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Month: May 2009

Medium is the message

My friend Shane Shennan recently applied the infamous Marshall McLuhan quote about television, “the medium is the message”, to… notebooks. In his post, Mangle Your Moleskine!, Shane explains how the type/cost of the notebook you use influences your creative output.

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Twitter culture club

I had lunch with Jay Moonah and we got into a conversation where we hypothesized young children using private Twitter and Flickr accounts for keeping in touch with relatives living in different geographical areas (we also joked around with the idea of what Twitter streams would look like if toddlers…

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#28 On Freedom

When I was younger I heard three stories, each in two parts. Perhaps you’ve heard them too. Its likely. Or at least versions of them in your own words. Perhaps you’ve heard about times before, when things were harmonious. About catastrophes that scarred everything and everyone. Perhaps in your midst there are witnesses to attest to the truth of these tales. Or others steadfastly committed to original words.

It was from the latter that I heard the first story. Set in a time before anyone whose ever lived can remember. About two ancestral beings who were naked and vulnerable but without knowing, so they weren't afraid. They lived in perfect harmony. And then something catastrophic happened. An evil entered and brought with it knowledge of a kind that tore everything apart. Even now upon those who’ve not forgotten what their ancestors came to know, scars remain.

The first part of the second story concerns a group. At one time slaves to a tyrannical ruler of an empire so vast as to make escape all but impossible. The lives of the slaves were difficult; yet they survived and multiplied. In their midst was a single determined voice with the power to set everyone free. Which it did.

The first part of the third story is more recent. Though fewer in number with each passing year, still among us are people who witnessed the events. Its also about a group, who for reasons unfathomable to naive conceptions of human nature, were systematically herded and exterminated by an evil that possessed an entire nation.

As with the first two stories, the third is unforgettable. And many years later, in annual rituals of retelling, the descendants of those affected recall with bittersweet joy that their ancestors were set free by the power of belief in a transcendent voice, and the possibility of freedom. Each year they reaffirm their commitment to continued existence in spite of forces still intent on their enslavement. For all too aware are the not so naive that we remain capable of terrible cruelty; that without awareness we remain unafraid; and that without fear we remain deaf to the knocks of evil at our doors.

Maybe you’ve heard these stories. Or similar ones. About ruined childhoods, natural worlds destroyed by unnatural forces. Stories about you. Maybe you’ve seen first hand or met those who can attest. I once met a woman who inhaled longing, and when she exhaled decried the indelible marks left by her past between her ribs. I learned from her that memory is a complicated means of producing something other than facts. Stories mainly. At least in part. Often inter-generational.

These days we store the past at the tips of our fingers; we reminisce in high definition. But still, even as storage in the cloud replaces stories of before, we retain a lament for the catastrophe of prolonged exposure to the slings and arrows of time in the sun, or the moments that change everything forever. We continue to be reminded that no matter our admiration for advances in meteorology, the weather is unpredictable. And we resolve to relish moments and savour fleeting joys. We consider it wise to be grateful for what we have.

That’s as far as the first parts of stories can take us. Then come the second parts. And to be sure, without them, we would drown in unpredictable weather. The second parts are more terrifying than the first parts, more difficult too. And the reason for that is the second parts of our stories demand that we move on. That we shoulder the burden of past catastrophes as if they were matters of our individual responsibility. Perhaps more than any other, the reason the second parts are so terrifying, is that we write them ourselves.

When I was younger I was fortunate to be surrounded by people who expected me, having heard the stories of my ancestors, to write a good story of my own. The details were not important, but some general rules applied. My story should start small. And aim high. It should include others, but only with constructive intentions. At its core should be family, surrounded by community, supported by society to which is owed service, and from which nothing should be assumed given. All of the characters should strive to do good by one another, particularly in times of need. And as for my own character, he should lead the way; respect the past; be true to his word; aware of his capacity for error; guided by a transcendent voice; and sustained by unwavering belief in the possibility of his freedom.

Bicycle outside my shelter in the Desert (2019).

Bicycle outside my shelter in the Desert (2019).

Letters Home #17 Exegesis

Listen here or on iTunes or Stitcher.

This week I started a new project, called Exegesis. Its inspired by everything I’ve been doing or trying to do. But before I get to that; a short story.

An old man shuffled with several heavy books down a quiet street. Two under his right arm, two under his left, one pinched in his right hand. He stopped briefly at a bench to ease and consider his burden, then continued on his way. As the old man struggled a young man watched, eventually he approached and offered to help. The old man was grateful and together they walked a few blocks to the old man’s apartment. Once inside the young man set the books on a side table and helped the old man into a chair. “I hope you don’t mind my asking a question,” the young man ventured, sensing himself in the presence of wisdom.
“Not at all,” replied the old man, still catching his breath.
All of a sudden the young man was self-conscious. It seemed absurd to lay at the feet of a man he’d never met a question he’d always wanted to ask.
“So,” said the old man, noticing the young man’s hesitation, “What is it you’d like to know?”

Unbeknownst to the young man, in a time gone by the old man was called an exegete and a homilist. He’d expounded, proclaimed and edified. Teased, pruned and tamed the verses of ancient stories whose lines frequently overgrew the sweet nectar between them. All so that others might more easily wander the garden of their genius.
But the ancient stories were predicated on the notion of Truth. And time, in its propensity to select and reject from the catalogues of ideas throughout human history, rejected Truth. Its reasons were clear. Nothing, it said, could occur contrary to the laws of nature. And besides, that there were a multitude of denominations laying claim to Truth was unequivocal evidence that whatever it was in their stories that sustained them, it had little to do with objective reality.
So the old man had been stripped of his reverie. However, unlike some of his colleagues he made no appeal to a higher court. Nor did he dispense with his verses. Instead he gave one final address to his congregation.
“My friends,” he said, “There is no greater sacrifice than a sacrifice for Truth. This we learn from Abraham, who for Truth was willing to bind his only son Isaac to the alter. So terrifying was his faith, the sages tell us, that the angels in heaven cried and their tears fell into Isaac’s eyes. Years later, as an old man, Isaac was blind and vulnerable thus to deceit. Permit me to offer an equally terrifying interpretation of this story. For the sacrifice a man makes for Truth is to denigrate all ideas but his own. To the vast majority of humankind he says, ‘I have sacrificed your ideas for Truth.’ Therefore he cannot even consider them. He is forever prejudiced. And like one who stares openly at the sun he will stare so hard at Truth that when he looks away he will be unable to see beyond its imprint. Such a man is blind. And his children will be blind as well.”
Muffled voices rippled through the congregation and threatened to boil over.
“My friends! Please, let me finish!” The old man struggled to quiet the room, it was quickly filling with unbridled emotion and unfortunately his final words were lost on many. “Let us not hold so tightly to our verses that we prevent even the tiniest drop of nectar from reaching our tongues. For it is the nectar that sustains us, and we should continue to know its taste. The same stuff flows in other stories, but not in all of them. So I implore you to look upon your work as I look now upon my own, knowing that it has barely begun.”
With that the old man left his post. In the proceeding years he set about studying the collected literary effort of humankind. What he learned frequently changed his mind.

The young man looked in the old man’s eyes, a pair of alpine lakes crowded by fleshy peaks and valleys.
“I’d like to know what makes a good story,” he said.
Genuinely interested, the old man replied, “What do you mean by good?”
The young man thought for a moment.
“I suppose I mean true,” he said, "But not the kind of truth arrived at by reason. Nor the kind of truth with a capital T. I mean the kind of truth contained in stories. The kind of truth arrived at by exegesis.”
“And what makes you think the truth of a story can’t be validated by reason?” the old man prodded.
“Because stories have an internal logic. They can make sense without being reasonable.”
“Then perhaps, young man, your question is about the difference between sense and reason.”
Again the young man took a moment to think. He hadn’t framed his question in that way before. Now it seemed too fundamental to pursue. He was lost for words.
“Perhaps,” the old man said quizzically, “It will help you to know this story. Its about a wayfarer, who visited a city rumoured to house an enchanted well. When he arrived in the city the wayfarer enquired at an inn and in exchange for two pints he was given a map. But after following the map for an hour he concluded it was erroneous. What did he expect from an innkeeper? the wayfarer thought. So he visited a fancy hotel, where, in exchange for a room he was given a second map. After another hour he concluded that the second map was a fraud. What did he expect from a hotelier? he thought. Then the wayfarer happened upon a street urchin, who told him in no uncertain terms that such a well did not exist. But what did he expect from an urchin?
The wayfarer decided to visit the library, where he made copies of every map he could find and spent several days following them all to no avail. Eventually, exhausted, he determined to enlist the help of others. So he stood outside the fancy hotel and sold his maps for a dollar apiece, to cover expenses. Later that day a couple to whom he had sold a map walked by and he overheard the husband say, ‘That map was hogwash!’ to which his wife replied, ‘What did you expect from a peddler?”
The young man was wrapt with the fable but appeared confused. “I’m not sure that answers my question.” he said.
“Well,” came the reply, “What did you expect from a story?”

