Micro - Macro Cosmos revealed

At the same time we hear “science is mystified or baffled” about something, or that “science says” our spaceship Ocean Earth is in more and more peril, remarkable discoveries are made by scientists.
Yesterday we learned a team of scientists announced an “unprecedented discovery” of phenomena light-years away: three more planets circling around another Sun have been spotted. Apparently this is the first time images of several planets around a star outside our solar system have been captured.
Meanwhile Hubble keeps peering deeper into space, sending back more and more breathtaking macroscopic images. (I still wonder, “where did all that Space come from, for the whole universe to dance in?)Meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum, and not wishing to go unnoticed, the microscopic world reveals itself, making headline news as well.

This week Santiago Costantino, a physicist at University of Montreal recreated Vermeer’s “Girl With a Pearl Earring” at 200 microns, about the width of two human hairs.
He arranged the image ‘pixel by pixel’ and aimed a laser through a microscopic lens to arrange molecules in the liquid to form the famous image. Costantino explained the aim of this laser technique is to help medical researchers:
“the laser can create intricate protein patterns in the lab that researchers can use to test how nerve cells might be re-grown - the first step toward the long-term goal of repairing spinal cord injuries and other nerve damage”.
This same week we learned in Japan the world’s smallest engagement ring has been created: a diamond 5 billionths of a carat, 300 nanometres thick and 5 micrometres across.
It was made by carving out a circular structure in an artificially- made diamond. It will be used to access single photons, the basis for developing quantum computers. The ring can only be seen with a microscope. (No kidding!) And I thought my father was a genius, when he put 52 facets on a 0.20 point diamond.
Many years ago, on one of our journeys to Mexico, we met a local artist on the beach. His specialty was to carve your name on a grain of rice, which he’d put on a string and you could wear around your neck. He did this without glasses or magnification instruments. This is quite commonly seen today, but in those days it seemed absolutely amazing.
Back in the 1960s, the first images became available to the public of minerals or crystals magnified by an electron microscope. These were vistas never before seen and which carried the viewer into another realm. I used to call them, and still do, images of ‘never-ever land’.
Sometimes the resemblance between the multi-coloured splendour and sparkle of images from space (such as the extraordinary nebulae captured by Hubble we see today), and those from the microscopic world are so similar, it is uncanny, revealing the micro and the macro world are one.

However, what is interesting is that before I personally ever witnessed such images, I was already depicting imagery of a micro/macro nature, but born from intuition and experimentation. (See images of one painting above.) Evidence that the creative mind is a vehicle of the zeitgeist and can function as a harbinger of the future.
Keep on discovering! Henri

Arcobaleno, Arc-en-ciel, Arco-iris, Regnbue, Regenboog, Regenbogen, Rainbow

We live right at the Pacific Ocean and from our window have an unobstructed view of Juan de Fuca Strait, the Olympic range of Washington, and much of Victoria. When a rainbow appears, we can ‘capture’ it, if alert and ready.
This photo was taken by Natasha with her mobile this morning, November 10 at 10h00 Pacific time. The ‘raincircle’ spectrum hat, I acquired in the Canary Islands from a handicapped woman who crocheted it herself.

When teaching art aboard ship, most recently with venerable QE2. Tomorrow, November 11, she sails on her final voyage, heading ‘into the sunset’ in Dubai.
We give a different theme every day, and the passenger-students have to draw mostly on their imagination. At first this can be quite challenging for many people, however even those with the most difficultly to ignite their imagination, ‘take off’ once they see the theme of the day is: rainbow fantasy. (See here an example of one of my students.) In no time, their efforts are transformed into joyous rainbow colours. Maybe for the first time in a long while, they have connected again with their inner child.

Scientists, thinkers and polymaths have tried for a long time to analyze the phenomena of a rainbow. Poets and artists express their feelings and impressions back to the world. Children always find inspiration and joy in depicting this magic “bow” of colours.
It is the rainbow which teaches (long before the advent of art schools) what happens when you mix the three primary colours (Red, Yellow, Blue): you create the secondary colours (Orange, Green, Violet). I wonder how our “Lucy” ancestors must have felt upon first seeing a rainbow. What were they thinking when witnessing this mysterious and magical arch of colours? How did they feel? Joy? Fear? Wonder? Happiness? Did they utter “Wow”, “Ah”, “Oh”, like we do, or better still, take it in with awe and silence? 

