Thinking Out Loud

I love spring...a chance to get outside after a long, barren winter and work in my flowerbeds. I love the warmth of the sun and the promise of new life as I see my daffodils popping out of the ground. A person's life is often compared to the four seasons, but can one really have the promise of spring and the birth of new life after reaching the late summer or early fall of their own life? Jessica said she was going to serve John spaghetti and Prego sauce for a week until he figured out she was pregnant...would my family ever guess about me if I served that every day for a month? I always said I wanted seven children, just like "The Sound of Music". Maria wasn't very old when she married Captain Von Trapp...Do you think she had more children but they just didn't make a sequel? I worked with a girl in college who was expecting her first child, the first grandchild, at about the same time as her mom was expecting her 16th child. Has anyone ever had a baby after their SIXTH grandchild was born? Another Rodgers and Hammerstein musical was "Cinderella". She sings a song called "Impossible"... "But the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules and won't believe what sensible people say...impossible things are happening every day!" I told my sisters that I thought blogging might be for the younger generation, I just couldn't keep up. Maybe I can keep up with them! One thing is for sure, if I am going to raise children in this blogging generation, I better learn how to do it myself!

Passing the Torch

It seems that whatever genes (or desires) I have to express myself on paper have filtered on to the next generation. Heather had her first article published at Segullah. You can read it here. (Please have a tissue close at hand). Trevor is the editor of his school newspaper and can make any subject interesting with his wit and wisdom.

AA (Amazon Anonymous)

My name is Colleen and I am an addict. After surfing the net and confronting my demons, I am ready to admit that the problem has become bigger than I am.

Signs of addiction:

1) A person has no control (especially since my credit card is on file and I am only one click away from anything I want).
2) A person needs larger and larger doses to get the same effect (I have a book in my car, ten by the bed, fifteen in the office).
3) A person may experience withdrawal symptoms of agitation and shaking (and inability to do laundry and dishes).
4) A person may experience sudden weight gain or weight loss (it is definitely “weight gain” which has not been helped by the two pound box of truffles hidden in my closet).
5) A person will show changes in clothing (Changes in clothing? I don’t even change my clothes anymore).
6) A person may become sneaky and evasive (and hide out at the cabin away from friends and family in order to finish Albion’s Seed)
7) A person "uses" in order to relieve stress and forget problems (and escape frigid January days).

And the most telling sign of all—collecting Librarian Action Figures.

God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference. (And the ability to pay my very large fine at the library)

Cabin Poetry

This is the house that Steve bought!
These are the men that chop the wood,
that warms the house that Steve bought!
These are the trucks that carry the men,
that chop the wood, that warms the house,
that Steve bought!
This is the river that runs by the house that Steve bought!


These are the fish, that were caught in the river that runs by the house that Steve bought!

This is the kitchen, where we cook the fish, that feed the boys, who chop the wood and drive the trucks, who come to the house that Steve bought!
This is the rat that lived in the kitchen that cooked the fish, that.....that Steve bought!This is the cat that is supposed to chase the rat, that lived in the kitchen, that ....!


This is the picture that Katelyn took, that ends this blog, that took much too long, but got me back online, and made me want to go back and sleep in the house that Steve bought!

Through the Looking Glass

This week I have been studying the Cultural Arts of Mexico. As part of this unit we have been learning about Dia de Muertos-The Day of the Dead. This holiday is celebrated between October 31 and November 2. In Mexico and in Latino communities, children will dress up, similar to our Halloween, searching for candy, often shaped like skeletons. Families gather together (and according to my cleaning lady they always have tamales) and visit the cemeteries. Here there is music and picnics and the graves decorated with brightly colored flowers. One interesting aspect of this holiday is the ofrendas or alters created to honor the dead. As part of our unit this week I had the privilege of creating my own ofrenda to honor my father and grandfather.
This has been a unique experience as cultures have overlapped and time wrapped around itself. As I searched my home for those things that reminded me of my Dad, my eyes fell on the book Alice in Wonderland. Shortly before my Dad passed away, I asked him what his favorite book was and he told me Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass. I have always meant to read it but “I’m late, I’m late” has always been ringing in my ears. I only have one thing that belonged to my Dad; ironically it is a pocketwatch, which had belonged to his father. This past month I immersed myself in another book, Art and Physics by Leonard Shalin and I have tried to wrap my mind around a new paradigm for looking at time and space. Mr. Shalin quotes Lewis Carroll- who was a brilliant mathematician-as he tries to explain “The Law of Relativity.” Once again I feel prompted to read Alice in Wonderland.


As I created my ofrenda I would catch myself looking in the mirror and then at pictures of my father and grandfather and pictures of my children and somehow Einstein’s hypothesis of one eternal “now” seems to make more sense. And then the magical side of me wants to step into the mirror and hug my father and introduce him to my children, his grandchildren, who he never met. I would tell him how they have some of his quirks and talents and traits and tell him how proud he would be of them. Then I would tell him about blogging and the Internet and how you can even go to school on the Internet and if there ever was a magical looking glass it is my computer. My Dad loved computers but he missed the Internet. And, then, my Dad could begin to expound to me the mysteries of the universe that he now understands so much better than I. Then he could introduce me to my grandfather who was sailor and an artist and, from the stories I have been told, very kind. My ofrenda contains the traditional candles, water (the dead get thirsty you know) and a bowl of nuts. An ofrenda needs salt (my dad loved salty snacks) and fall flowers. But my ofrenda also contains a few of my own touches. The watch in the middle reminds me that time is relative and, in Einstein’s words, someday when I am sitting astride a beam of light yesterday, today and tomorrow will all be now.

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.