I watched as he dug deep
into his rugsack
to fetch his bottle
and soap his dry body
before walking toward the sea
with a sticky head
he scrubbed and washed
in the icy waves
long before dawn
to escape the scorn
of many a lot luckier than he
they who come clean
to frolick in the sea
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
My life is a pond
My life is a pond.
A seemingly unruffled surface
the prettiness of lilies atop,
with open sunbathing smiles
which respond to a welcome sun.
They hide the roots that anchor in the rocks
and rotten leaves, that lie sodden and sullen,
waiting to become food for fish.
Memories of yesterdays tree.
An ever changing cycle,
at night the flowers close and sleep
as stars take their turn to shine.
I lie on the life giving bed of fermentation
under water, looking up through my hopes and fears
that distort a miraculous sky.
I wonder at their purpose - surely not only to dance and shine?
and as the night-shift bids me well and the stars wave me goodbye,
I realise that they gave me hope while the sun was busy elsewhere.
the prettiness of lilies atop,
with open sunbathing smiles
which respond to a welcome sun.
They hide the roots that anchor in the rocks
and rotten leaves, that lie sodden and sullen,
waiting to become food for fish.
Memories of yesterdays tree.
An ever changing cycle,
at night the flowers close and sleep
as stars take their turn to shine.
I lie on the life giving bed of fermentation
under water, looking up through my hopes and fears
that distort a miraculous sky.
I wonder at their purpose - surely not only to dance and shine?
and as the night-shift bids me well and the stars wave me goodbye,
I realise that they gave me hope while the sun was busy elsewhere.
MgM ©
The Yarn
A tight knit family,
A presentable façade.
The beautiful garment
held together by secrets
and social norms,
starts to unravel
from a broken place,
until the structure lies
at ones feet
in a heap,
of tangled memories.
It lies there
until you can grasp
the end of it,
which becomes
a new beginning.
Weaving
a new blanky,
to cover
your exposed knees,
using the same
old yarn.
MgM (c)A presentable façade.
The beautiful garment
held together by secrets
and social norms,
starts to unravel
from a broken place,
until the structure lies
at ones feet
in a heap,
of tangled memories.
It lies there
until you can grasp
the end of it,
which becomes
a new beginning.
Weaving
a new blanky,
to cover
your exposed knees,
using the same
old yarn.
LIFE (According to me)
Each of us is a spiritual being
given a body to inhabit through life
In the beginning it’s new and we get to grips
With the gears and controls of balance and speed.
Depending on what attributes we have been given
We steer our way accordingly through education and sport,
Winning and losing, laughing and crying, we learn how to cope or not to.
We are taught to win and to get ahead and set a higher goal.
Bigger is better and faster is fine, and media coverage certainly makes you shine.
Some do it alone and others find partners and even add kids to the team
On and on we go, with our lives in tow and the pile on the wagon grows
The cycle continues as the dependants leave and each has a family of their own
Twenty-four thousand days is the time allotted to gather as much as you can
The very next day you get to stop doing what you’ve known for 65 years,
“Lucky you” they say, “you have arrived”. You get to stay home and potter.
As long as we’ve remembered that spirit is key and the importance of loving ‘me’
Then we’ll be kind to those around us, ’cause we know we’re all the same
The spirit is strong and will finally rise when the flesh is too weak and it falls
So be slow to judge the failing flesh or the look of the lavishly pampered
look deep into another’s eyes to the heart, deep in the depths of the soul
that’s where the roots of a smile are buried
that’s where the treasure lies
In the beginning it’s new and we get to grips
With the gears and controls of balance and speed.
Depending on what attributes we have been given
We steer our way accordingly through education and sport,
Winning and losing, laughing and crying, we learn how to cope or not to.
We are taught to win and to get ahead and set a higher goal.
Bigger is better and faster is fine, and media coverage certainly makes you shine.
Some do it alone and others find partners and even add kids to the team
On and on we go, with our lives in tow and the pile on the wagon grows
The cycle continues as the dependants leave and each has a family of their own
Twenty-four thousand days is the time allotted to gather as much as you can
The very next day you get to stop doing what you’ve known for 65 years,
“Lucky you” they say, “you have arrived”. You get to stay home and potter.
As long as we’ve remembered that spirit is key and the importance of loving ‘me’
Then we’ll be kind to those around us, ’cause we know we’re all the same
The spirit is strong and will finally rise when the flesh is too weak and it falls
So be slow to judge the failing flesh or the look of the lavishly pampered
look deep into another’s eyes to the heart, deep in the depths of the soul
that’s where the roots of a smile are buried
that’s where the treasure lies
MgMusings ©
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Ayahuasca weekend BK
I finally have found what I was looking for.
Starting off the journey in February, I was driven by the need to find my authentic self. I could feel myself being depleted and dying in my soul. I knew that my higher self was not this. I knew that my intentions were to live in love and in service to my fellow beings.
I was driven by what seemed to be automatic actions that hurt people. I wanted them to see that I knew stuff and wanted to compete, and win.
The need to stand out, to make sure people took notice of me was an integral part of who Mandy was. One could put this down to Confidence (which it was not), cheek and personality of a rebellious nature and to parade in front of the crowd as the most beautiful or even outrageous. It entangled me in the need to apologise every time I interrupted, pushed in or made an intrusion into another’s space. I could see what I was doing but couldn’t control the urges to disrupt.
This all was part of a dark energy that drove me to compulsive and impulsive deeds. When I felt unworthy I would go into the bathroom and chop my hair with a pair of scissors, even up to here at Bodhi Khaya in the last 2 weeks. When I felt out of the conversation I would interrupt or distract. When I needed assurance I would get a boyfriend and soothe the feminine wounded part of me. Only to know that it was temporary each time. I would demand attention in slight and/or obvious ways. I would become obsessed or addicted to something, anything to distract from the pain. I always berated and punished myself afterwards and over and over again the cycle would continue as I tried to gain control of the demon.
I’m so sorry if I have hurt you by acting out.
I honour you as my mother and a woman with immense strength.
I’m so sorry that I haven’t up to now honoured your path, the one you have chosen for yourself, as we all are allowed to choose without judgement of each other.
I’m sorry that I embarrassed you at your Ordination in Bloemfontein on your personal victory day when I should have been proud of your struggle to get there.
I honour you now, and apologise if it has come so late.
I bow to your amazing patience as caregiver to dad, knowing the pain you suffered at his hand.
I’m so sorry that I felt entitled that you help me and have me in your home, just because I felt you owed it to me. I cringe now even as I write it.
I understand now that you don’t owe me and that it is me that should honour your space and me that should be grateful for your generosity.
Thank you for being gracious despite this. Thank you for opening your space to me regardless.
I’m so sorry for hurting you.
This is what transpired.
As I arrived at BK for Sunday lunch I was stunned to see the sign “Flower Valley” and knew it was part of a bigger picture. (Remember my vision I told you about for these next years was the Valley of flowers!)