 

Here’s a poem I wrote awhile back.

“Cry O Sun

Smile O Rain

Cry O Rain

Smile O Sun

Only your union

Creates a Rainbow”

"Ah, when we will ever learn . . "

These grey and “early-dark” days of November are once again upon us. All the leaves destined to part from their “tree home” will soon leave bare branches. The conifers - - cypress, pines, junipers, firs and cedars now have more to say and make their presence felt. They tell us without words,
“Look! We’re evergreen.”
No sooner have the yellows, tans, ochres, sienas, reds and umbers of Autumn go, than another Red ‘pops up’ (be it briefly), to be seen on almost everyone’s attire, especially the TV anchor people. Symbol for those soldiers and civilians who gave or lost their lives, so we can all live in ‘freedom’ and ‘peace’. Not only WWI is remembered, but all the wars and killings that followed, to this day, adding ever-more reasons to perpetuate Remembrance Day. [War is called “Regime Change” nowadays.] “Lest We Forget”, all right.
Bob Dylan wrote already in the ‘60s “ . . the answer my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, the answer is blowin’ in the wind” . .. “oh when will they ever learn, oh when will they ever learn?”
What a strange and paradoxical species we are, Homo Sapiens. I saw the bombs drop, and as a boy lived through WWII.
On the one hand we go out to kill and get killed, both for the same cause of Freedom. Soldiers gave their lives so that we can live free. Yet, our freedom is stealthily being taken away; ‘Big Brother’ has crept up, making Orwell’s book “Brave New World” look like amateurish scribble.
You may recall the classic black and white move “All Quiet on the Western Front”, based on a novel of the same name by German writer Erich Maria Remarque, a ‘realistic and harrowing account’ of WWI slaughter in the trenches and fields of Flanders.

We came across these thoughts from someone in England, on the wearing of poppies and remembering, “ . . how much does it serves to console as much as to mask the terrible reality of death in war. By masking, it is meant that remembrance becomes a ritual used to ‘blot out’ the horrible reality of, in this case war, and the First World War in particular. Naturally, the truth is far too disturbing to continually be exposed, so the ritual of remembrance helps to create a more ‘comfortable’ memory of the deceased. This is most noticeable, for example, on Remembrance (Day), when the wearing of an artificial poppy, and the two-minute silence in recognition of those who gave their lives, saves one from having to dwell on the specific details of the deaths of millions of men killed while serving their country.” (From “A Memorial in Scarlet” by Stacy Chambless.)
But why do poppy flowers flourish in battlefields? I learned the first reference to this was made by a writer during Napoleon’s time. He observed certain fields were barren before a battle but exploded with poppies after the fighting ended.
It’s known that in Flanders and France, the chalk soil became very rich in lime from all the rubble, but after the lime became absorbed, the poppies disappeared. Today many Quakers wear white poppies which they say "is not about insulting the dead, but to honour them by working for an end to war”.
Remember Swift's "Gulliver's Travels"? War because of a song the "Littleputs" argued about? We need a few more Gullivers in the world.

Would it not be something to see a film such as “All Quiet on the Western Front” where everything was in reverse? Then you’d have peace instead of war: bullets shot from rifles would come out of the bodies and return into the rifle barrel. The bayonet plunged into flesh reverses and leaves the body. No wound. Advancing commandos go backward. Shrapnel would re-assemble. Bombers raining their deadly cargo would have the bombs flying upwards back into the hold of the aircraft. Hand grenades would boomerang intact back into the hands that threw them. Cannons nicely receive back their lethal cannon balls, all the carnage ‘undone’.
On the topic of shooting, why do we speak of killing a penalty in hockey or soccer (associated football).Can’t we say ‘ride out’ or ‘weather’ or ‘survive’ a penalty? Or we speak of “a nice shot” in pool or billiards. Our words perpetuate our culture’s killing habits.
But, this November has given us hope and a sigh of relief: the end of a great “error” (which added to the deaths of how many more thousands?), and beginning of a new "Era".
Mahatma Gandhi said, “An eye for an eye, Makes the whole world blind.” Signing off, Henri

Art without signature? "They had no word for Art".