So, back to the project. Simply put its a series of group sessions focused on the exegesis of canonical stories in popular Western culture. Beginning with The Lion King. During the sessions I play twenty to thirty minutes of the film at a time then facilitate a discussion about its underlying significance, which I make poignant by using language from the kids’ vernacular.

For example, here is a snippet of truth contained in The Lion King:

To be a good king (adult) involves a lot more than simply getting one’s way all the time. A good king keeps the circle of life in balance and maintains a peaceful home. A good king is brave, but that doesn’t mean he goes looking for trouble. Being brave means overcoming shame. In that effort it helps to be light hearted, let things go and remember that all the great kings of the past are on your side.

A king who wants nothing but to get his own way is like Scar, who acts out of jealousy and hatred. He relies on three hyenas who spend all of their time teasing, lying and playing the fool to do his bidding. Their loyalty is based solely on the fact of their being fed.

To be king is the right thing to want, what’s important is how one gets there.

How one gets there.

How one gets there.

Letters Home #16 'Bedtime Stories'

Listen here or on iTunes or Stitcher.

Waiting for a billy to boil.

Waiting for a billy to boil.

Half of the brain is dedicated to vision, which means the best time to tell stories is bedtime, when there’s more room to process information beyond what’s apparent. Which might also explain why people faced with complex problems tend to think for a few seconds with their eyes closed. Whatever the case, bedtime is a good time to imagine. So this week we took seven kids to Yalakun for an overnight camp.

Yalakun is a beachside outstation, two hours by four-wheel-drive on sandy, unsealed roads. Its home to a solitary Ranger and knowledge holder whom everyone calls 'the old man'. There’s an old schoolhouse - no longer in use - two bungalows, a simple shade shelter and four outhouses. In the centre of it all is a big white cross. Its a hundred meters from the cross to the beach, where we sat under the setting sun, with bellies full of kangaroo tail and damper, listening to the old man. He spoke of the land and surrounding clan groups, of the crocodiles and their habits, of the best times to fish and of the sandflies that come out when the wind dies down.

When he retired the rest of us stayed by the fire with a billy and the rising moon. From what I could tell the chatter was light hearted, though of course I couldn’t understand. One by one the kids went to bed until there were only two. Then the conversation took a more serious turn. R— was talking. She was telling a story, that much I knew. I lay on my back and relaxed into the rhythm and cadence of her words. Occasionally a brief debate would ensue, but for the most part she talked and everyone listened.

I imagined she was telling a sacred story. Tracing the features of the land in the movements of ancestral beings, casting the silhouettes of animals into the stars and teaching how to navigate by their eternal presence. I couldn’t know, but I felt deeply the company of ancient knowledge and the comfort of family.

When the billy hissed I made to stand up but R— put a hand on my knee. “Waku,” she said, “Will you read this aloud?” In her other hand she held a mobile phone, its light reflecting the undersides of her features, the tops of which were lit by the moon.
“Sure,” I said, sitting up and taking the phone. I straightened my back and cleared my throat, then I looked at the screen. At the top of the page was the heading, Book of Revelation, Chapter 7.
To be honest, I wasn’t completely surprised.

In Gapuwiyak one of the more unexpected, though not uncommon sounds is amplified Christian rock music. It blasts every weekend from huge speakers outside some of the houses. This week it started at seven o'clock in the morning on three consecutive days from a house at the end of my street. On the fourth day I learned that an old woman who lived in the house had passed away. The music was part of her palliative care. After she passed the roads were closed for the hearing ceremony, the first opportunity for the family to grieve. All of the women sat in the yard of her house while the men, their foreheads smeared with white paint, gathered nearby. They walked towards the women in a tight group, singing and playing clapsticks. When their song was finished the women started wailing and throwing themselves repeatedly to floor. They hit themselves with rocks and sticks in places on their bodies corresponding with their particular kin relationships to the deceased. When I asked why they hit themselves I was told that it helps to stop thinking and start crying. After the ceremony everyone sat together, listening to Christian rock. A huge white cross leaned on the wall of the house.

Most of the adults here went to Sunday School as children. The devout sit every night in fellowship circles, praying and reading scripture, while others partake in the regular vices. There’s no longer any formal religious education so kids learn mainly at bedtime. They fall asleep to stories about God. Which all goes to say, I wasn’t surprised to be holding that phone. I read chapter seven aloud. Its part of a highly symbolic, apocalyptic story, written by someone called John at a time when Christians were under increasing pressure to worship their Roman emperor instead of their God. This is what it says.

“I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth to prevent any wind from blowing on the land or on the sea or on any tree. Then I saw another angel coming up from the east, having the seal of the living God. He called out in a loud voice to the four angels who had been given power to harm the land and the sea, 'Do not harm the land or the sea or the trees until we put a seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.' Then I heard the number of those who were sealed: 144,000 from the tribes of Israel… After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.’

All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshipped God, saying ‘Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honour and power and strength be to our God forever and ever. Amen!’ Then one of the elders asked me, ‘These in white robes - who are they, and where did they come from?’ I answered, ‘Sir, you know.’ And he said, ‘These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

I handed the phone back to R— then stood up and fetched the billy.
“Gnama,” I said softly while pouring the tea, “What does that mean to you?”

Gulun Story

In this post I describe a recent bilingual walking, talking, story project aimed at connecting students in years 2 and 3 at Gapwiyak School with traditional ways of knowing and being. The project was inspired by The History of Bilingual Education in the Northern Territory (Springer 2017), which I read in my first few weeks as a volunteer art educator at the school. I’d been puzzling over the problem of literacy in community and trying to understand why kids in a region with a first language other than English are taught solely in English. What I discovered in that book and by speaking with other members of the community is a stunning story of undertaking in the 1970s to make written words from a set of languages that for 40,000 years had only ever been spoken. I won’t go into more detail than that in this post but if you’d like to know the full story about how I came to be doing this project you can read my letters titled “Speechless” and "The Light Side".

After speaking with some Yolngu teachers we decided the best way to start a project like this was with a walk to the lake. There we’d split the boys and girls and the former would learn to build a traditional shade shelter and the latter would make mud babies our of clay wrapped in paperbark and learn about traditional ways to care for the young. The whole experience would be framed with a playful narrative, like a game of ‘house’. And afterwards we’d retell the story in English and in Yolngu Matha and create a storybook.

We made sure that the experience would be open ended, that is, we didn't know what the story would be, only that the theme would be traditional ways of living. What ended up happening was both comical and also tragic (something we hoped would happen) and ever since the kids haven't stopped talking about it. Some highlights were the boys making spears and getting painted up by one of the older boys like warriors, and the infamous snatching of one of the girl's babies by a dingo, which catalysed a group effort to find the baby. Unfortunately she didn't make it, but the story has become a legend. It brought everyone together, provided an opportunity to nurture empathy and inspired a possible direction for the next chapter, the story of death.

Since that first day, walking to the lake has become a much loved weekly experience. On the days without a Yolngu teacher to accompany us I run the sessions in the way of Nature Education, which I learned to do in my time leading bush school at Centennial Park in Sydney. That approach is a great fit for the Yolngu kids. It involves nature play, eco art, some bushcraft and storytelling.

The success of this project was a collaborative effort between myself, the classroom teacher and two Yolngu assistant teachers. I loved working with them and we continue to have a blast every week. Already new stories are bubbling to the surface to be captured in future books and to inform classroom learning through a ‘both-ways’ frame of reference.

After finishing the book, Jess, the classroom teacher recorded the students and some staff reading the pages and made an audio book that she showcased at a student assembly. I took the recordings and made this video version.

Improvements to the project would be to more carefully transcribe the Yolngu Matha and English translations. I found that when I consulted a few different Yolngu teachers to help with translation, it was hard to know which changes were stylistic and which were linguistic. Of course the days are gone when a team of linguists would be on hand to help but its a start and in the coming weeks we will water this seed and rejoice to discover the last of its fruit.

Letters Home #6 "The Light Side"

This letter is available to listen to on a Remote Voice podcast. Here or on iTunes or Stitcher.