The owner of BK was at lunch and after having a chat she asked me to stay there instead of going to Hermanus backpackers where I had booked in. She wanted Pilates lessons every day and gave me the time for free. My reason for being in Hermanus was that my Jhb Healer and another very powerful healer were in SA from the Amazon and would be doing a healing plant medicine ceremony. I found out that they were doing the ceremony weekend at BK! How amazing is that Mom, right in my lap! I gardened with Enoch and ate with the staff, 3 meals a day. I stayed in a beautiful little room and a fireplace in the lounge. I read and walked and sat on the deck at the dam. I started my diet for the ceremony and ate less and less in preparation for the medicine a week before.
Setting my intention for the healing was easy “who am I”. Who is the real authentic Mandy. What is this “thing” in me that drives this behaviour and keeps me feeling anxious and obsessed?
Where should I be? Why am I rudderless and going around in circles?
On Friday, when all the people arrived, around 27 people I was already getting an unravelling feeling. A jittery feeling knowing that I am moving closer to the answer.
When I packed my things for the ceremony, which were a blanket, bedroll, bucket to purge into, loo paper for snot and tears and a pillow. I saw the little doll that I bought in McGregor. Apparently it was a doll given to traumatised children in the Breede river project. The little doll had a long pixie hat on. The lady I stayed with there told me that it had saved the life of many abused children. She never could have imagined the impact that doll would have. I had been walking around with it since then, and often squeezing it in my hand. I was told to take it with me into the Ceremony. Oh my word, then I knew that it was something I hadn’t dealt with yet and started shaking like something at the end of it’s battery life.
Friday night healing....7pm-2.30am
After medicine, one asks the questions in prayer with the devine covering of the healers singing Icaros, which are Sacred songs of love for God and incantations and blessings for the process of healing for every one of us in the room. It is silent and dark but for them singing.
I snuggled under all of my blankets ready for the journey.
Q...Where should I be?...................A...right here, now.
Q....NO Aya I mean, where should I be now?.......A.....right here, in this moment.
Q....Ok then, What should I be doing in my life?........A....this, this that you are doing now is correct, this is exactly where you should be
Q.....Why is my rudder gone I cant see the direction?......A....I got a vision of myself with my thumb tacked to the floor and I couldn’t go anywhere but around in circles.
Q......What is holding me down?.......A.....I will show you
Q.......I am struggling with finding the release of this “thing”.........A....trust in God, first allow the medicine to heal your physical body.
I could feel the medicine slowly running down my body from my head to my toes and relaxed in the knowledge that I had the whole weekend to get to the point of seeing the truth but probably needed my body to be ready.
A lady started singing the most beautiful song and I saw tendrils on a vine of flowers coming from her mouth and flowing over us all, each in their own silent quest for healing. It soothed and calmed me and made me feel so safe.
The didgeridoo player came to the one end of the hall and played with the dig. Touching the floor. It seemed to resonate through my body and he walked slowly through the middle of the hall with the healing vibration resonating love and compassion. He stopped opposite my mat and as he blew I saw spiders and flowers and coloured shapes coming from the tube.
We prayed and received blessings until 2.30am when we closed and went to sleep.
I felt frustrated and anxious to get answers.
In the room I took as many blankets to cover me and wore 3 layers of clothes. I couldn’t get warm enough.
Saturday eve.....6pm -2.30
After taking the healing medicine I focused hard on the intention
Who am I?
I feel so desperate that I just wanted to die. I am so tired of searching for relief, this is my last chance.
It was freezing and I lay under 4 blankets with a pixie cap and gloves.
I saw Mandy, the little chubby girl with the wild head of hair and right there the lady with the healing voice started to sing. The vines of flowers and curly tendrils smoothed out of her mouth bringing calm relief and soothing the soul.
I felt a dark presence coming down over me like the underbelly of a large ugly insect with long tendrils. I was crying because I knew that I was close but scared to know how it would present.
I blew my nose quietly and as I put the tissue in the bucket my sleeve caught the plastic packet and I ruined the moment, interrupting the beautiful song and jolting everyone out of their reverie. There was a disappointed gasp from 24 people....I felt embarrassed and humbled but immediately was shown that this is exactly the unintentionally disruptive behaviour that was at the root of my “thing”.
The lady thankfully started to sing again. I was shown visuals from that interruption, and then every interruption and disruption and attention seeking thing all the way down 55 years until I got to my delivery with You and Dad and sister Kirstein. I experienced a horror and a tightening of the baby blanket, so tight that I couldn’t breathe and experienced shame over my hairy body and my genitals. Actually I saw that I was very ugly and looked more like a little baboon or hairy fat tarantula. Over the next few months I experienced a deep need for attention and the more I felt ignored the more I cried and the more I was an interruption and a disruption of the young couples life, having 2 tiny children, felt unseen and ignored. Some incidents followed that are too sensitive to discuss but which connected me to my parents as a sort of threesome in spirit. I also understood why I kept interrupting sexual contact between my parents. How did I always know.....I felt left out.
As the heaviness descended I remember the healer saying, no matter what happens, Stay very calm. Explaining that all the healing was spiritual and our physical bodies will be fine. I knew that but everything felt so real. I asked for another drop of the medicine so that I could be brave enough to face the demon and be rid of this “thing”.
I went back, lay down and said, “right, I’m ready, prepared to die to self, I’m done suffering.
Mother Aya said, open your mouth and I did.......I had a little burp and experienced an agonising death of a very ugly and angry cockroach thing as it was dispelled from me. I had a wrenching in my body as if a tree was being uprooted and the tendrils pulling out of me with the same sound and feeling when you pull a big weed out of the ground. My body sort of deflated and felt very raw and empty. I started shaking and Mother Aya said that it was taken from me and that it had been so part of me that I couldn’t see it. Entangled with my pure essence was the trauma of the birthing day and the strengthening feeling of rejection.
I then understood why I insisted on “See me”, “see me”.
I was shown the times when I was obnoxious, showy-offy and attention seeking. I cried for that fat little tot and was humbled deep deep into my soul.
It was so awful to see how many people I had bullied and hurt. I wanted the pictures to stop. I was shown the enormity of the hurt I had caused to get the satisfaction I needed.
Aya showed me that all the signs were there, calling out for healing. The little trauma baby had a long pixie hat and I was shown the fact that I had crocheted 3 such hats in the last week. I was astounded.
Aya also showed me why the wrong people who were drawn to me, were tantalised by the “thing”.
Deeply humbled and drained, I lay crying until the closing blessings.
The ground started to undulate under me and I relaxed on a bed of vibrating concrete.
We were asked to sit up during the protective blessings and benediction.
I vomited nasty stuff into my bucket. It was done.........purged.
I was freezing and again I piled on as many blankets as I could. The skinny woman in my room slept with the duvet only and didn’t seem to feel the cold.
I didn’t sleep very well as the pictures and the lessons continued. It was painful but I was so grateful that I was finally me, the authentic original Mandy.
At breakfast I felt so open and vulnerable. I felt like my body was open and in pain.
I was so cold.
My intention for the third evening was that Mother Aya stitch me back together again and fill the huge hole with love.