Back in 1967 a small group, twelve of us, visited the Paleolithic caves of Lascaux in France and Altamira in Spain.Both caves were closed at the time we arrived. My French and Spanish helped, along with our being mostly artists from Canada, allowing us access to both primordial art galleries.(Both Lascaux and Altamira have for some time now been closed to the public). So it was a great privilege to see with my own eyes these so-called ‘primitive’ images. Something I’ll never forget. Beyond being awestruck, I was tongue-tied.

It was like journeying back to The Origins, to our creative roots. These humble rock artists left us a vast legacy.And you know what? Not one of the pre-historic creations by early Homo sapiens shows a “signature”; I’m pretty sure in their vocabulary they did not have a word for Art. [You can see images of human hands, and “dots” too, on those cave walls. Enigmatic symbols. Are those their signatures, left behind for us to ponder?]I often wonder to which ‘school of art and design’ they went to, to learn their skill.

And how can we say these works have been done by ‘primitives? Just look at those lines, shapes and colours, the way they made use of the contours of the cave walls and ceilings to enhance their creations.

Surely it took not only great certainty on the part of the painter, but they had to be ‘refined’ minds. The grace and precise coordination between hand, head, soul and heart is stunning.
In later travels to other parts of the world, we witnessed other early forms of art, those of ancient Egypt; in Chichen Itza, Uxmal, Palenque and Tulum in Central America; the San/Bushmen rock paintings in Namibia; aboriginal work in Australia; petroglyphs in North America – none of these are “signed”. What a contrast with art today, where some signatures are often so large or dominating it ruins the composition.
But look at snowflakes, flowers, ocean life, animals, all that grows and blooms --- no signatures. Signatures abound in our documents, papers and our works of art.
What is it with us, that everything we create has to be signed? (Sure, in ancient time there were ‘signet’ rings of the Pharaohs, using scarab designs.) Nowadays, signatures and stamps of authenticity are considered a must. If an artist won’t sign a painting, the dealer will insist upon it. Even this blog is identified.
A signature represents ID, as in “I.D.T. – I Did That.”
Yes, signing denotes authenticity, but signing also resembles a territorial marking. “This is mine”, like the spraying by the cat family. Of course it also represents pride, and in some cases vanity, a ‘copyright within a copyright’?
In 1972 I embarked on “Organiverse”, an opus of one hundred mandalas in pointillism, dot by dot, atom by atom. I never signed one of them. My intent was, and still is, to let the images reveal themselves to the viewer. Evolution without words.
In a sense, Art is silent communication. Viewers in their own way need to connect with a work of art, while in turn the full sum of the artist connects with the viewer through their work. Each of us lives a life, with its own experiences, and reacts to the world accordingly.
Vincent van Gogh signed his paintings and drawings simply “Vincent”. We know from letters to his brother Theo that he left out his surname because he realized people would have problems pronouncing it correctly. How right and compassionate he was. Just listen today how his name is mispronounced in a multitude of variations.
Going back to “Organiverse” (the series of 100 images all done in pointillism), this series was created in 1972. In those days printing technology didn’t have the know-how to reproduce the delicate and lucid “colour-play” of the dots. Now, not unlike the cycle of the Cicada that spends many years underground and then emerges “singing”, Organiverse seems to be morphing and re-awakening. (See organiverse.com)
And guess what else is new? Not only are we expected to sign our work, but in the case of Organiverse people ask for explanations of each one! Please, there are 100 of these mandalas.
What’s then left for personal perception and imagination of the individual viewer, if the artist “explains” what should be silent communication.
Imagination for artists is their ‘breath of life’.
See what we mean? We stand upon the shoulders of our noble ancestors, those pre-historic cave painters - - - whose works of the far-distant past have no signature, but lots of intent, spirit and soul. “Sign-ing” off, Henri

Is Life a Dream, or a Dream Life?