Letter #6 “The Light Side"

Watching the sky to the east, it appears as though the day begins when the sun arrives, and similarly, that the moon rises when the sun sets. However, from a stellar distance we'd see that the sun and the moon stay relatively still, while the earth spins between them. Thus, like figureheads on the prow of a cosmic ship - like sea lions lazing on a galactic shore, it is we who turn to the sun each morning, and each evening we turn to the moon.

I dreamt up that analogy late one afternoon under a purpling sky. What a beautiful image, I thought. Like a proud cat I arched my back and gave a little purr. Then a chorus of birds erupted into song. Like tiny angels. I closed my eyes. It was all I could do amidst the cacophony to keep myself from expecting to hear the voice of God. In the back of my mind a deluded sage rehearsed his reply. Stay humble, he thought, but also measured and assertive. We wouldn’t want God to think that of all the great poets to receive his message, this time he’d chosen one without a spine. Suddenly the chorus gave way. And from the north a sound rippled through the silence towards me. I opened my arms to the heavens, ready to take my place among the ascended saints - then it hit me - like a bucket of cold water - a raucous cackle. A Kookaburra laughing. I felt shame gather in my cheeks and pool in my eyes. Then erupt from my mouth in a laugh of my own. O Kookaburra! I thought, now you’ve seen me naked! And what can I do, but laugh?

In my last letter I wrote my way out of the impulse to start a revolution. Nevertheless, with my feet on the ground, there remained a need for bilingual education at Gapuwiyak School. So I spoke with some Yolngu teachers and organised to run bilingual lessons during my time with the students. They were thrilled. And the balanda teachers I spoke to had long harboured thoughts along bilingual lines but hadn’t the time to know where to start. So in the end, the best response to a grand problem was a small gesture.

On the day of our first bilingual session, walking down to the lake, one of the elder Yolngu teachers, Kath, took me aside for a word of advice. We’d planned to have the boys build a traditional shelter called a warro. And for the girls to wrap mud babies in paperbark and learn traditional ways to care for the young. Like a big game of 'house'. Afterwards the students would turn the game into storybooks for future reading practice. With regard to the game, said Kath, we should try and make it funny. If its too serious they won’t understand. I didn’t quite know what she meant, but I followed her lead.

As planned, the girls made mud babies and wrapped them in paperbark. They built a small nursery and put the babies to sleep. But when a curious dog approached, Kath took the opportunity - with a big smile - to pretend that one of the babies had been snatched by a dingo. She rallied the girls and they rushed to the boys, who by then were under their shelter, painted like warriors with chalky clay. Laughing, the girls relayed the terrible news, and together we searched for the baby. It was eventually found. But it hadn't survived. So together we mourned. And next week we’ll hold a pretend funeral. The children can’t wait. Funerals are a deeply significant part of Yolngu culture so it will be a wonderful opportunity to continue the serious task of continuity.

Comedy has a way of bringing light to the darkness, making some things easier to see. Which got me thinking about a problem I’ve been puzzling over since I arrived in Arnhem Land six weeks ago. Litter. Its everywhere. In a previous letter I called it the shrapnel left by the bomb blast of modern life. Bottles, bags and various bits and pieces line the streets. Many subscribe to the belief that a population accustomed to biodegradability will take some time to adjust to plastics. But watching people walk by huge bins and brightly coloured signs, I'm beginning to think that any ignorance is more likely the turning of a blind eye. Out here the shop is closest thing to a pub. And some of the problems people face lay at the feet of a diet replete with soft drinks and bread. So it could be that picking up litter would mean taking a good look at insidious lethargy and poor health. A difficult task. But there’s a way.

Next month there’s going to be a big festival in Gapuwiyak. I joined forces with another artist and we devised a plan to use plastic bottles to build giant animal sculptures with the kids, who loved the idea. Then parade them on the night of the festival. To get started we got out some wheelbarrows and turned up the reggae, then danced our way around town collecting bottles. Our good humour attracted welcome attention from the Buffalo Boys, a group of men who spend their time turning scrap metal into everything from bench seats to barbecues. We enlisted their help to fashion the frames. Its become a collaboration. Who knows, perhaps these sculptures will be the good hearted gesture that makes staring down the bottle that little bit easier.

Maps to Guide Aboriginal Ways of Knowing

How do we repair the parts of our culture that pollute our rivers and keep us anxious?

In the last few years I've followed that question all the way to Arnhem Land. My hypothesis is that if we connect more deeply with place we will feel more at ease and learn what it means to take care of the rivers. That’s assuming there is such a thing as a deeper connection place and that anxiety has something do with displacement. So among other things, I’m Arnhem Land to do some research. I’m particularly interested in ways of connecting to place that involve mapping.

I’m conducting research in three ways. First, by living and learning in the remote home of the oldest surviving land based culture on the planet. Second, by reading as much of the related literature as I can. Third, by mapping the places I visit through an arts based practice that involves sound recording and illustration. As far as the second is concerned, I’m learning with members of the Yolngu community in Gapuwiyak about Aboriginal ways of knowing and communicating. I’m also working with the kids at Gapuwiyak School, facilitating arts based projects that align with and express their interests.

In this post I go a little deeper into mapping as a concept and learning tool. And I share an example of how I'm using mapping in the field.

Its nothing new to say that visual representations describe complex problems in a way that’s easy to read. Even the earliest scientific textbooks, dating back 2,300 years, contain diagrams (see here). Back then, like today, it would be quite a challenge for a science without pictures to appeal to a popular audience.

The same is true for mythology and fiction. In both cases the use of poetic language conjures scenes in the imagination of the reader. A book that fails to create an engaging world - or reader without a suitable catalogue of imagery for the language used - is likely to be put down after a few pages. The reader might then say something like, “I just couldn’t get into it…”

Stories and diagrams with wider appeal than specific cultural or linguistic contexts, tend to tap into a catalogue of imagery that overlaps those boundaries. Where that occurs we begin to find the use of words like archetype. But this is not a post about archetypes. Its about maps.

Maps are spacial images that use a set of symbols, arranged by relative position, to represent a landscape and its features. In nature education topographical maps are often used to teach kids how to orient and navigate, as well as how to identify things in the world based on symbolic representation. Maps are also used to great effect in art therapy, to symbolise and set out aspects of a person’s inner experience. They can be very helpful in alleviating anxieties relating to overwhelm and/or feeling stuck. In both cases the symbols on the map are abstract representations of things actually in the world. In the same way that words are abstract representations of meaning. Only a sentence is harder to understand than a map because its visual dimension is limited to things like the order of words, choice of font and character spacing. That’s why a picture can tell a thousand words.

For a really interesting discussion of the way our minds use symbols to interpret reality I recommend listening to this talk on the Neuropsychology of Symbolic Representation by Professor of Psychology at the University of Toronto, Dr Jordan Peterson.

In education, visual representations of information are common. Students will often be asked to draw and interpret diagrams. And they will often be encouraged to create posters or mind maps that help them explain and understand concepts. But there is seldom an emphasis on those visual representations having anything to do with geography or topography. Indeed topographical maps are usually stowed away for the few weeks of the year when teachers see fit to tick the much maligned geography boxes in their handbook of curricular outcomes. Either that or they hang on the wall like laminated afterthoughts, shyly suggesting that things might be different someplace else.

But there is a missed opportunity in that approach. Because the thing about maps is that they have an almost infinite capacity for the storage of information on multiple levels of analysis. On an outline of Australia its possible to lay out everything from variations in temperature to the structure of liberal democracy. Not only that but geographical maps can also represent time and travel. Its possible to mark out journeys from one point to another. And its possible to represent symbolically what happened or might happen along the way. Which opens things up into the realm of literacy and storytelling. And there’s more. By virtue of their speciality, maps attract some of the most breathtaking applications of geometry imaginable. All in a language we’re hardwired to understand.

Add to that the fact that using maps in this way creates a list of affordable learning excursions into the world that kids actually inhabit, and you are beginning to tap into the potential for map making as a tool for connecting to place.

Okay, time for some examples.

Gapuwiyak is a town that I described in another post as being the size of a postage stamp. Its positioned adjacent to a lake with a diameter of around 1km during the dry season. Surrounding the town and lake on all sides is a forest of eucalyptus, grass trees, shrubs and the occasional cyprus pine.

The first thing I do with every class is bring up an image of the area on Google Maps. Whether I’m planning to go down the path of literacy or artistry and no matter the age group, I start with that image. I look at it with the kids, move it around a little and point out some land marks. Basically I spend some time adjusting to the idea that this will be our frame of reference. Then I go into what I have planned. Here is an example from primary school class I'm taking for 90 minutes each week. The example documents the first two of those weeks to date.

