowly walked out of the garden and behind the house.

There was a rustle in the foliage right under my feet where I had noticed only dead leaves, golden and brown and still damp from the night's rain. 

A rabbit in its Fall coat, blending with the foliage, skittered off.

And then I saw her, not too far away and not too near, so wondrous on her four paws and her tawny fur –-

a lioness right there in my garden! 

But I saw right away that one of her eyes was bloodied and bruised. 

And standing right next to her was a small boy, unknown to me, repeatedly hitting her in the eye with a club.

I became suddenly anxious, my mood shifted. 

And I worried that the lioness would tire of her own patience and turn on the child and attack him. 

But the lioness refused to use her power against the child.

And I stood in awe trying to decide what to do. 

What would you do?

Night Beech

Trunkbeat.

Cricketbeat.

Leafbeat.

Elephant foot.

Webbed arc.

Wet bark.

Nightpulse.

Winged dark.

Softsweeping.

Lymph pulse.

Windrenter.

Black heart.

Stillstanding.

Unsleeper.

Windriding.

Heartbender.

Hey everybody, I don't really know if this has any place in this Ecological Imaginings class, but maybe if we can imagine the preservation of women to be a form of ecology, not unlike the preservation of all plant life, animal life.

I just wanted to call everyone's attention to this excellent documentary currently being shown on PBS on Mon & Tues nights at 9:00 PM.  I imagine you guys have lots of time to watch films, yeah!  But this is an amazing series.

"Half the Sky" about gender based violence.

Here's the link to the first & second segment:

http://video.pbs.org/video/2283557115   

http://video.pbs.org/video/2283558278

               It has rained and the garden is very wet. There are no crows.  The only sound is a damp thickness of  cricket sound, thick as an invisible soup through which my ears have to wade.  As I become accustomed and tuned in to them, I hear they are not just an undifferentiated "them", but a symphonic multitude, a chorus of legions of crickets under blade and under leaf, under bush, and under tree.  I will search and perhaps find none. I have searched before.  Their communication ( I believe that we can make that assumption) has a comforting effect on my nervous system.  Theirs is a soft blanketing sound, an unobtrusive  blend with the soft swish of leaves in a soundless breeze. We hear  the air’s effects.  The effect of its movement on surrounding things.  Everything is connected.  Everything has an affect on something, or someone else.

               I have heard myself claim to myself that if a garden sound is not beautiful, in the sense to which I have become accustomed by small song birds, then I would prefer it to be unobtrusive.  That is to say banished.

              Do I prefer unobtrusive people? Unobtrusive plants?

Gary Snyderesque:

Hanks of dark clouds.  One glowing eye.  The full moon.  Spits of rock. Braided ribbons froth over the break water.  Storm weeps on the land. Falling, stamping its foot on the beach.  Footprint of the sky. Crash and thunder of waves, rising and swinging, seeking the soft underbreath of the waiting world.

We will never be the same. The seals give birth. Tails lift. Red bulging, writhing. Balloon of wriggling bloody seal birth. Seal pup hungers its way out, biting its placenta.  Cannibalistic. Sea gulls squawk. Greedy midwives peck and pull the afterbirth in sharp beaks. Tear it to bite-sized pieces.  Invocation to the ancient Gods, this shrine of becoming.

Based on this new piece in the Womvichorate Mode: (indebted to, departing from Snyder & some rheomode perhaps).      

(verb) To womvichorate:  (roots) woman, women, womb, belly, (vide),see, speak chorus, core, coeur, heart, orate. 

speaking as I, woman. 

vide/ seeing, eye-centering

wom/ body-centering, woman, women, womb

cor/heart-centering, emotion-centering

chor/ invoking communal speech

orate/ speech

chorate/ speaking together, centering in the body

womvi/ woman/women sight, woman/women seeing

     Who Is The Intruder In This Garden?

Musical Ecology:  Sonic Preference or Prejudice?

There is a chortle out the early morning window that draws me outside. Any creature laughing, or even approaching a giggle or a chortle, has my ear.  The robin with its eager uneven step, deliberate always, allows us to think it has a jovial disposition because of its call, its cocky head, its ruddy-breasted hope.

Against an ostinato of crickets, their thick insistence blanketing the morning, one crow sounds as angry as the robin is jovial, that is to say probably not at all.  Still its raucous dark persistence from that branch grates on my attuned ear.  My ear is well-tuned to a well-tempered scale not a crow’s ill-tempered screech of simplistic percussive rhythms.

The tuning system of the well-tempered scale, like all tuning systems, is a system that is arbitrarily devised based on the choices of a particular culture.  What sounds harmonious to my ear, the particular pattern of whole steps and half steps, the chromatic increments that sound pleasing are what I have been taught to find pleasing.  “You have to be carefully taught.”  (Of course that song from “South Pacific” is about being taught racism.)

INTRODUCTION:  What does it mean to visit an African country with a class from a US college in order to learn?

Alice Lesnick, Term Professor of Education, Bryn Mawr College

July, 2012

360: Learning and Narrating Childhoods (Spring, 2012) was a cluster of three courses, one in Education, one in Literature, and one in Psychology.  15 Students from a broad range of majors, years, and backgrounds undertook a cross-disciplinary, cross-cultural study of child development, with a particular focus on the role of language and literacy in forming and channeling personal and group identities.  

To Begin. . .

As an avid TV junkie, I have stayed up many a night to watch re-runs of the shows “Teen Mom” and “16 & Pregnant.” I know you are probably rolling your eyes if you're not a fan of the “reality” TV phenomenon, but these shows have affected me in a way that other “reality” based shows never could. (...So understandable when thinking about their consistent lack of depth: there are not a multitude of thought-provoking conversations that follow the documentation of rainbow Jello shots and women pulling out other’s hair extensions). These shows have affected me partly because I am the product of unplanned pregnancy to a fifteen-year-old girl myself, and a subsequent adoption. I find the show to be a way to help me begin to understand what I meant to my birth mother at age fifteen, the prime time for being a devoted Frito Lay consumer and wearing exactly what the mannequin wears.

I’m working to develop and create a storyboard for the video piece I want to produce for my final project, but I am wondering if the directive and narrative-reflective form of the storyboard. That is, this happens, then this, then this. And that is not the kind of video I want to make, nor does it reflect the way I do my work, so I’m not sure if I should try to conform to the process, that it might make my work better, or if I should just do as I typically do, which is to be a bit more organic in my process, although perhaps less deliberate?