Magically Delicious

When I was in second grade our class did a play. My teacher insisted that I was the Irishman—or Irish girl who danced a jig because my name was Colleen and I had a streak of red in my hair. A lot of genealogy has never taken me back to the emerald island but I think that we all occasionally feel a wee bit Irish. Irish music speaks to our souls and Irish stories resonate with us as if we have heard them before. Dreams of Gold is retold in the modern story Acres of Diamonds. We all search the world over for treasure and happiness only to eventually find it is our own backyard. Usheens Return to Ireland has images of Rip Van Winkle. The Birth of Finn MacCumhail is Homeric. We sense Odysseus and Beowulf in the wings. And smile as we hear strains of O Brother Where Art Thou in the back of our mind. The Man Who Had No Story teaches us that we all have a story to tell.

Jane Yolen in Favorite Folktales From Around the World relates the following story. The famous philosopher William James had just finished a lecture when an older woman came up to him and said that he was wrong, the earth did not revolve around the sun. He asked the lady how the earth moved? She said, “The earth sits on the back of a turtle”. So he asked and what does the turtle stand on? And she said, "on the back of another turtle". James continued relentlessly, so what does that turtle stand on? The old woman drew herself and said, “It is no use Mr. James, it is turtles all the way down.” Ms. Yolen then explains, it is the same with literature; it is stories on the back of stories all the way down.

Irish Folktales speak to us because we have all looked at a rainbow and hoped for a pot of gold. The King of Ireland's Son like Finian’s Rainbow features "a little green man" coming to the hero’s aid. Since we all were raised on “pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers” these Irish Tales remind us of a magical isle where fairies and leprechauns and druids and heroes still live.

Sacred Spaces

As I look out my back windows, I can see a new temple overlooking the valley where I live. In my LDS culture this temple is a sacred place and holds a central place in our beliefs. There is much meaning and symbolism associated with this building. As we have continued our study of Japanese theater and the plays of Noh and Kyogen, I have seen many similarities to the temple of my religion and the Noh stage of Japanese theater. Both are sacred spaces and both have their roots in ancient temple traditions. The Noh stage is based on Buddhist temples and the LDS temple is based in the Old Testament tradition of Solomon’s temple.



The Noh stage is open on three sides to the audience. Each side of the square stage is 5.5 meters long. The Noh temple is built of cypress wood as was Solomon’s temple. The Noh stage has four pillars. One of these pillars called “the sighting pillar” helps the actor to position himself on stage. The two pillars of Solomon’s temple, Jachin and Boaz, were symbols of continuity and endurance. The back wall of a Noh stage features a pine tree. This pine tree is painted by a special group of specially trained artists. It is a symbol of unchanging green and strength. Likewise the walls of Solomon’s temple were covered with palm trees. An integral part of the Noh stage is the bridgeway leading to the stage. This is where the actors enter and leave. Along the bridgeway are three pine trees in graduated sizes representing heaven, earth and man. The actors enter and leave the stage through a multi-colored curtain. Behind the curtain they stand in a mirrored room where they look at themselves and contemplate the role they are about to play. We can see the similarities between this curtain and the sacred veil of Solomon’s temple.

The Noh stage, like the temple in my backyard and ancient Solomon’s temple, are all sacred spaces, liminal in nature, connecting heaven and earth. Benito Ortolani explains,

“The noh stage creates a sacred space, set apart for the projection into our dimension of the “other dimension” outside our time-a space within the ritual frame of the illud tempus. The importance of the journey that occurs in shamanism and noh has been also underlined. In some cases the shaman travels in spirit to the other world and there meets gods and departed souls from whom he later relays message to the faithful. Such a journey also takes place at the beginning of noh plays.”

Anciently and today temples serve as a place where heaven and earth meet. Likewise, seeing similarities in my religious traditions and those of Japanese helps to bridge the gap between our cultures. In respecting our unique sacred places not only can heaven meet earth but also east can meet west.