Sunday 6pm-3.30am
During this ceremony I relaxed into the healing knowing that what I had come for had been attained.
I snuggled under the blankets, ready for journey work.
Mother Aya told me to contain my energy. To hold things and not dissipate energy by watching nonsense and violence which drains energy away, to stay with the spirit, to be in the moment, and walk and talk with care.
We all lay under the Icaros melodies and listened as Aya administered healing and knowledge into our hearts and bodies.
The evening was reverent and sacred......a deep soft and quiet respect for the divine energy and the journeys we had already had.
I saw one of my spirit guides, an Apache chief on a horse at the far end of the room.
He had appeared in a reiki session before regarding abandonment. I was grateful for his confirming presence.
I had a deep sense of connection and was filled with a gentle love for myself and had a wonderful conversation regarding life and the lessons I had learned were confirmed for me by Aya.
My hands were getting itchy and my body grew warm. I threw off the blankets and felt the reality in my body of quiet powerful energy.
Lifting my hands into the air, I asked Mother Aya if she could bless me with healing.
I asked what I should do next.
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Kyk Op
Daars kak in die water
ons swem teen die stroom
kom uit kom boontoe
skep asem en droom
glo in die liefde
soek vir die goed
kyk op en kyk boontoe
skep 'n bietjie moed
kom ons sing
kom ons dans
vir die wylige kans
dat dit waar is
ons kry nog 'n kans
wees mooi met mekaar
voordat iemand jou vra
die dag wat jy val
sal 'n ander jou dra
MgMusings
ons swem teen die stroom
kom uit kom boontoe
skep asem en droom
glo in die liefde
soek vir die goed
kyk op en kyk boontoe
skep 'n bietjie moed
kom ons sing
kom ons dans
vir die wylige kans
dat dit waar is
ons kry nog 'n kans
wees mooi met mekaar
voordat iemand jou vra
die dag wat jy val
sal 'n ander jou dra
MgMusings
Lover
There’s something to be said
for a head in the bed
with a body
under millions of feathers.
Mind slips away for a moment
to stray in a dream filled with
smiling boaters.
They’re happy and gay
waving streamers that say,
'we’re alive!
we are free and untethered'.
Open your hand
watch the colourful strands
dance away on the wind
toward heaven.
Wake with a start
and a song in your heart
see that the new day has risen.
MgM ©
Be
No matter where you go
-you’re home-
No matter how you hide
-you’re seen-
No matter how tightly bound you feel
-you’re free-
No matter how you look
-you’re loved-
No matter what you say
-you’re heard-
You are enough
Be You
Choices
A circling spiral curls slowly,
creating a cylindrical spring potential for some ”thing”.
A happening.
A good thing, or a bad thing,
an energetic thing.
Come what may it’ll have its’ way.
Let it be good, let it be kind, let it be noble.
A circling spiral curls slowly
creating a cylindrical spring, potential for some ”thing”.
A feeling thing, full of love or full of fear.
An emotional thing.
Come what may, let it have its’ way.
Let it be love.
Allow it to draw you near.
Embrace.
MgM ©
Flying away
Sitting in the nick
of time, shooting the breeze
drifts over yonder, come back
in the day I had a dime
in the hand, worth five, in the bush
where the buffalo's roam, free
as a bird, on the wing
of a prayer - the dove,
a promise of peace
on earth, love, beauty
and the beast.
Slain is the dragon
as he lies panting after me
and I loosen my shackles
fall heavily to ground and I fly.
I fly and fly
and fly.
of time, shooting the breeze
drifts over yonder, come back
in the day I had a dime
in the hand, worth five, in the bush
where the buffalo's roam, free
as a bird, on the wing
of a prayer - the dove,
a promise of peace
on earth, love, beauty
and the beast.
Slain is the dragon
as he lies panting after me
and I loosen my shackles
fall heavily to ground and I fly.
I fly and fly
and fly.
Trust
I feel as if I’m on a witch’s hat
circling up and down and that,
come what may the feeling lingers.
Open bodice ties all loose,
trying to catch them in the wind
to tie them tight against my skin.
Wind howls through me,
nothing left.
Ego, pride and open chest,
I’m trying to gather up my pieces.
The angels tell me
let them rest,
stay the drifting unsure state.
This is change,
a whole new you -
trust fall into space anew.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Girl Power (for the empowering of young adolescent ladies re: HIV in SA)
Take your hand off my butt
you're invading my strutt
who said you were an explorer
Don't touch me like that
have respect for my fat
I could even be your sister
you ask me once
you ask me nice
this naledi belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you play with hiv
you ask me nice
this naledi belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you play with hiv
I know what you want
if I have to be blunt
you'll need a plastic cover
play it safe, play it cool
don't be a fool
maybe then you could be my lover
you ask me once
you ask me nice
my sexy belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you're ignoring hiv
you ask me nice
my sexy belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you're ignoring hiv
it's mine to give
you leave it alone
it's my essence!
my virtue !
my power!
if you don't understand
this "own choice" brand
then go and ask your mother
to hold her
is to have her
you can get down on your knee
when ma trick (matric) is over
then come back and talk to she
you ask me once
you ask me nice
and then you listen to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
don't give me hiv
MgM (c)
MgM (c)
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Emerging from Apathy - CC8
I would like to share my story with you tonight.
Emerging from apathy.
Becoming the author of my own life story.
Taking responsibility for my outcome…
Emerging from apathy.
Becoming the author of my own life story.
Taking responsibility for my outcome…
18 years ago I woke up in the morning to a hormone tablet, a
cup of coffee and a cigarette.
I popped my Prozac anti depressant and after breakfast had
my nexium for a bleeding ulcer. I had a migraine injection in my bag for just
in case.
By twelve o’clock I was thinking of a glass or two of wine
and by 4pm it was whiskey.
I was like a yo-yo.
When I was up I was flying…. Loud and obnoxious. When down I was a melancholic mess.
When I was up I was flying…. Loud and obnoxious. When down I was a melancholic mess.
When someone asked what I did over the weekend, it was easy.
Gin and Tonic.
A little light started flickering in my mind.
Maybe I needed help?
The Psychiatrist was as heavy as a wet sack - soaked full of
sticky secrets.
His face was blank and unresponsive as he listened.
His arm worked separately from his still body as it burrowed
deeply into his pocket unwrapping hidden sweets. His hand came up to his mouth
hiding the treat and each time the entry was disguised with a little cough.
His eyes started flicking quick looks at the clock and I
realised my time was probably up. I slowed down my rant and he nodded slowly
pulling the prescription pad closer.
“I’m going to give you a little something to help you cope”
More medication!
More medication!
Thank you but no, I think I was self medicating quite adequately….
I was looking for something, but it wasn’t a bottle of pills.
I decided to see a psychologist, someone who couldn’t write
me a script.
He was such a sweet man. He smiled and um’d and ah’d. He
shook his head and put his hands to his mouth in disbelief.
5 minutes before the end of the session he saids that it
would be good to see me again in a weeks time to hear more of this unbelievable
story.
Even though I got the feeling he didn't believe me, I went back 5 more times to get the same words……I needed a solution….where was my golden ticket?