Project Title “Rali (Here)”

This project aims to establish a bilingual frame of reference and provide some explanation for its relevance, provide a narrative, arts based scaffold for curricular education, ground that education in place and experience and cultivate a sense of shared responsibility and belonging.

To be continued...

I'll post other examples of this sort of thing from various angles and with various age groups in the coming weeks. If you'd like to subscribe to receive my letters and updates by email please use the form in the side or at the bottom of the page or click here.

Letters Home #3 "Remote Voices"

Thanks to everyone for your continuing support in reading these letters. I've posted a collection of photos relating to this one at the end of the post.

Letter #3 "Remote Voices"

The other night I dreamed I was in a park, waiting to see a man about a horse. It was a white horse and I planned to have my photo taken with it. But when the man arrived I saw that the horse was emaciated. Through its white skin I could see every one of its ribs. I gathered some hay and went to offer food to the horse. But the man stopped me. He said the horse was on a strict diet. I implored the man to let me feed the horse but he was adamant. I said he was abusing the horse, that I had no choice but to call the Police. An officer arrived but he was unable to help. So I went with him to petition the superintendent. He too was unable to help. So I met with the lawyer, who tried to make a case but eventually had to give up. Thus I found myself standing in the hall of the President. I was nervous but pretended not to be when I barged into his office and sat down. The President was a fat man with an oversized monobrow pasted to his forehead. He sat behind a large wooden desk. I wasn’t sure whether to trust the President but I told him that something ought to be done. He responded calmly and somewhat assured. He said the problem was more complex than I knew, that I hadn’t every side of the story. I was unsatisfied, but I’d reached the end of a road and I woke up.

On my second day in Gapuwiyak I met Judy Davey. Judy was one of a handful of pioneering missionaries to arrive here in 1969 with enough saw milling equipment to start a town. She was sent by an organisation called Methodist Overseas Mission (MOM), one of two organisations that many people hold responsible for some of the darkest social policies in Australia’s history. In the first half of the twentieth century, efforts to ‘protect’ and ‘assimilate’ Aboriginal people achieved stolen children and terrestrial alienation. Yet for all the tragedy that lies at the feet of MOM - and there is no shortage of it - by the time Gapuwiyak was established the missionaries were in principle committed to non-interference with Yolngu tradition, self-determination and claims for land rights, and they preached a contextualised brand of Christianity that allowed Yolngu to appropriate tenets of the faith from their own frames of reference. I don’t intend to go any further than those principles down the rabbit hole of validity. Suffice to say that Judy told me Gapuwiyak was established in response to fears that BHP, who were mining further north, would make their way into the area. That representatives of 7 or so clans, with homelands stretching 30km in every direction, shared with missionaries a vision for a self sustaining centre for commerce and spirit that would send a message to the mining juggernauts to keep their distance. Several town elders corroborate Judy's story. And so it was that 30 people from a disparate set of distinct groups came together to mill timber, build roads and maintain supplies of water and power. In exchange they received food, tobacco, medical care, protection and education.

According to Judy, in the early days of Gapuwiyak all decisions were left to a group of community elders. That included the allocation of jobs, the resolution of disputes and the transmission of lore and custom. The missionaries refrained from interfering in traditional ceremonies, of which funerals in particular were a significant part of people’s lives and still are today. In fact, on the day I arrived in Gapuwiyak a funeral ceremony that had been going for two weeks was coming to an end. The sound of clap sticks echoed day and night from the ceremonial grounds in the centre of town. It was too soon after my arrival to presume an invitation but I look forward to satisfying the curiosity summoned by the sound of those clap sticks. Like Judy I came to Gapuwiyak in response to a call to serve this community. In my first four days here I’d already come up with at least that many revolutionary ideas. And on the night before my first day at Gapuwiyak School as a volunteer arts educator, enlisted to run various art projects for community development, I went to bed positively enchanted. That same night I dreamt of the white horse.

The next day only 30 of the 220 children enrolled were in attendance at Gapuwiyak School. The day started with a school-wide march in the streets. Two Yolngu teachers corralled the students and played call and response with slogans beckoning more to attend. Through a loudspeaker they pleaded with a silent town, imploring parents to send their children. It was a demonstration that I’m told takes place twice per term. And during each school day a team of Yolngu Attendance Officers are on alert to dissuade children from leaving during recess and lunch. Inevitably though days end with fewer than they begin, leaving fingers to point in many directions, each a story to tell.

Having left Gapuwiyak in 1975 Judy returned in the late 1990s. By then things were very different. Though they welcomed her with familial affection the people were largely unemployed and disaffected. The growing town had attracted new infrastructure but local people were never trained to sustain it. Changes to building regulations in the wake of Cyclone Tracey meant civil works were completed entirely by FIFO contractors. Only the General Store remained a source of stable employment. For others it was enough to collect 'sit down money' from Government leases. In Judy’s words, whereas before she was here to build a town and church, when she returned in the '90s her mission was of a different nature. This time she was a symbol of the past. Here “to rise up the old memories and spirits [and say] this is what your fathers were like, this is what your grandfathers… a reminder of what was done in the past. A reminder of where the community had come from. A reminder of what could be achieved.”

Judy’s story is call to remember that what brought people together here was never easy access to food or state of the art facilities. It was never token pleasantries exchanged from behind thin veils of proclaimed respect. It was the shared responsibility of carrying out a shared vision. So what’s the vision now? The windscreen is foggy at best. But clues lie in the rear view mirror. In the stories that stretch from the present moment to the distant past, remote voices of grandmothers and grandfathers, their triumphs and mistakes, their hopes and dreams.

When the early missionaries arrived in Arnhem Land they carried a story. A story that remains deep in the fabric of our Judaeo-Christian culture to this day. The story goes that following the great flood the people of earth proceeded to build a city and tower that would reach to heaven. But their efforts were thwarted by God, who scattered them into nations with different languages, each unable to understand the others. The early missionaries interpreted the story to mean that no heavenly tower would ever be built until everyone was the same. Later missionaries like Judy began to see their tower for what it really was - a problem more complex than any one interpretation can resolve, a white horse. After all, from God’s perspective the story of Babel is a warning not to attempt the hubristic task of heavenly infrastructure.

In contrast there is one of the histories of Gapuwiyak as dreamed by the Yolngu. In that story two men were walking from Yirrkala when they saw a small pond with a little bit of water but not enough to drink. They walked to a nearby site of sacred men’s business and found a tree suitable for yidaki (didgeridoo). They chopped it down and painted it beautifully. Then the two men danced and one man was singing and one man was dancing. They sang about the Wurran bird. Then they saw the Wurran was flying to the small pond and was carrying a small fish but there was not enough water in the pond to put the fish in. So the fish started talking to the men and said “Can you get the yidaki and put it in the middle of the pond.” The two men slammed the yidaki down in the middle of the pond and gapu (water) began coming up through its middle. It kept coming until their was a huge lake of water. The men, the bird and the yidaki are still there today. From a version of the story published by Brendon Ganambarr

The two stories, together with that of Judy Davey, begin to paint a composite picture of Gapuwiyak. Its a complex history through which no simple story can chart a course. And yet, perhaps a simple story is the first step towards a shared vision. So I wrote one. And together with two Yolngu teachers, we translated it and told it to the kids at Gapuwiyak School. The story goes...

A long time ago
Near a big lake
There were some people,
Yolngu people
And Balanda people,
They needed to build a town.
The Balanda people were good at building
And the Yolngu people knew the history of the lake and how to find food,
So they decided to work together.
But there was a problem.
The Balanda people spoke English
And the Yolngu people spoke Yolngu Matha,
So even though they were standing together they couldn’t speak.
It was becoming dark so the people lit a fire.
Suddenly a bird landed nearby.
It was a big black bird and it made a loud sound.
The Yolngu people saw the bird and called its name, “Wak!"
The Balanda people saw the bird too and called its name, “Crow!"
The people looked across and they understood -
To work together
They must first learn each other’s names.

With that I enlisted the help of a man called P--- to commence teaching me Yolngu Matha. I’ve no idea how far I’ll get. But as far as the question of how best to serve this community, it’s the way forward. And in the meantime I’ll continue to work diligently to provide the young people here with every opportunity to express themselves in the only universal language that no one understands. Art.

And of course I’ll keep writing about it in English.