A question from a friendly reader across the pond, in Yorkshire. “I read with interest your blog about the postwar resurgence of ocean liners, and also the movie stars who were aboard. I believe most English movie stars at that time sailed with Cunard or P and O, am I right?”

Yes, that’s true. Most British celebrities and movie stars would often sail with Cunard, P and O, or Union Castle Line (which did the route to Africa). Americans and several European stars seemed to prefer the vessel I worked on, Holland America Line’s “Nieuw Amsterdam”, partly because she had air-conditioning, unique in those days. 
Some sailed with the renowned Ile de France”.

Now we’ve touched once again the subject of post-war Transatlantic crossings by the ocean liners, and re-introduction of 5-star service, let me say a few more words on the topic.
We all have our own life experiences. Except today people are experiencing things “more similarly”, for example, through the saturation of media, we all get showered with the same water. Witness people in subway or buses, all reading the same newspapers. They arrive at work, having formed “opinions” from this “wisdom-source”.
How do we fit in with this assault of confused minds? How do we make sense, or order out of the chaos caused by endless sources of information coming our way (including this blog, ho-ho!) When we travel, we hopefully set out to see and experience different things, but upon our return, do we digest or distill these experiences into seeing things differently?”
During our travels many well-known people, celebrities and members of high society came our way. But several were a bore! Why is this? Smugness? Narcissism? “Blind and deaf” to the world beyond themselves? Who knows, but can be dull.
Often the most interesting people are ‘unsuspecting’ adventurers, humble but proud. When they return home, these individuals see the world differently, with ‘fresher eyes’ than when they left home. These are the same kinds of people who often end up “leaving this world a little bit better than they found it” as the Circumnavigator’s Club motto says.
What makes my own life so diverse is that it all seems to fall into place, in a sense ‘predestined’. Maybe all our lives are, who knows? And it’s not always smelling the roses, but feeling the thorns once in awhile. Plenty of slips on the banana peel of Life. In my early boyhood in the Lowlands, we learned a song, called “Wij Reizen Om te Leren”.

“Wij reizen om te leren,
Door heel het land,
En hebben als wij wederkeren
Ook meer verstand.”

“We travel because we wish to learn.
Then, upon return, we will have gathered more insight and knowledge.”

(An aside, yours truly learned five languages because of all my travels, and ‘being there’.) Returning to the title of today’s post and the subject of dreams and reality:
One blistery Toronto winter morning in 1973, I woke up with a clear dream of teaching Art on ships, later that dream became reality. (Caused indirectly by a rejection I’d received for a grant application.) There is a great difference between making a dream reality, (remember Danny Kaye in “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty?”), daydreaming or “self-talk”, where nothing happens. Alot of "baaaaaaaa", but no wool! If an around-the-world sailing is the ‘crown jewel of travel’, then to make a dream-come-true must be a ‘crown-jewel of life’s journey’. Happy trails, Henri

Hallowe'en Special

My paternal grandfather was a master diamond faceter, and, a holistic healer. Besides being a great music lover, he also studied -- on his own -- the ancient Greek classics.
He was a great raconteur. Amongst the many stories he told me in my boyhood were two which pointed to the ‘eerie’ elements, not only for a young boy but even grown-ups.
One story, the Barong, featured the epic battles of Indonesia between good and evil, as portrayed by exotic dancers with fearsome masks. These stories depicted tales from the Hindu Mahabharata.
One of my grandfather’s five sons was a scribe or senior clerk in the Netherlands Colonial office in Indonesia. Another uncle was a pioneering photographer and documentary filmmaker. Upon hearing from his brother about those classical Indonesian dances, he travelled in the late 1920’s especially to Bali, to film the spectacular Kecak( or what Westerners call the Monkey Dance).I had the honour of watching those films, at the ripe young age of 5 years.
The other “scary” myths my grandfather told me was about the Gorgons, to which we devote this special Hallowe’en post, and because I can’t remember all of this Greek classic, we quote here an excerpt here from from the web-based Encyclopedia Mythica at www.pantheon.org.)