Why didn’t he give me a solution to my dilemma?
Even though I got the feeling he didn't believe me, I went back 5 more times to get the same words……I needed a solution….where was my golden ticket?
Why didn’t he give me a solution to my dilemma?
My pastor at the church told me to pray…. even harder.
My partner said I should have a drink.
My recurring nightmare at the time.
I was on a bicycle with a carrier attached. I had my 3 children
with me all perched in some way on the bike. I was riding in the night on the
sand road towards town but I never got there. I turned back to the farm and
kept riding balancing the children but after what seemed like an age I never got
to the farm either and turned around to get to town…and on and on it went…I felt completely lost.
I decided to change tack and made an appointment to see a Cognitive Therapist in Cape Town and this time a woman.
Within 5 minutes I realised that she believed me and that
she was angry for me and she gave me a mental tool to use which started my
rising up out of the apathy that had dragged me for years.
She asked me what the name of my book was…..my life story.
She said that I could be anything I wanted to be. Good, bad
or ugly.
“Fee state woman becomes rich and famous!” I was happy with
that.
I mean, isn’t that what we all want? No no, not to live in
the Free State for goodness sake but rich and famous, the golden state of
happiness.
She then asked me who writes in my book, who holds the pen?
Who holds your pen?
With that pen I had to make a list of all that I had lost
and start claiming each little thing back that was “me”.
Which music did I
play?
What food did I like?
Was I pressurised to be what I wasn't?
Where did I need to take back control?
Was I pressurised to be what I wasn't?
Where did I need to take back control?
Was I dressed for
someone else or for myself?
Did I react out of myself or for the benefit of another?
And the list went on and on as she gave me clues of what to
look for.
I never went back to see her…..this was my golden ticket.......this tool was enough to set me on a road
to recovery one day at a time.
So I ask you to think on this question. What is the title of
your book?
Who holds your pen?
Who holds your pen?
It would still take me 10 years to reach a solution and
freedom but this was the first step.
10 years later my title read….
“Free woman arrives in Pretoria in a state, tightly clutching her pen”
Thursday, June 23, 2016
The Uncarved Block - CC9
I would like to persuade you tonight to stop thinking.
Yes, that's what I said.....to stop thinking.
In the fast moving world of internet, wi-fi, instant messaging and media, this seems crazy. We must keep up, not so?
For a few moments have a look at the uncarved block and clear your mind. *holding up a wooden block*
I have no intention of asking you to empty your mind, instead to FOCUS on this uncarved block.
This block is simple, plain, natural and honest.
The uncarved block represents the idea that things in their original simplicity contain their own natural power which is spoiled when the simplicity of the thing is changed.
In the simplicity lies the power and rising out of that, wisdom.
Think of the spokes of a wheel converging onto the small emtpy center, where the axle fits to hold the whole cart.
Think of a lump of clay that forms a bowl with the empty space being the very thing that makes the bowl useful.
Think of a window frame that holds an open space for light to shine through.
The chinese word for simple, plain, natural and honest is P'u.
Just simply "P'u".
In Benjamin Hoff's book Tao of Pooh, Winnie the pooh is the epitomy of the uncarved block. He is simple and honest, joyful, fun and spontaneous. He is simple-minded but not stupid and from this state of simplicity he accomplishes much.
The thinkers in the story are Eeyore, Rabbit and Owl.
Eeyore accumulates knowledge to be able to complain about something. The "attitude of Eeyore" is a fretful one.
Clever Rabbit accumulates knowledge in the attempt to seem more clever. He tried to oust Kanga and Roo from the forest on the grounds that they were different. Fortunately cleverness has it's limitations and he had to change his mind. Cleverness tends to ignore the reality of "what is".
Owl accumulates knowledge for the sake of appearing wise. He learns intellectually. He compartmentalizes, categorizes and pontificates. He writes long theses about things we don't understand and pretentious papers with very big words. If you look closely at Owls life then you'll see it's a bit of a shambles, helpless and somewhat disorganised.
When the thinkers want to show off their accumulates knowledge they use the uncarved block as their canvas. Accumulated knowledge shows up better when talking with a simple-minded person, not so?
I'll give you an illustration.
Pooh, Owl, Rabbit, Piglet, Kanga, Roo and Eeyore were all just sitting around when Clever Rabbit piped up, "hey Pooh?, do you even know how to spell Tuesday?". Pooh simply looked at him. Owl knew and was excited to say pompously, "Yes of course everyone knows how to spell Tuesday!", "You spell it with a two because it's the second day. Twosday! and of course the next day is Thirdsday!", looking down at Pooh.
Pooh looked simply from one to the next and said, "but today is the day after Tuesday and it's not Thirdsday, I mean Thursday" Piglet piped up and said "It's today!" Pooh agreed and said "Yes! my favourite day!"
The uncarved block is the most important principal for the Chinese philosophy Taoism which is based on the writings of Lao Tzu who wrote the Tao Teh Ching.
The picture of the Vinegar Tasters tells the story.
Three wise men all with their fingers in a pot of vinegar. One with a sour look on his face the other with a bitter look on his face and the third smiling widely.
The vinegar in the pot is the essence of life itself.
The smiling man is Lao Tzu. He believes that we can change "what is" by having an appreciative attitude and accepting the nature of things as they are.
When the mind gets in the way and interferes with "what is" with arrogance and non-appreciation then it makes us bitter and sour.
Everything has a place and function. fish don't fly and birds don't swim. You cannot put a square peg into a round hole.
From the state of the uncarved block comes the ability to enjoy the simple and the quiet and in that stillness wisdom arises. When you respect your Inner Nature then you know where you belong.
You'll see your life causing an effect without doing. (Wu Wei)
You'll begin to live without effort, like water flowing around rocks.
Simple.
Plain.
Natural.
Honest.
********************************
references.....The Tao of Pooh....Benjamin Hoff.
Tao Teh Ching.....Lao Tzu
Thursday, June 9, 2016
I had a lucid dream
My daughter is 27 and I often remark that I should be wearing a WWDD band around my arm. "What would Danny do?" She's often got a very clear wise word and has always struck me as an old soul.
Waking up this morning, but not quite, I always smile to be in a lucid dream.
"I was at a bazaar or at a church fete or a Saturday market of sorts.
I had the kids with me and they were roaming around with their own pocket money and friends, enjoying the freedom to do their own thing. Danny was 10.
I passed a very smart woman with her daughters. They were dressed up in shining clothes and heels. The little girls had makeup on and their hair was sprayed and teassed. I overheard the daughter asking if they would be able to get botox at the market, on her ears because they were sticking out. She stroked her ears gently. I was thinking "what had the world come to?"
I passed Danny every now and then and she gave me a big grin. Her legs striding confidently and her hair long and loose and scruffy. She had on her jodpurs and clunky riding boots. Ice cream in hand, some around her mouth and a balloon on a helium string.
Passing her again I approached as she turned to point her last two inches of cone at me. I walked up to her and had a look. She had scratched out HI on the top of the flattened ice cream in the half eaten cone.