Background Reading

Davey, G & J (2014). 'A Brief History of Gapuwiyak 1969 - 1975' unpublished pdf, accessed from Gapuwiyak Art Centre Archive, July 2018.

Dewar, M. (1995). ‘The ‘Black War’ in Arnhem Land’, The Australian National University North Australia Research Unit, Canberra.

Kadiba, J. 1998. ‘The Methodist Mission and the emerging Aboriginal Church in Arnhem Land 1916 – 1977’, Thesis submitted for Doctor of Philosophy through the Faculty of Education, Northern Territory University.

This past week I've been telling a story about turtles. Its inspired by a Native American motif I came across that relates the pieces of the turtle's shell to the twenty eight days of the month and explains their occurrence by a fall from grace. I wove in some seasonal themes and the concept of hibernation. At bush school we usually follow this story with some clay and invite the kids to make little turtles. They can draw shell designs in the clay with sticks and then make hibernariums for their turtles to rest in. We also play predator/prey type games in which the kids have to embody turtles looking for food, when the hungry eagle swoops in the kids have to curl up into their shells or else get eaten by the predator.

Turtle, 2018, ink on paper, 20cm x 15cm

Turtle, 2018, ink on paper, 20cm x 15cm

Long ago turtle's shell was smooth as stone. Like today he lived in small ponds and swam around in search of food. It was summer and there was plenty to eat. Turtle would swim around looking for insects and crustaceans. Occasionally he would poke his long neck out of the water and take a look around. On one such occasion turtle noticed that some of the trees were losing their leaves, it was windy and the air was growing cold. There were less insects and crustaceans about. Winter was coming and soon there would be no food to eat. In the distance Turtle saw Heron, a large bird with long legs, preparing to fly north with the sun. Turtle approached Heron and asked if he could accompany her on her journey. But how would she carry him? She asked. Turtle had an idea. He fetched a stick and asked Heron to hold it between her feet. Turtle gripped the stick with his front claws and held on tight. Okay, he said, I'm ready. So Heron flapped her wings and took off into the air. Higher and higher she went, all the while Turtle held tight to the stick. When they were quite high Turtle looked down. He'd never been so high up before and was shocked by the bird's eye view! So shocked in fact that in his surprise he let go of the stick and began falling to the ground. His heavy shell hit the ground with a loud crack, splitting into many pieces. Heron flew down after him. When she landed she found Turtle in a great deal of pain. He was too injured to fly and would have to remain in the pond while his shell healed. So Heron helped Turtle find a safe place in the pond to rest. She soothed him until he fell into a deep sleep. Turtle slept so long that when finally he woke the sun had returned and it was spring. Turtle's shell had completely healed. Every crack was now a scar. Together they made a beautiful pattern.

So it is that every winter Turtle recalls his misadventure and chooses to rest cosily in his shell, recover his energy and emerge just in time for spring.

A Story about Resilience

This story was inspired by two encounters. The first was with a comment by Dr Jordan Peterson, he said during one of his lectures, "You are the last in an unbroken string of successful reproducers going back three and a half billion years." Those words struck me to my core. The second was an encounter with the parent of a child who was suffering from attacks of anxiety. I see this a lot and I suffer from anxiety myself from time to time. Its really hard. There are lots of people out there developing tools to help. Some of them might even work. But at the same time, like all technology, tools come and go, not everyone can access the same ones and its important not to mistake the tools for the solutions. I think the actual solution has more to do with accessing the quality of human beings that for thousands of years has given rise to tools. We are resourceful and resilient by nature. We have to be. But we forget. And it helps to be reminded. And the best way to be reminded is for someone or something to hold a mirror to that part of ourselves which is the last in an unbroken string of successful reproducers going back three and half billion years.

So, with that in mind I wrote this story...

Once the sun and the earth made a seed. The rain watered the seed and it sprouted two leaves, then a stem and then two branches. The sun and earth watched the seed become a little plant. One day the plant woke up. It looked down and got such a fright! Oh no it thought, I am so far from the ground, what if I were to fall? The plant was very worried. So worried that it stopped growing altogether. The sun and the earth were worried too, for they watched the plant refuse to grow. So they sent the wind to help the plant. The wind listened to the plants worries and suggested that perhaps the plant would be better off as a bird, for birds can fly and so there would be no chance of falling over. The plant agreed and so the wind transformed it into a bird. The bird flew a great distance until it came to a large forest. The forest was full of enormous trees. The bird was amazed by the trees. It landed on a branch high in the canopy. Oh dear said the bird aloud to the tree, you must be terrified! The tree responded to the bird in a low and gentle voice. Dear bird, it said, how old do you think I am? Maybe three? Said the bird. And how old do you think trees are? The bird was confused, what do you mean? Well, said the tree, I may be three but I am a tree and trees are 300 million years old. And for all that time we’ve been learning to stand without falling, and all that we’ve learned is inside every one of us. So you see dear bird, it is my nature to remain standing. The bird was amazed. It thanked the tree and flew back to its home. When it arrived the wind was waiting. It asked the bird how things were going now that it could fly. The bird replied that things were great but would the wind please transform it into a tree? They’ve been learning to stand for 300 million years!

Resilience, 2018, ink on paper, 18cm x 14cm

Resilience, 2018, ink on paper, 18cm x 14cm

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Nabras Prime: Love and Loss

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Nabras Prime: Love and Loss Empty Nabras Prime: Love and Loss

Post  Rena Dautry on Sat Mar 10, 2012 2:36 pm

Rena folded her arms over his chest, resting a chin against them and grinning at him. The two of them were rivals as children, which, as it turned out, brought about a stirring passion within them both. It was true that they always argued, but the arguments usually lead to more pleasant things. Add to that the certain forbidden nature of their relationship, and it was a recipe for disaster, but they were teenagers, and it didn’t particularly matter to them.

Jorge chuckled at her as he folded his arms behind his head. “What?” He asked, and then after a brief pause, he smirked at her. “That’s uncalled for,” having read her surface thoughts with ease.

“It’s true, though,” Rena pushed herself up and began to dress. She had things to do that afternoon. August was sitting in trade negotiations with Father, and it was her turn to sit with Father’s first officer as he went about conducting ship business on the Everlasting Divinity. This was an exciting time, actually, as next year she and August would both be placed on one of Father’s ships. They were both to work on those ships for a few years, and then work with Mother’s agribusiness a few years. Rena was not looking forward to the latter. She was tired of being planet bound.

Jorge twitched slightly, but Rena ignored it. He chuckled and proceeded to dress himself. As Rena was redoing her hair, Jorge snuck up behind her and held her close, suggestively. “Tonight behind old Binetto’s barn,” he whispered in her ear, and then he left.

Rena shook her head, laughing softly. Jorge never asked anymore. It was a given, he thought, that she would show up. She paused in mid-thought, glancing at herself in the mirror. It never occurred to her that, as she hoped to become the heir to their Father’s Warrant, she couldn’t let Jorge presume to tell her where to be or when. Not until, now. The thought was fleeting, however, and she dismissed it readily. Hormones win again.

That night, though, Jorge was not where he had said he would be. Rena checked her chrono one last time before she decided to try to covertly check on him at his Father’s estate. She didn’t mind that she was forbidden to be with Jorge. She couldn’t see herself joining him in some permanent marriage contract. Besides, her father had bigger plans in mind for his children. He was adamant that none of them would marry anyone of a lesser rank than he or their mother. As one of her Mother’s citizens, Jorge’s parents were not considered suitable in-laws, though they were of a powerful noble family on Nabras.

Adept in slipping into Jorge’s room from the second floor balcony using a nearby tree, Rena skillfully made it into the estate’s manor. The room was dark, but she was accustomed to that. She whispered Jorge’s name, but the response she received wasn’t the one she was expecting.

Rena paused. Rarely did Jorge ever speak into her mind; it was a frivolity that was highly discouraged except for the direst of circumstances. Cautiously, the young woman slipped out of the room and down the hall. She made sure to avoid the creaking boards and any servants in the house. Oddly, she had encountered a few of the maids, but, after having barely escaped their notice, Rena began to feel as if their behavior might have been a bit unusual, strange even. Dismissing it, she made her way down the several flights of stairs, trying to determine where Jorge was.

There it was again. Rena shivered. There was something off about this whole situation. Jorge had been acting just a little strangely over the course of the last week, but it hadn’t occurred to Rena that something more than just an aggravation over their secret liasons was the cause. Now, though, she had the eeriest feeling that she should have paid closer attention. Distracted by her thoughts, Rena ran into someone even as she was trying to be stealthy. It was Jorge’s father, Carlos Menandez.