“In Greek mythology a Gorgon is a monstrous feminine creature whose appearance would turn anyone who laid eyes upon it to stone. Later there were three of them: Euryale ("far-roaming"), Sthenno ("forceful"), and Medusa ("ruler"), the only one of them who was mortal. They are the three daughters of Phorcys and Ceto.

The Gorgons are monstrous creatures covered with impenetrable scales, with hair of living snakes, hands made of brass, sharp fangs and a beard. They live in the ultimate west, near the ocean, and guard the entrance to the underworld.
A stone head or picture of a Gorgon was often placed or drawn on temples and graves to avert the dark forces of evil, but also on the shields of soldiers.
Such a head (called a gorgoneion) could also be found on the older coins of Athens. Artists portrayed a Gorgon head with snake hair, and occasionally with a protruding tongue and wings.”Returning to the topic of Hallowe’en (or Hallowed Evening),in the Netherlands we do not have the ‘doings’. We have other traditions, more connected to earlier Pagan traditions (or from the Middle Ages).
While writing this post I recalled a curious incident also from my boyhood, connected to a “scandal” around the Walt Disney movie “Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs”.

 
The reader may find this strange, but Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands forbade the showing of this film in Holland because she felt it was too “sinister” for the children: the witch with her poisoned apple, the trees with those threatening branches which threw shadows which looked like long-armed spikes.
Being inventive, the Netherlanders found a way to get around this censorship, at least those who could afford it: they simply went to Flanders across the border to watch the movie there. How about that? 'Have a Hair-raising Hallowe'en', Henri

It's Scary, Charlie Brown!

Ooooooooooooooooo . . . Ghouls, Spooky-spooks and Zombies are slowly waking up from their one-year slumber. Or, maybe they haven’t been asleep at all?
What I find a lot scarier than these creatures is watching how governments or self-imposed autocratic dictators treat their fellow citizens, the planet and all that lives on this humble spaceship called Earth. That’s scary.
What’s scary is to see 10 years after our last visit to the coral reefs that these ‘nurseries’ of the seas continue to die.

What’s scary is that some one million sharks are slaughtered every year, just for people to indulge in the so-called “delicious” shark-fin soup. Sharks are not fish which lay eggs galore in one go. No, sharks give birth to live offspring, in small numbers.
What’s scary is Rhinos are disappearing because people “believe” their horns ground into powder are used for aphrodisiacs.
What’s scary is across the board, species are becoming endangered or are already extinct; that more and more precious plants are being destroyed or plundered. Plants which may hold medicinal healing properties for us all. Now, that is scary.
What’s scary is the rapid melting of ice in the North and South polar regions, and the Antarctic ice shelves breaking off. Now that’s scary, you better believe it. What’s scary is remembering that prediction of the Mayan’s in their so-far accurate calendar of a cataclysm in 2012. Maybe this prophesy refers to the melting of the polar regions?
What’s scary and in a sense the most puzzling of all is that so people are “paralyzed” despite the canary in the coal mine warnings given to us all. Sure, we hear a lot about “Green this” and “Green that”, but much of this is motivated for the Green Buck.
What’s also scary is to hear every day that “scientists are baffled” about something or other, e.g. miscalculating the side-effects of some pharmaceutical drug. Or how a food, drink or supplement is good for you one week, and bad for you the next. The ‘lame carry the blind’. Now, that’s scary.
What’s scary is every day more than a billion people go hungry while our affluent nations have managed to raise a generation of obese children.

What’s also scary is this:
Ghouls, Zombies and Monsters
are “awake”
While most of the Human species is Asleep.
now that’s scary.

So, come on, all of you Witches, Zombies, Ghouls, Gorgons and Monsters – masked or painted. For the night of October 31^st, give us a “wake-up” about the planet. Now that would be a treat’.

Do you know a Ghost’s favourite dessert?
Boooooooooooooberry pie.