I had chuckle as she bit into the cone and so the greeting disappeared.
As I watched her strut away I wondered at her confidence and safety. I decided to follow her awhile.
I watched as she sat herself down on a bench swinging her feet gently.
A man approached.
He sat down next to her.
I was alert.
He spoke to her and she replied calmly in what seemed to be a long explanation.
He nodded, put some money in her hand and left. She smiled.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I was even more alert.
Another man came and sat down beside her and the same thing happened.
I watched as a few people came and left her and they seemed happier even after putting some money into her hand, which she stuffed into her pocket nonchalantly.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I asked one of the people what was happening at the bench.
The lady smiled.
She's giving us all advice"
Waking up this morning, but not quite, I always smile to be in a lucid dream.
"I was at a bazaar or at a church fete or a Saturday market of sorts.
I had the kids with me and they were roaming around with their own pocket money and friends, enjoying the freedom to do their own thing. Danny was 10.
I passed a very smart woman with her daughters. They were dressed up in shining clothes and heels. The little girls had makeup on and their hair was sprayed and teassed. I overheard the daughter asking if they would be able to get botox at the market, on her ears because they were sticking out. She stroked her ears gently. I was thinking "what had the world come to?"
I passed Danny every now and then and she gave me a big grin. Her legs striding confidently and her hair long and loose and scruffy. She had on her jodpurs and clunky riding boots. Ice cream in hand, some around her mouth and a balloon on a helium string.
Passing her again I approached as she turned to point her last two inches of cone at me. I walked up to her and had a look. She had scratched out HI on the top of the flattened ice cream in the half eaten cone.
I had chuckle as she bit into the cone and so the greeting disappeared.
As I watched her strut away I wondered at her confidence and safety. I decided to follow her awhile.
I watched as she sat herself down on a bench swinging her feet gently.
A man approached.
He sat down next to her.
I was alert.
He spoke to her and she replied calmly in what seemed to be a long explanation.
He nodded, put some money in her hand and left. She smiled.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I was even more alert.
Another man came and sat down beside her and the same thing happened.
I watched as a few people came and left her and they seemed happier even after putting some money into her hand, which she stuffed into her pocket nonchalantly.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I asked one of the people what was happening at the bench.
The lady smiled.
She's giving us all advice"
Sugar Rush - CC7
Mister Toastmaster, Ladies and gentlemen.
with apologies to the medical doctors in the room in case of errors in the process.
with apologies to the medical doctors in the room in case of errors in the process.
Our body needs sugar!
Now I'm sure you never thought I'd say that.
But yes, our body does need sugar. A daily recommended amount of 25g (fructose).
If you think on these foods then you may get an idea of how much sugar that may be.
A half cup of raisons, cranberrys or dates average at 50g of fructose.
A half cup of mango or prunes around 30g, while a cup of pineapple or paw paw, an apple or a banana will give you 15g.
Berries are the winners here at 10g.
So we decide to be more aware and instead of Cola....... #display cola bottle with sugar content# we buy fruit juice......... #display fruitjuice bottle with sugar content# .....(everyone in the audience should hum and haw here as I take out milk cartons, yoghurt tubs and soups with their equivalent sugar content.....)
I think I made my point. (smiling)
So we decide to be more aware and instead of Cola....... #display cola bottle with sugar content# we buy fruit juice......... #display fruitjuice bottle with sugar content# .....(everyone in the audience should hum and haw here as I take out milk cartons, yoghurt tubs and soups with their equivalent sugar content.....)
I think I made my point. (smiling)
There is fructose in 75% of packaged foods and even in ketchup, flavored water and yoghurt.
Sugar can come as sucrose, maltose, fructose, karo syrup, corn syrup or argave nector.
The nutritional value of fructose or sugar is only carbohydrate and nothing else.
Makes me think of Rachel Vincent's comment on her blog, and I quote,
"...and the words melted like sugar on my tongue - sweet yet insubstansial..."
"...and the words melted like sugar on my tongue - sweet yet insubstansial..."
Sugar is produced from sugar cane and sweet beets. The raw product is boiled up and produces a thick black molasses.
The molasses is spun in a drum with a high centrifugal force and dry sugar crystals spin off. The crystals, if not rinsed are "brown sugar" and when rinsed are pure white sugar.
As we put sugar into our mouths, the taste receptors are activated and secrete saliva. Then the dopamine receptors release seratonin. For the amount of sugar we eat, we will have immediate energy. Insulin will be released to regulate the sugar levels. By the way.......Insulin strengthens the synapses in the brain which if optimal will make for better recall and a clear mind. Anyway.......Excess sugar will get stored as glycogen in the liver and will be released as the body needs it.
So right here we can see that we don't need to interfere.
The body has got it.
Probably long before the liver releases the glycogen into the bloodstream as "some other form of sugar the bloodstream can handle", have we reached for the next treat, "to keep us going".
I..... we, then overload on sugar, feeling really good for a short while and then that sugar dumps us.
A feeling of sluggishness, foggy brain, depression sets in. Our tolerance level is lower and we feel "dof". (An Afrikaans slang word meaning thick or stupid)
Actually the body is struggling to process this overload. If we are sitting on the couch you can imagine that it would be far worse to put the body in such a dilemma than if we were running a marathon and the body could use the sugar immediately.
Of course the minute we feel sluggish or tired, the first thing we may reach for is a sugary treat. Here starts a cycle which becomes addictive. Years of sugar spikes and the bodies struggle to keep processing the sugar we are on the way to insulin resistance and possibly diabetes.
Jamie Oliver said, and I quote, "Sugar is the next tobacco it should be taxed like tobacco and anything else that can destroy lives".
Our next option is to go for an artificial sugar, and there are many....with brandnames
sweetex
xylitol
sweet 'n low
necta sweet
canderel
stivia (no not the green plant but the tube of fine white granules) note to self....this comment is optional :-)
nevella
diabetisweet
diabetisweet
equal
sweet 'n "safe" #(implying?)
"nutra"sweet #also implying? not nutritious surely!
but to name a few.
These are "chemically produced" powders!
As soon as we taste this, we trick the taste receptors to activate, which tricks the stimulation of dopamine receptors and which in turn tricks the release of Insulin and the liver prepares to receive any excess........what?........the body is expecting sugar......I can only imagine what confusion ensues.
The Irony of this is that if we continue the sugar rush cycle and create an insulin resistance or diabetes where we have to artificially administer insulin, if we don't get the sugar when we need it, the result is possibly a diabetic coma.
Ladies and gentlemen, I would far rather try and regulate my sugar now than end up creating a nightmare.
Lets change our pallets
from sweet to bland
from sweet to bland
and when we eat an apple
it'll be all too sweet enough.
it'll be all too sweet enough.
Mr. Toastmaster.