“Master Menandez! I’m…,” Rena chuckles nervously, “What am I doing here? I could have sworn I had snuck into my Mother’s estate. I am terribly sorry, if you’ll just…” She stopped. Carlos hadn’t done a thing or said a word to her. Normally, he would be shouting vehemently in the ancient Nabras tongue, worried that he would be punished by her Matriach of a grandmother by allowing her to be there. When she took a moment to study him, she realized he was staring blankly at the door in front of him. “Master Menandez?” Nothing. “Sir?” Still nothing. She jostled his shoulder, “Carlos?”

Rena’s feeling of unease increased, her heart fluttering. Jorge… She thought to herself. She had no evidence to tell her that Jorge was responsible, but there was something about this, added to his odd behavior that week, that just screamed ‘out of control psyker,’ and the only psyker capable of this in this household… was Jorge.

Rena ignored the mental whispers. The more she thought about this, the more terrified she was… and the more sad. She knew what had to be done. A psyker of Jorge’s potential couldn’t be allowed to continue to misuse his abilities. With a shaking hand, Rena drew the laspistol she was given to train with. She took in deep breaths and, thinking upon the danger of the situation, concentrated deeply on her Grandmother. Of all the psykers with telepathic tendencies on Nabras, her grandmother was the most powerful. She just hoped the old woman was listening, and that Jorge was not trying to hinder her.

NO! The mental shout was enough to stagger Rena. She steadied herself on the railing next to the stairs using her free hand. She knew then that she had to create for herself a mental wall, the kind of wall that her Grandmother had taught her to build. It was no more than simply strengthening one’s will, but the mental picture of a wall always helped Rena to accomplish the goal.

Stepping into the grand hall in which the Menandez’s met with visitors, Rena finally saw Jorge. He stood with his back to her. If ever she was going to make her move, she should do it now, but she hesitated. This was Jorge. She had grown up with him. As she stood poised to shoot, Jorge turned. His eyes shimmered in the darkness of the grand room.

Rena,” he whispered, “So concerned for the boy child. Come walk into the parlor. NO! No. Rena, go away. Stay! I insist. No time like the present to discuss your future. Shut up! Stop it! Hahaha, it is too late, boy child! A deal is a deal. Stop fighting. Argh!”

Rena watched with rising fear as Jorge argued with… himself? Was he insane or was he… Had he succumbed to the daemons of the Warp? With the two of them distracted, Rena knew she should make her move. Again, she aimed her laspistol at Jorge’s head.

NOOO!” Jorge growled, focusing on Rena. For the briefest of moments, Rena found it difficult to move her hand. Steeling her will, she regained control of herself, but to keep him off-guard, she lowered the laspistol just a little.

“I could never shoot you, Jorge,” she whispered. Jorge relaxed and smiled.

“Rena,” Jorge spoke, “I never told you this, but I… I want you to join me. We could be great together. Great leaders for our people. Rena, I lo—“

The laspistol rose and delivered a piercing blast to Jorge’s eye. As Jorge fell to the floor, Rena dropped the laspistol, her hand raising to her face. Leaning against the wall, the strength in her legs gave, and she slid to the floor. She fought the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. It had to be done. Jorge had fallen. He had made his choice. He had made a pact with a daemon of the Warp. It was only then that she realized how lucky she was to be alive. She’d heard stories, even seen the results of the Oriah Incident on the Southern Continent. A daemonhost was a formidable opponent even to the fiercest of her Mother’s psyker police. She shivered, hugging herself, and stared at Jorge’s still form on the floor. That’s how the back up that her grandmother sent found her.

Hours later, Rena sat with a hot cup of cider in her hand in her grandmother’s study. Her mother and her grandmother were working together to straighten out the political mess that was the Menandez House, now. Everyone in the manor, save for herself, had been irreparably damaged. The entire family and household had been euthanized after the Council had walked through the manor, finding nothing redeemable in anyone’s mind. Now, with a different sort of terror in her heart, Rena waited for the inevitable scolding.

Finally, Grandmother entered. Her mother wasn’t there, likely dealing with other matters relating to the incident. After she treated herself to her own cup of cider, she settled slowly into her chair, setting her cane off to the side. She was an old woman, but her mind was still sharp. After a few minutes of silent introspection, Grandmother spoke.

“Do you know why we rejected the possibility of uniting our House with that of the Menandez line through you and Jorge?” Her old voice crackled. She sipped of her cider while she waited on Rena’s answer.

Rena thought this an odd question to ask in light of recent events. She squeezed the warm cup of cider in both hands, taking a deep breath before answering. “Mother and Father did not wish me or my siblings to join with Houses of lesser rank.” That was the story, anyway.

Grandmother shook her head gravely, “That, my child, was not the only reason. When it was apparent that there was an attraction between the two of you, I did a Foretelling.” She gestured to the cards on her table. “The answer was a very strong and adamant no. There was an inclination that the House would fall to evil before you were even ready to enter into a Union. With that in mind, we did monitor them closely.”

Rena’s brow wrinkled as she stared at the old woman. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Grandmother sighed softly, “My child, remember your lessons. A Foretelling can be changed in some circumstances. We would not want an anathema planted against the Menandez family if the evil had been somehow deterred.”

Staring at the cup of cider in her hands, Rena’s mind whirled with turmoil and a hundred thousand different questions. There were so many of them that she didn’t know what to say.

“I can’t answer every question that is roiling through your mind, dear, but I can answer one. We were monitoring the situation, but I had also Foretold another piece of information.”

Rena looked up at her Grandmother.

“That you, my dear, have great things to accomplish in your life, and you needed that moment there in the Menandez estate to realize your potential.” And with that the conference was over, and Grandmother sent Rena to her quarters – bewildered.
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Thursday, 9 February 2017

FantasyCon 2017 - Peterborough

We have now booked for this year's Fantasycon, which will be held at the Bull Inn, Peterborough between the 29th September and the 1st October.

We'll be arriving the night before the convention starts so we can get our Parallel Universe Publications table set up in good time for when guests arrive.

This is me showing off our full-page advert in the programme book at last year's convention in Scarborough. We intend to book another full-page ad in this year's programme.

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Inorganisms workshop wrap up

First of all, thanks to everyone who’s come out to workshops this week. It’s been tons of fun, and we’ve made some excellent Inorganisms. The workshop week started off relatively quietly with Taylor and I working at his studio on Monday evening (thanks again Taylor for having me over there!), but picked up through the week with a couple of people dropping by the Logan Square table (thanks Comfort Station) and a full compliment of workshoppers at the library (thanks Harold Washington Maker Lab).

I’m spending the morning today back at the Harold Washington Maker Lab, just finishing off some of the work we’ve done over the week. And then my residency comes to a close. I’ll post a final wrap up post with pictures and links to code, but I wanted to say now, it’s been great and I can’t wait to come back to Chicago!

Pig Pen Theatre Co. at the Old Town School of Folk Music

I had the absolute privilege last night of seeing the PigPen Theatre Co. play at the Old Town School of Folk Music last night with Brian and Carla. They and their opening act,  the Morningsiders were fantastic.

First, the venue. The Old Town School of Folk Music seems like an incredible institution. In its 50-plus years it has served as a teaching, collaboration, and concert venue to musicians of all skill levels and folk-related interests. The actual theatre was a lovely space to take in the show.

The Morningsiders kicked off an excellent show with an upbeat folk set interspersed with interesting factoids (for example, apparently unless they tell people how to spell their name, there are 64 possible permutations of reasonably valid spellings). I thoroughly enjoyed these guys and I’ll definitely be listening to them for some time to come!

Then there was the main act. PigPen is an interesting musical entity. They are primarily a theatre troupe (I can’t wait to see one of their stage shows), but they have also released two albums and are fantastic as a live band. Their songs tend to build from a single voice to a raucous crescendo and their stage presence and comedic timing – I’m sure the performance training helps here – are some of the best I’ve ever seen. If you get the chance, go see these guys in concert!

Check out below for a sample of their music!


text:
INTRODUCING the DSL Edgework Online Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training

  • Are You a Massage / Bodywork Therapist?
  • Or a Yoga Teacher / Therapist?
  • Or Other Form of Soft Tissue Therapy?

Are You Looking For Ways To BE On The Leading Edge of Soft Tissue Therapy? And to Expand & Deepen Your Therapeutic Insights,* Skills & Knowledge?

* The world is over-flowing with information.
What we need more of is INSIGHT!