Dying Laughing

As my sisters and I gathered around my father’s coffin, shortly after he passed away, we were all slightly taken back by the smile on his face. We commented to the mortician on how nice of a smile he had put on his face. The mortician laughed and said that he had nothing to do with it; whatever expression was on my father’s face when he died was what we were seeing. My father seldom seemed to smile and so the peaceful look on his face seemed very comforting at the time. Fast forward fourteen years and my sisters and I were gathered in another funeral home talking about our grandmother who had just passed away. It was a peaceful time and happy thoughts mingled with laughter. As we caught ourselves, the mortician came up and said, “It’s o.k. girls, you know that if you mix up the letters in the word “Funeral” it spells “Real Fun.” Friedrich Nietzsche said, “Perhaps I know why it is man alone who laughs: He alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.”

Laughter and tears are inextricably connected. This week as we have studied Japanese theater I am reminded of the need for both. Benito Ortolani writes in The Japanese Theater: From Shamanistic Ritual to Contemporary, “There is a standard pattern to all Japanese festivals since time immemorial-the combination of serious ritual with comic amusement.” This combination is best demonstrated in the twin sisters of Noh and Kyogen. Noh is a serious religious play, which is broken by the comic relief of Kyogen. Both are performed on the same stage and share similar formal structure, training and basic movements. Manzo Nomura one of the greatest modern Kyogen actors speaks of the Yin of Noh and the Yang of Kyogen. Kyogen in Japanese culture is an ancient form of comedy that has withstood the test of time.

Laughter is universal. It is common to all languages and cultures and can cross boundaries. Humor though is more often rooted in culture. Both have deep roots in truth. Something usually strikes our funny bone if it is based on truth. Often the comedian tells us more about ourselves, our culture, our fears and our desires than any psychiatrist or philosopher. Saturday Night Live is more revelatory than McNeil/Lehrer. Laughter is the coping mechanism that has been show to relieve stress, strengthen our immune system and foster instant relaxation. In the seriousness of life, it does us good to remember that we all need an intermission. Every Noh play needs Kyogen and every Presidential debate needs Tina Fey.

Creating a Better World

Many years ago, while an undergraduate student, a senseless robbery occurred in our small college town. A fellow student, who was a young father, was gunned down as he was taking a deposit to the bank for his employer. I remember the shock on the campus that such a senseless crime had occurred. What I remember even more was the words of our university president as he addressed the student body the next day. He said, “There are two kinds of people in this world, those who create and those who destroy.” He then admonished us to always be the kind of people who create.

Over the years, as I have been a keen observer of human nature, I have found these words to continue to ring true. There are only two kinds of people, those who create and those who destroy. It is impossible to do both at the same time. Whether I have been working in the business world, developing family relationships or writing a story, I know that you cannot create and destroy at the same time. The two great powers that control this universe remain two separate and distinct entities, the Creator and the Destroyer.

This past week, I have continued to immerse myself in the world of art as I read and study great artists of the past, as I view videos on African Dance and as I struggle to capture the beauty that surrounds me at this time of year through word, paint and photography. In the middle of all this, as part of my studies, I was asked to view the movie, Hotel Rwanda. This movie vividly depicts the Rwandan genocide of 1994. As I contemplated the relationship between African dance and the atrocities committed in Rwanda and throughout the world, I once again heard the words “you cannot create and destroy at the same time.” When a country is building, growing, developing it is not killing off its most valuable resource. Likewise, when a person is building, growing, developing, and creating there is little time left for backbiting, criticizing, undermining, and other activities that destroy our spirit or those around us.

Ellen Dissanyke in What is Art For lists several reasons that we create. She says,

1) Art can restore significance, value, integrity and sensuality and the emotional power of things.
2) Art exercises and trains our perceptions of reality.
3) Art echoes or reflects the natural world.
4) Art is therapeutic. It integrates powerful, contradictory and disturbing feelings.
5) Art gives order to the world.
6) Art arouses sympathy or fellow feelings among people.