(1 1/2 minutes over time....eeeeek...8.27)
Thursday, April 21, 2016
I am here
not only do I exist but I love and I grow
not only do I exist but I give and I sow
not only do I exist but I speak and I write
not only do I exist but I blossom and show
that to hide in shame is shortlived and futile
the day will come when the truth will be crucial
not only do I exist for the pleasure of being me
I exist to reclaim what was stolen
not only do I exist but I give and I sow
not only do I exist but I speak and I write
not only do I exist but I blossom and show
that to hide in shame is shortlived and futile
the day will come when the truth will be crucial
not only do I exist for the pleasure of being me
I exist to reclaim what was stolen
MgM
Torture - the start
ah shame says he
and calls his friends
to watch a poor fly struggle
ah look how sad
he spins around
can't fly away
that's dreadful
you're so caring
they all say
but end it now
and quickly
no no he says
this is such fun
lets see
what happens next
I have his wings
in my small hand
I'll paste them back
a bit later
and calls his friends
to watch a poor fly struggle
ah look how sad
he spins around
can't fly away
that's dreadful
you're so caring
they all say
but end it now
and quickly
no no he says
this is such fun
lets see
what happens next
I have his wings
in my small hand
I'll paste them back
a bit later
MgM (C)
Monday, April 18, 2016
Pierced Power
she the rabbit
soft and innocent
wants only this
to love him
he smiles on dawning
realising this
this thing we can play with
this open heart
this trust
can make an edgy game
come closer
smile
and shoot the dart
grinning at the painful start
only playing says he
come back and cuddle
holding down her foot
watching the struggle
a slice of fear
makes winning even closer
this game is fun
i'll only shave you lightly
hold her down
and shave her naked
laugh at her red face
taking hold of this her shame
that forms a hardened pin
gently smiling
strokes her head
while pushing it deep in
her heart is bleeding
search your face
for small small glimpse
of pity as she slowly dies
she lies quite still
and when it hits him
that this game is over
he stamps his foot
and cries for days
for now there's none to play with
years go by
and slowly slowly
teeth grow where soft lips kissed
life is breathed
and standing high
her softness huge and lovely
but the teeth
the size of shark fins
stand out bright and ready
he sees and hides
as bullies do
his fear
is her protection
and the power
is in the potential
but she'll hold back
she knows the trap
resisting retaliation
is victory
soft and innocent
wants only this
to love him
he smiles on dawning
realising this
this thing we can play with
this open heart
this trust
can make an edgy game
come closer
smile
and shoot the dart
grinning at the painful start
only playing says he
come back and cuddle
holding down her foot
watching the struggle
a slice of fear
makes winning even closer
this game is fun
i'll only shave you lightly
hold her down
and shave her naked
laugh at her red face
taking hold of this her shame
that forms a hardened pin
gently smiling
strokes her head
while pushing it deep in
her heart is bleeding
search your face
for small small glimpse
of pity as she slowly dies
she lies quite still
and when it hits him
that this game is over
he stamps his foot
and cries for days
for now there's none to play with
years go by
and slowly slowly
teeth grow where soft lips kissed
life is breathed
and standing high
her softness huge and lovely
but the teeth
the size of shark fins
stand out bright and ready
he sees and hides
as bullies do
his fear
is her protection
and the power
is in the potential
but she'll hold back
she knows the trap
resisting retaliation
is victory
Friday, April 15, 2016
Coffee Snob - CC5
The relationship started at the office coffee dispenser many years ago.
It was instant.
One click of coffee.Three clicks of milk. Three clicks of sugar.
Six times a day!......into a paper cup.
Mr. Toastmaster, ladies and gentlemen,
Let me ask you this.....
If coffee is a drink made from roasted coffee beans, which are the seeds from the berries of the coffee plant, then what is instant coffee?
Instant coffee is a combination of roasted robusta beans and chicory.
Robusta beans are bitter and high in caffeine. Chicory is the root of the endive plant, which is a kind of lettuce. The chicory root is roasted and toasted and added to roasted robusta beans as a filler. Chicory masks the taste of the cheaper beans and can be used as a substitute for coffee.
The first thing that hits you when you walk into a roastery is the smell.
The gloriously rich smell of freshly roasted coffee beans.
The full hessian coffee bags with labels from countries all over the world are piled up and ready to process.
The ladies at the roastery were very proud of the 100% arabica status and explained to me....
Robusta beans are a lot cheaper to farm than arabica beans. Apparently they taste like burnt tyres and are repellant to insects. Robusta beans are used as a filler to add to the arabica beans to bulk up the coffee and popular with an Italian blend for the high caffeine content. The arabica bean has 1.5% caffeine to the robusta bean's 2.7% caffeine. Arabica beans have more lipids (oils) and more sugar and are more costly to farm.
I left with a plunger and a few bags of ground coffee - 100% arabica of course!
A few more visits to the roastery and I wanted that smell in my house.
So, I left with a packet of beans, to buy myself a grinder.
There are two options, a blade grinder and a burr mill grinder.
The blade grinder has basically no respect for the coffee bean whatsoever.
The blade chops wildly and ungraciously at the coffee bean, slashing it in the most irreverend and unholy way.
A burr mill grinder on the other hand wraps around the bean drawing it into itself, breaking them passionately and evenly. The beans are bruised and crushed to your perfect setting.
Of course......
I bought a burr mill grinder for better flavor and even grinding.
Have you noticed that the selection of coffees in a restaurant is much greater than years gone by and is almost as long as the wine list?
The man (or woman) driving the espresso machine is the barista. (from the Italian "barman")
Espresso, double espresso, compressed espresso each with an appropriately delicious name.
The well loved cappuccino with foam or steamed milk, a milky latte, add heavy cream or whipped cream, condensed milk and ice cream.....not to mention the moccas' which include chocolate and then the coffees with alcohol...the combinations are wonderful and many.
The barista my friend, can also give you a "black eye"!
He would prepare you a regular black coffee topped with a double espresso.
....and if that doesn't wake you up then nothing will.
He regulates the temperature of the water, which is forced, under pressure, through the perfectly packed coffee.
He also creates your foam art.
At first there were only ferns.
After a while we had hearts.
Then there were faces and landscapes, cats and dogs, monkeys and planets.
This art can be seen all over the social media of facebook and twitter to pinterest and instagram.
Put up your hands anyone who HASN'T posted foam art somewhere.
Today I am more in love than ever..... from the first attraction at the instant coffee dispenser many years ago, to today and when a waiter approaches me.....I know exactly what I want.
Please darling,
it's an americano black.
No milk.
No sugar.
.....and that's that!
It was instant.
One click of coffee.Three clicks of milk. Three clicks of sugar.
Six times a day!......into a paper cup.
Mr. Toastmaster, ladies and gentlemen,
Let me ask you this.....
If coffee is a drink made from roasted coffee beans, which are the seeds from the berries of the coffee plant, then what is instant coffee?
Instant coffee is a combination of roasted robusta beans and chicory.
Robusta beans are bitter and high in caffeine. Chicory is the root of the endive plant, which is a kind of lettuce. The chicory root is roasted and toasted and added to roasted robusta beans as a filler. Chicory masks the taste of the cheaper beans and can be used as a substitute for coffee.
The first thing that hits you when you walk into a roastery is the smell.
The gloriously rich smell of freshly roasted coffee beans.