Kyle Wright's Schools Utilize DSL's Core Massage - Bodywork Therapy Training

Kyle C. Wright’s Schools of Advanced Bodywork in the Southeastern U.S. Utilize DSL Edgework as Part of Their Core Curriculum (Click Photo above to go to Kyle’s website)

Insights available to YOU in the DSL Beta Online Training & Coaching Program

Are You Looking For Ways To Increase Your Value To Your Clients and Prospective Clients, and Grow Your Practice? And Maintain Your Fees or Increase Them?

Does It Appear An “Evolutionary Integration” of Clinical Massage & Structural Bodywork with Modern Postural Yoga* Is A Part Of Your Future?

AKA: Conscious B.E.S.T. …
Breathing, Exercise & Stretching Technique

Especially if it was all based on a Wide Range of
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AND if it’s all Grounded in Modern, Scientific Principles, most of which are well accepted by Modern Medical Research?

Then This Might Well Be
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And By-the-Way, when was the last time you participated in a training specifically designed FOR YOU by ASKING YOU what you needed and wanted before the training even started?

More on that later.

How Do YOU Become THE Leading Edge Innovator
& Practitioner in Your Area, Creating a Clinical Massage / Structural Bodywork Business Supporting Your Objectives in Life & Therapeutic Practice?

And Earn the TRUST & LOYALTY of Your Clients
… and the FEES that go with it?

Let’s Face It …

Unless You‘re Already A Leading Edge Therapist,

The Economics of the Bodywork Business Are Not What They

Used To Be. And WE Are Going To CHANGE That for YOU!

The ECONOMICS of Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training

With hundreds or thousands of new massage therapists coming onto the market, the Laws of Supply & Demand coupled with the Principles of Business & Marketing, say that with very rare exceptions, no matter how “good” you are, you’ll probably have to do some things different then others to gain or maintain the levels of income you need and desire.

Even the BEST of therapists can have appointment slow downs if they do not keep in touch with their Clients, keep finding new Clients, keep reminding them why the cheaper therapists down the street aren’t probably their best investment, and how massage therapy and bodywork are long-term investments in their health & well being.

Of course, it helps if YOU believe all that too!

So here are the Big Questions:

HOW Do You Give Greater VALUE to Your Clients?

HOW Do You Become a Most Trusted Resource?

HOW Do You Become the Best Choice Among All Others?

… And Receive the Rewards for Doing So?

My answer to those questions is summed up in this Question …

What is it about YOU, making you the Best Choice among all others in your area?

Why should a potential or existing Client only consider YOU as their preferred and trusted massage / bodywork therapist?

And why is it important for them to continue engaging your services as an on-going Client?

If you can answer those questions with a great degree of certainty, and can back them up, you have a far better position in the marketplace than most of your competitors. …

And it can be friendly competition, by-the-way. It doesn’t have to be ruthless. In fact, proper cooperation with your “competitors” could be good to great for everyone involved. … More on that later.

A SOLUTION to the PROBLEMS of Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training

Introducing the DSL 3.o BETA On-Line Clinical Massage

& Bodywork Practice Enhancement Training

DSL: Dynamics of Self-actualized Learning

3.0: Third Generation of the Therapy System

BETA: First Time, Ground Breaking

You can read an in-depth description of the thinking behind this program HERE.

OR, you can dig right in and see what this program involves, and what you’re going to get out of it, below. … So Please Keep Reading …

What You’ll Be Doing & Learning in the Program:

✔ First & Foremost, we are going to create for You a clear, concise statement as to why and how YOU are THE BEST option for your Clients and Prospects in your area. This might take some time to construct (unless you’re already really clear on it).

But it will be an Authentic Self Statement of who you are and what you do, and a Critical Centerpiece of your Business & Marketing Efforts. It will be the Organizing Force of most of your professional actions. It will include your Vision of what a Superior Practitioner is, and how to be Preeminent in your field.

Too many people, most people, do NOT do this step. For one thing, it is NOT as easy as it sounds. Yet those people who do it get superior results because of the clarity they bring to all their interactions. … This is NOT a “mission statement,” BTW. Yet it does include the question of WHY you do what you do, and what drives you. It is somewhat like a roadmap for you.

You will also be getting Very Clear on WHO your Preferred Clients are. You’ll know what kind of therapy you want to do, under what conditions, and who for. And you’ll be more able to focus your marketing efforts and find the people whom are the best fit for you, and you for them.

This is where Your Best Self meets your Best Clients. Some of the greatest marketers on Earth call this “Spiritual Marketing,” because you really have to get to know yourself at a deeper level, and you’ll get to know your Clients at a deeper level, too. Sometimes better than they know themselves. And because of that, you’ll be of much greater service to them.

And they will know it and feel it.

✔ Second, the Program will be devoted to setting you on the path toward actually BEING or BECOMING the person described in your Authentic Self Statement. As the program goes on, you might find your statement changing, and that’s okay. We’ll be figuring out what you need to Learn, Know and Do, what Skills you need to develop, to manifest your Authentic Self.

You will probably NOT get the whole way there in this 12 week program. Yet you will have a clear picture of your path and what you need to do.

We’ll also work on writing your basic marketing pieces to include and embrace all those elements. (I’m hoping to do on-line, Skype interviews of each participant you can use on your website. No website, you’ll have one at very low cost if you want. I won’t make any money on that, BTW.)

✔ Third, when it comes to Clinical Massage & Myo-Structural Bodywork, you’ll learn the highest level of knowledge, insight, and skills I’ve developed over the last 40 years of research, practice, innovation, and teaching. The idea is A.) you will have Superior Knowledge & Skill, making your therapy strategies more refined; and B.) you will be able to explain these things to your existing Clients and possible Prospects in crystal clear language and concepts they can understand; and C.) explain your work to therapists & physicians in the medical, osteopathic, naturopathic, or chiropractic world, in their terminology.

One of MY goals is to move you toward being able to sit down with a neurologist and within a few minutes let them know that you really know what you’re talking about. And that you will be good for their patients.

Part of this is to discover the various little known gems of knowledge & insight that will set you apart as The Expert with unique and useful knowledge. Ideas such as why great posture is NOT usually a matter of strong muscles. Or how sit ups cause pot belly & love handles and put stress on the spine, rather than support it. How abs of iron and buns of steel can lead to backs of pain. How too much “fitness” can be bad for your health. Why No Pain means MORE Gain. Why much “weakness” is actually “pseudo-weakness,” and does NOT usually require strengthening to fix it. Why hard muscles are not (necessarily) healthy muscles. And so on.

You’ll be said a lot of stuff to people they’ve never heard before, and it will make sense to them. And of course, they will remember … YOU!

More importantly, your insights into why these ideas are true helps people be healthier in multiple ways. And of course, when they think of things like their posture, stretching, or exercise, who do you think they’ll think of? Especially when they discover what you’re saying to be TRUE and it WORKS!

DETAILS of the Online, Private Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training

This Program will include:

► Nature & Physiology of C.E.M.&.N.T. (Chronic, Excess Muscle & Nerve Tension & Stress),

► C.E.M.&.N.T. as the THE Primary Object of neuro-musculo-fascial & structural therapy.

BodyMind Breakdowns: How C.E.M.&.N.T. impairs healthy body functions

Body Mechanics & Self Care Techniques

Advanced Structural Anatomy & Functional Kinesiology leading too …

BIO-Structural Balancing & Postural Assessment

Physical Sciences including Structures such as Hydro-Tensegrity Structures

Physiology & Neurology of the Psycho-Neuro-Musculo-Fascial system

Principles & Techniques of Psycho-Muscular Release & Relaxation

► A Range of Pathologies (such as Scoliosis) and how to work with them

Integrating Postural Yoga Therapy into a Bodywork Practice

► A Western Approach to Physical, Mental & Relational Yoga & Mindfulness

Elegant Aging / Anti-Aging with Whole Health Principles

(My Objective here is to set you on the path to being the MOST knowledgeable person in your area on how all bodywork, yoga, and the human body work and breakdown. You might not master this material in the 12 weeks. But you will know how you’re going to get there, and be well on the way. The more you know how the human body works normally, the better you’ll get at knowing how to work with C.E.M.&.N.T. and resolve Bodymind Breakdowns. … Unfortunately, not all people learn this more scientific stuff as quickly as others. If anyone needs further education here, we can accommodate that in a future program or private tutoring.)

✔ Fourth, both as a group and 1-on-1 with me, we’ll work on developing your ability to Communicate & Market your work to your Existing Clients and Prospects. We’ll support each other on developing clarity of our messages and explanations to Clients and Prospects. This will include creating the Memorable Phrases you’ll use to get your Clients thinking about you whenever a health care issues comes up.