Finally, Ms. Dissanyke says, “Art provides a sense of meaning or significance or intensity to human life that cannot be gained in any other way. Persons who feel assured of this meaning are more likely to accept the periods when there are difficulties and problems in life.”

Who knew there was so much power in a box of crayons!!

Dancing His Heart Out

Shortly after the birth of our son and his subsequent diagnoses of Down Syndrome, a kind, older nurse came into my hospital room. As I sat there with tears in my eyes, she tended to my needs and tried to make conversation during an awkward moment. She told me that when she was in nurse's training she had worked at a developmental center and all she could remember about the mongoloids was that they could knit and they could dance! Note to all medical professionals: One-NEVER use the word mongoloid, two-never tell a mother that her first born son will be a proficient knitter and three—kids with Down Syndrome DO love to dance.

Andy started dancing long before he could walk. He loves to dance and is, in fact, a very good dancer. Many a family party has risen to a new level of fun because of Andy’s love for music and dance. Many high school proms have been enlivened by Andy’s willingness to dance every single dance. Many a wedding guest has had the privilege of “cutting the rug” with Andy. Dancing comes naturally and joyfully to Andy.

In my study of African Dance this week, I have learned something that helps me to appreciate Andy’s love of dance on a deeper level. “Dance,” Robert Nicholls writes, “is a psycho-social device able to penetrate many aspects of human existence.” Omofolabo Soyinka Ajayi explains, “Dance is a vehicle of communication. It is able to express an action, an idea. As a sign, dance is a multi-communicative channel, transmitting information not only through time and space but also kinetically, visually and through human sensorial perceptions. Its versatility as a multi-channel system make dance a communication powerhouse able to give information at many different levels simultaneously.”

Oh, how desperately Andy needs this communication powerhouse in a body that struggles endlessly to convey the feelings of his heart. Speech and hearing are perhaps the greatest physical challenges faced by people with Down Syndrome. At an early age, most are taught sign language as a means of making their most basic needs known. As Andy’s mother, I am usually able to translate what Andy is saying to those who may not be familiar with his forms of speech. However, many a tear filled afternoon has occurred as we have labored intensely to find the sounds and the words to express an unfilled need. A person who is blind may be compensated by a heightened sense of touch and hearing. Perhaps those who cannot communicate verbally are compensated kinetically so that they too can express feelings such as happiness, joy and sorrow?

Through the years, I have come to realize that the “differences” of people with Down Syndrome and myself is very minimal. Instead, we are exactly alike in so many ways. Could it be that I, too, have a hard time communicating my deepest feelings? Doesn’t finding the sounds and words to convey the feelings of my heart reach tear-filled intensity at times? These are the moments that I long for a communication powerhouse to transport me across the gulf of unexpressed feelings. Maybe next time I am feeling blue, or happy, or frustrated, I will be more like Andy and close my bedroom door, crank up the music, and communicate to my hearts content.

MySpace

Generally, when I am looking inward and analyzing myself, I do it from a Judeo-Christian perspective (Am I nice? Am I honest? Are my thoughts pure?) or I may do it from a psychoanalytic perspective (Did my mother cause this? Am I meeting the needs of my inner child? Am I just hopelessly screwed?). Up to this point, I have not often analyzed my quirks and idiosyncrasies from a bio-evolutionary perspective. But hey, I am open-minded, whatever works! This week after reading What is Art For? by Ellen Dissanyake and The Silent Language and The Hidden Dimension by Edward Hall I am coming to understand that some behavioral roots go much deeper than my parents.

One area in which we may be more in tune with our animal ancestors than we like to admit is in the area of territoriality. Edward Hall explains, “Every living thing has a physical boundary that separates it from its external environment, beginning with bacteria and ending with humans...A short distance up the phylogenetic scale, however another, non-physical boundary appears that exists outside the physical one. This new boundary is harder to delimit than the first but is just as real. We call this the organisms” territory.” To simplify I will just call it MySpace. Cats mark MySpace, Dogs defend MySpace, and birds return each year to MySpace. I am just realizing that I also have a MySpace that at times elicits an almost primal response when it is violated.