The full hessian coffee bags with labels from countries all over the world are piled up and ready to process.
The ladies at the roastery were very proud of the 100% arabica status and explained to me....
Robusta beans are a lot cheaper to farm than arabica beans. Apparently they taste like burnt tyres and are repellant to insects. Robusta beans are used as a filler to add to the arabica beans to bulk up the coffee and popular with an Italian blend for the high caffeine content. The arabica bean has 1.5% caffeine to the robusta bean's 2.7% caffeine. Arabica beans have more lipids (oils) and more sugar and are more costly to farm.
I left with a plunger and a few bags of ground coffee - 100% arabica of course!
A few more visits to the roastery and I wanted that smell in my house.
So, I left with a packet of beans, to buy myself a grinder.
There are two options, a blade grinder and a burr mill grinder.
The blade grinder has basically no respect for the coffee bean whatsoever.
The blade chops wildly and ungraciously at the coffee bean, slashing it in the most irreverend and unholy way.
A burr mill grinder on the other hand wraps around the bean drawing it into itself, breaking them passionately and evenly. The beans are bruised and crushed to your perfect setting.
Of course......
I bought a burr mill grinder for better flavor and even grinding.
Have you noticed that the selection of coffees in a restaurant is much greater than years gone by and is almost as long as the wine list?
The man (or woman) driving the espresso machine is the barista. (from the Italian "barman")
Espresso, double espresso, compressed espresso each with an appropriately delicious name.
The well loved cappuccino with foam or steamed milk, a milky latte, add heavy cream or whipped cream, condensed milk and ice cream.....not to mention the moccas' which include chocolate and then the coffees with alcohol...the combinations are wonderful and many.
The barista my friend, can also give you a "black eye"!
He would prepare you a regular black coffee topped with a double espresso.
....and if that doesn't wake you up then nothing will.
He regulates the temperature of the water, which is forced, under pressure, through the perfectly packed coffee.
He also creates your foam art.
At first there were only ferns.
After a while we had hearts.
Then there were faces and landscapes, cats and dogs, monkeys and planets.
This art can be seen all over the social media of facebook and twitter to pinterest and instagram.
Put up your hands anyone who HASN'T posted foam art somewhere.
Today I am more in love than ever..... from the first attraction at the instant coffee dispenser many years ago, to today and when a waiter approaches me.....I know exactly what I want.
Please darling,
it's an americano black.
No milk.
No sugar.
.....and that's that!
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Snakes Alive! Dead? or Shed - CC6
How would you react to hearing the word "Snake"?
I see some shudders and some scowls. Gooseflesh?
How would you react to seeing a snake.
Jump and scream out loud or take tiny mincing steps in reverse?
You could well be very excited and even be filled with a sense of joy.
What would you do?
Try and beat it to death or let it go on it's way?
On the farm I had to discourage the gardener from flattening a snake so flat from top to toe that you could use it as a tie.
There would be loud gesticulating and pointing as I drove in the driveway and there it was hanging on the fence.
My children loved snakes and kept them for many years.
Pythons, skaapstekers, brown house, mole snakes, redlips and anacondas all passed through their hands.
They would be delighted to see a snake and expectant if a rock was upturned to find slithering treasure.
They had a bag which looked like a windsock attached to a broomstick and would present the dark hole to an escaping snake. The snake would inevitably seek refuge there and they "had it in the bag" so to speak.
Bringing boys home from school on a visiting weekend would produce tied socks inhabited by wriggling pets. I would often have to free wheel down van Reenen's pass while they located the escaped reptile.
I started off being very fearful of snakes, got used to them, realising that they were an important part of the eco system and of maintaining balance.
I recently moved house and went into the shed to find white paint. I was rummaging around moving boxes and pulling away old carpets, saw a snakeskin, thought, "how cool", carried on rummaging and........the penny dropped!
A snakeskin.
So I froze.
Except for goosebumps covering my whole body I was very still.
My eyeballs scanned left to right, up and down as my body stayed in perched position.
I very slowly started to reverse and at the door shouted out loudly, "Is there a snake in here?"
I listened and definitely heard a rustling.
I wasn't sure why I thought the snake would understand the question but obviously some parts of the brain don't function as they should all the time. I shouted out the question again and again I heard the rustling.
I phoned a friend who was thankfully close by and he arrived with boots, goggles, gloves, the snake pole and a bag.
We carefully packed out the shed, keeping our eyes peeled until the shed was empty.
There was no snake.
I was more than a little embarrassed but packed everything back and bought the man a six pack of beer.
My first encounter with a snake was the biblical version which of course was deceptive, evil and cursed.
Historically snakes represent fertility or a creative life force.
A snake is a very good mother.
In Jeremy Narby's book Cosmic Serpent the DNA strands are depicted by snakes as the "origins of knowledge". This would fit in with Amazonian Shamanic ceremony where the snake represents the mother energy and is wise, supportive and knowledgeable. The snake represents regeneration and healing.
I would encourage you next time you hear the word snake or see a snake to realise it's importance and the fact that it has no concern with you.
Let the snake pass to live another day.
I will also allow the snake, if and when it appears to stay in my shed.
I see some shudders and some scowls. Gooseflesh?
How would you react to seeing a snake.
Jump and scream out loud or take tiny mincing steps in reverse?
You could well be very excited and even be filled with a sense of joy.
What would you do?
Try and beat it to death or let it go on it's way?
On the farm I had to discourage the gardener from flattening a snake so flat from top to toe that you could use it as a tie.
There would be loud gesticulating and pointing as I drove in the driveway and there it was hanging on the fence.
My children loved snakes and kept them for many years.
Pythons, skaapstekers, brown house, mole snakes, redlips and anacondas all passed through their hands.
They would be delighted to see a snake and expectant if a rock was upturned to find slithering treasure.
They had a bag which looked like a windsock attached to a broomstick and would present the dark hole to an escaping snake. The snake would inevitably seek refuge there and they "had it in the bag" so to speak.
Bringing boys home from school on a visiting weekend would produce tied socks inhabited by wriggling pets. I would often have to free wheel down van Reenen's pass while they located the escaped reptile.
I started off being very fearful of snakes, got used to them, realising that they were an important part of the eco system and of maintaining balance.
I recently moved house and went into the shed to find white paint. I was rummaging around moving boxes and pulling away old carpets, saw a snakeskin, thought, "how cool", carried on rummaging and........the penny dropped!
A snakeskin.
So I froze.
Except for goosebumps covering my whole body I was very still.
My eyeballs scanned left to right, up and down as my body stayed in perched position.
I very slowly started to reverse and at the door shouted out loudly, "Is there a snake in here?"
I listened and definitely heard a rustling.
I wasn't sure why I thought the snake would understand the question but obviously some parts of the brain don't function as they should all the time. I shouted out the question again and again I heard the rustling.
I phoned a friend who was thankfully close by and he arrived with boots, goggles, gloves, the snake pole and a bag.
We carefully packed out the shed, keeping our eyes peeled until the shed was empty.
There was no snake.