Mr. Hall then continues on, “Most American women have very strong feelings about their kitchens. Even a mother can’t come in and wash the dishes in her daughter’s kitchen without annoying her. The kitchen is the place where ‘who will dominate’ is settled. All women know this, and some an even talk about it. Daughters who can’t keep control of their kitchen will be forever under the thumb of any woman who can move into this area.”

I will not go so far as to keep anyone who wishes from coming into my kitchen and washing my dishes, but I believe Mr. Hall’s point does ring a chord of truth with all of us. We each have a MySpace which is our territory that when violated brings out an often suppressed emotional response. For the guys it may be their garage or workbench. Even kids have a closet or drawer that, no matter how messy, they do no want to be disturbed. I recently had an experience that drove this concept home to me even though at the time I couldn’t put a finger on my reaction. We recently bought a vacation home from the bank. It wasn’t a conventional transaction and several parties were involved including the financial institution and a bitterly, divorcing couple. Several weeks after closing on the property, the wife came to pick up a large pile of belongings that had been left in the home. After inviting her in she went in the kitchen and began to open cupboards and drawers as if looking for something. I even surprised myself with the strong emotional feelings I had. I very firmly told her that her things were no longer in the kitchen and she needed to leave immediately. In the jungle we would have been just two lionesses defending the territory we both claimed as our own. I could feel the hair on my neck rising and the adrenalin surging through my system. I recognized this feeling as one that I had experienced at other times in my life when someone has invaded MySpace.

Whether your MySpace is the area immediately around your body, a favorite chair or a whole bedroom that you call your own, it is important that you recognize it for what it is. It is also important that we understand MySpace as it relates to other members of our family and to our culture as a whole. Reactions to violations of MySpace aren’t always kind, they aren’t always logical but they certainly are natural.

Revealing All

Blogs are funny things. Are they for online journals? Newsletters? Political rantings? Gripe sessions? And who is reading them anyway? My mom? My professor? My neighbor? My kids? Some psycho computer geek with a penchant for a middle aged grandma? With so many questions unanswered it really leaves one in a quandary as how much of ones inner-life to share with the whole world but since, in this unusual case, my art class grade depends on it, here it goes. Besides hasn’t much of great art through the ages depended on someone being willing to “bare all” so to speak?

In reflecting back on my own “artistic journey,” I think that, perhaps, it came to a screeching halt somewhere around ninth grade. Prior to that time, I spent a great deal of time in the arts. I loved working in clay, dabbling with paints, carving a piece of wood, or dancing to Tchaikovsky. The art rooms were my refuge in the junior high world. Then we moved. I remember registering for an art class at my new high school. On the first day, the teacher arranged our seats in a circle, put a horse’s saddle in the middle of the room and told us to draw it. My hands simply could not translate what my eyes were seeing to the paper. Within days I dropped the class and with it my desire to be myself; to create for the love of it. Comparing my talents to the rest of those in the circle consumed me.

Fast forward, thirty something years later to one of those ‘aha” moments when I figured out something about art and about myself. Somewhere around adolescence we change our perception of the world from one-dimensional to three-dimensional. We are no longer satisfied with simple line drawings and cartoon figures. Our world takes on texture, shading, space and perspective. Without the guiding hand of a teacher or mentor we simply do not know how to translate what we are seeing with our eyes to the paper in front of us; both in our lives and in our artwork. Our stories remain flat, our pictures remain childish and our confidence is shaken.

Every teen needs someone to guide them. Every young Virgil needs a Beatrice. Everyone needs someone to restore their confidence during vulnerable times. They need someone to help translate what they are seeing with their eyes to what can be created with their hearts and hands. They need to make the transition from a one-dimensional world to a three-dimensional one whether it is through a painting or a relationship. Each of us must somehow pass on the skills we have developed to a struggling artist or student or friend so that they too can express their deepest emotions in whatever medium they choose.