I was more than a little embarrassed but packed everything back and bought the man a six pack of beer.
My first encounter with a snake was the biblical version which of course was deceptive, evil and cursed.
Historically snakes represent fertility or a creative life force.
A snake is a very good mother.
In Jeremy Narby's book Cosmic Serpent the DNA strands are depicted by snakes as the "origins of knowledge". This would fit in with Amazonian Shamanic ceremony where the snake represents the mother energy and is wise, supportive and knowledgeable. The snake represents regeneration and healing.
I would encourage you next time you hear the word snake or see a snake to realise it's importance and the fact that it has no concern with you.
Let the snake pass to live another day.
I will also allow the snake, if and when it appears to stay in my shed.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Snap, Crackle and Pop - CC4
The first silent movie started with snap, crackle and a very loong silence. A silence of under a minute.
Without sound how are we supposed to know when to be scared?
Without sound how are we supposed to know when the great white shark is close?
The silent movie era was roughly between the years 1920 - 1929. The pre-dialogue era. A black and white movie with or without sound, some sound effects and sometimes piano accompaniment.
* Charlie Chaplin in "City Lights" screened with sound effects.
* "Earth", a carnal drama about birth and death was popular. How, I wonder, does one hear a murder without a scream? Imagine a death without wailing.
* Orson Welles's "The General" was an hilarious comedy but imagine a "slap" without a sound and you try and loud with out making a sound.
* Mention "The passion of Joan of Arc" and a picture is formed of a blazing pire but without sound seems to lose it's heat.
A solo pianist was often employed and a good one would be able to synchronize a crashing chord with the jalopy falling off the edge of a steep cliff. Harpo Marx had the shortest career as a solo pianist for silent movies. He lasted all of 2 weeks with his 2 songs. He would rotate through the pieces, one, a waltz, throughout the movie. Slowing down at sad parts, speeding up for action. Louder for anger and softer for romance. A good band would supply music appropriate for tension, romance and thrills. The percussionist had a "toy counter" to create effects of gunshots and church bells. A sharp pluck on the high string of a harp could create an icy backdrop and a strum on the Cello, a macabre and gloomy feel.
The first popular technicolor movie was in 1939. The Wizard of Oz was the latest and the first success story. A 3-strip movie where 3 films were played through the camera at the same time. One held all the Red, another the green and another the blue color. The camera was large, loud and expensive. Gone with the wind another and better so for how does one blush in black and white?
Do you remember the home movies in the 60's? The huge projector with the massive reels of film. There again the loading and "lights!" and snap, crackle and heaven......a full length color film in the comfort of your own home. The whirring and clicking throughout was ignored and at some stage the film would burn and flap around on the reel. After splicing and taping, which we called "interval", the movie would continue......and we had popcorn.
The drive-in in those years, with the undulating tarred mounds and sound poles is almost forgotten. The smell of boerewors and boiled eggs in a car full of kids.
In around 2002 Imax the surround sound mega movie came to South Africa. The first Imax was screened in the Japanese '70's expo. We first saw Apolla 13 and Star Wars in this way and the aim was to see more, hear more and feel more. The screen is 4500 times bigger than the average tv, 8 storeys high with 16 amplifiers and 44 speakers.
By 2006 the cinemas were replacing film reel with digital and in 2007 3D was screened by SterKinekor. The biggest was the epic movie Avatar. 3D motion picture enhanced the illusion of depth perception and an arm reaching out would seem to "grab" you.
In 2016 I saw the very amazing and latest in viewing pleasure "Star Wars- reawakening of the Force" in Imax 3D. Battlestar Galactica came so close that I had to shift away. The droids passed so close to the side of my head, I could almost feel my hair move. The battleships flew right over and I had to duck.
....but wait there's more. Coming to us in time and already in the USA is 4Dx with "environmental effects" like seat motion, wind, fog and rain. You will also be able to smell the roses and the bagels.
Now we will be able to See more, hear more, feel more and smell more with every snap, every crack, every pin drop and every pop.
Without sound how are we supposed to know when to be scared?
Without sound how are we supposed to know when the great white shark is close?
The silent movie era was roughly between the years 1920 - 1929. The pre-dialogue era. A black and white movie with or without sound, some sound effects and sometimes piano accompaniment.
* Charlie Chaplin in "City Lights" screened with sound effects.
* "Earth", a carnal drama about birth and death was popular. How, I wonder, does one hear a murder without a scream? Imagine a death without wailing.
* Orson Welles's "The General" was an hilarious comedy but imagine a "slap" without a sound and you try and loud with out making a sound.
* Mention "The passion of Joan of Arc" and a picture is formed of a blazing pire but without sound seems to lose it's heat.
A solo pianist was often employed and a good one would be able to synchronize a crashing chord with the jalopy falling off the edge of a steep cliff. Harpo Marx had the shortest career as a solo pianist for silent movies. He lasted all of 2 weeks with his 2 songs. He would rotate through the pieces, one, a waltz, throughout the movie. Slowing down at sad parts, speeding up for action. Louder for anger and softer for romance. A good band would supply music appropriate for tension, romance and thrills. The percussionist had a "toy counter" to create effects of gunshots and church bells. A sharp pluck on the high string of a harp could create an icy backdrop and a strum on the Cello, a macabre and gloomy feel.
The first popular technicolor movie was in 1939. The Wizard of Oz was the latest and the first success story. A 3-strip movie where 3 films were played through the camera at the same time. One held all the Red, another the green and another the blue color. The camera was large, loud and expensive. Gone with the wind another and better so for how does one blush in black and white?
Do you remember the home movies in the 60's? The huge projector with the massive reels of film. There again the loading and "lights!" and snap, crackle and heaven......a full length color film in the comfort of your own home. The whirring and clicking throughout was ignored and at some stage the film would burn and flap around on the reel. After splicing and taping, which we called "interval", the movie would continue......and we had popcorn.
The drive-in in those years, with the undulating tarred mounds and sound poles is almost forgotten. The smell of boerewors and boiled eggs in a car full of kids.
In around 2002 Imax the surround sound mega movie came to South Africa. The first Imax was screened in the Japanese '70's expo. We first saw Apolla 13 and Star Wars in this way and the aim was to see more, hear more and feel more. The screen is 4500 times bigger than the average tv, 8 storeys high with 16 amplifiers and 44 speakers.
By 2006 the cinemas were replacing film reel with digital and in 2007 3D was screened by SterKinekor. The biggest was the epic movie Avatar. 3D motion picture enhanced the illusion of depth perception and an arm reaching out would seem to "grab" you.
In 2016 I saw the very amazing and latest in viewing pleasure "Star Wars- reawakening of the Force" in Imax 3D. Battlestar Galactica came so close that I had to shift away. The droids passed so close to the side of my head, I could almost feel my hair move. The battleships flew right over and I had to duck.
....but wait there's more. Coming to us in time and already in the USA is 4Dx with "environmental effects" like seat motion, wind, fog and rain. You will also be able to smell the roses and the bagels.
Now we will be able to See more, hear more, feel more and smell more with every snap, every crack, every pin drop and every pop.
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