✔ Fifth, all through the program, we’ll be looking for opportunities where we can all, be it individually or collectively, work to literally move the Clinical Massage & Structural Bodywork field ahead. We’ll be looking for ways to expand the market, increasing the number of people who use massage therapy as Clients. We’ll look for ways to get our work into hospitals and clinic settings, but do so in ways where we are not just low wage laborers. That one might be tough, but there are massage and even yoga people working in those environments.

✔ Sixth, I will, especially in our weekly, 1-on-1, Private Coaching sessions, be supporting You in seeing yourself as a Leading Edge Innovator, an Expert in the field, an Important Resource to your Clients & Community. One way to look at it is, if all of a sudden YOU were teaching this program, what would you do? What would you say? How would you do it?

(One of the philosophical precepts I work under or live by is Time-Binding. That’s the idea that every generation has the opportunity to help the next generation start out at a higher level. If I’m a good time-binder, my objective is for YOU to become better at what I do than I am. Of course, that means I have to keep getting better, too., if I want to stay relevant and useful to society.)

✔ Seventh, one night a week, I’ll do an ope Q & A session. We’ll get started, and I’ll answer any question I can, as long as we are not going to cover it in depth later in the program. I won’t stop until you all run out of questions!

Here’s How The Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training Program Works …

1.) You will fill out a questionnaire to see if you are a good fit for the program. One question will be whether you are okay with using technology, or willing to learn, which is important to the program.

2.) You and I will have a 30 to 60 minute Skype call to discuss whether what I’m offering is of great value to You (or not), and that we can work together (or not). And I need to find out whether I have enough material to offer you. (Maybe you know everything I do already!?!?)

(I’m NOT going to try and sell everyone on taking this program. The last thing I want is unhappy people. You’ll also be selling me on YOU being in the program.)

(Installing Skype is easy, and will make the program go smoother. We can talk by phone, but it’s not the same.)

3.) If we decide it’s a GO, we will schedule a longer Skype call. You will then deposit $275 in my PayPal account to get started.

4.) First Skype Call: This is where we will start the Coaching aspect of the program, including starting on your Authentic Self Statement. It will most likely go one to two hours, possibly more. This will help me target tailoring the rest of the program to include what YOU need to get out of it. … If I don’t think I can help you with certain things, I’ll let you know, then give you ideas how to solve those problems I’m not so good at.

If we do not reach the 8 person minimum, I reserve the option of canceling the program. At that point, your $275 will go to Private Coaching with me, and I will give 8 to 10 hours of Private Coaching & Training time over the following few weeks. That means you’ll be paying only about $30 per hour for my time. I’m taking that risk because I know this is an ambitious program, and we might not find the necessary participants.

And you will learn a lot just from the one-on-one programs.

5.) We’ll do a weekly, private coaching Skype call until the program starts, and you will continue to have a weekly coaching call for the entire 12 week program. So you might end up with several extra hours of private coaching, depending on how long it takes to get the 8 participants!

I will admit there’s a marketing strategy there I didn’t even figure out till after I set it up this way, and something to learn from when we design YOUR marketing. Since this is a first come, first served program, you want to get signed on as soon as possible. But in return for doing so, you’ll get more time working with me privately. I think that’s a pretty good deal!

6.) Once the program starts, each week will be an on-line seminar (called a webinar) teaching the core material for the week. It will most likely be 2 to 3 hours long. And after I provide the material, I will stay on the line until all questions are answered on that topic. (This is separate form the weekly Q&A.)

7.) Each week, there will be another webinar where we will work, as a group, on the whole marketing and communication aspect of your business, including getting group feedback on your Authentic Self Statement. Think of this as a MasterMind program.

8.) Once a week will be the additional Q&A Session. It will be open format where you bring all your questions & concerns to me and the group.

9.) As an option, I will do Skype Consulting Calls with You and any of your Clients, should you wish to do so. These have worked out very well in the past, and Clients feel like they get a lot of good information and insight into their situation. And they pay for the consultation. (I will charge $30 for a half hour, $40 for 3/4 of and hour, $50 for an hour.)

To take better advantage of these, we will get into my system of postural assessment very early in the program. You’ll set up a plumb line — if you don’t have one already — and we’ll do the evaluations right over Skype. This might be tricky if you are tight on space at you facility, but we’ll do what we can.

• The weekly fee for the program will be $75 (Xs 12 weeks). That’s a total of $900. With the initial $275, that’s $1,175 Total. Basically, you’re either getting the one-on-one coaching for free, or the training for free, depending on how you look at it. And even at that, you’re getting them for a great price compared to what most good consultants and trainers charge.

FYI, the reason I’m charging such a low fee is this is the FIRST time I’m doing this program like this, and on-line. So there WILL be bugs and glitches, and I’ll probably have to reorganize things a few times. So

GENERAL LOGISTICS of the Massage – Bodywork Therapy Training

• The Program is a combination of On-Line Training & Personal / Group Coaching

• The Program will consist of 8 to 12 Participants (maximum).

• Once we hit 12 Participants, the doors close. (I have to keep quality high.)

• The Program will take place over 12 weeks.

• The Program will begin one week after we reach 8 Participants enrolled.

• It will be provided via on-line seminars, videos, PDF documents, and 1-on-1 Skype calls.

• It will take several hours of your time each week, between 5 and 8 hours.

• It will be recorded so that if you miss any sessions, you’ll be able to catch up.

• Because this is the First Time I’m doing this work in one whole package and on-line — and there WILL be bugs — especially with the on-line technology, you are going to get the Program as inexpensively as I can possibly afford to do it.

• The exception to this is if 8 or more students come from Kyle Wright’s schools, I will consider doing a separate program, possibly concurrent, IF we discover that their knowledge base would cause a problem with those who’ve not been through Kyle’s programs. In that case, I will consider doing two programs at this price. This will be determined in the extended initial Interviews, as described below.

Introduction to 12 Basic Elements of Whole Health Education. The objective here is to give you basic, not extensive, knowledge, making you a far more valuable health care resource to your Clients. Each week we’ll discuss one element, including: 1.) Principles of Whole Health Therapy; 2.) functions of Water, especially within muscle; 3.) Lymphology, mobilization & drainage; 4.) Breath, air & lungs; 5.) Microbiome of Gut Health; 6.) Detoxification; 7.) Body-Centered Psychotherapy for Bodyworkers, including Dr. Sarno’s emotional work; 8.) Harmony of Spinal & Joint Adjusting with Soft Tissue Therapy; 9.) Food, Nutrition, Diet, most up-to-date principles & findings; 10.) Fitness Fundamentals; 11.) Eyes, Nasal, Teeth & Gums; 12.) Elegant Aging (AKA Anti-Aging), and the latest findings.

(You will NOT be learning these to become a proficient therapist in those modalities. Our focus is on you becoming more knowledgeable as a Whole Health Guide for your Clients to know what else they should be working on in their Whole Health Paradigm. Ideally, you’ll start building a network of therapists who do provide such services, which will also help build your referral network. If enough of the group wants to go deeper in a particular area, we can create a different program, when this one is complete.)

Thanks for Reading,
David Scott Lynn (DSL*)
* DSL: Your Hi-Touch Up-Link to the Inner-Net
Inner-Net: Your Psycho-Neuro-Musculo-Fascial System

David Scott Lynn (DSL)

Beginning at 13 years of age, DSL's been involved with alternative philosophies & practices most of his life. Becoming a yoga teacher in 1976, then a hands-on bodyworker in 1981, he developed a unique & highly effective form of Yoga / Bodywork / Whole Health Fitness & Therapeutics. … David wrote the chapters on a wholistic philosophy & physiology of bodywork & stretching for the textbook Structural Balancing, published by McGraw-Hill, Inc. in 2010. … He is the author of Simple Steps to Let-Go Yoga, available at: … Several other e-books and e-courses are soon forthcoming at … David consults with Kyle C. Wright on massage school development at the Schools of Advanced Bodywork at

Latest posts by David Scott Lynn (DSL) (see all)

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Hot Stock Alerts

Potential Breakout Stocks of the Day:
Today's Biggest Gainers - Hot Stocks - AVP
Top Stocks 2020 - TNA GBTC
Top Penny Stocks 2020 - AVP
Top Marijuana Stocks - GWPH

Stock Market Closing Report - 7/19/19 July 19, 2019

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Dow Jones Close 5/10/17 Stock Market Closing Prices

Stock Market Closing Prices - May 10, 2017

Dow Jones Industrial Average ( DJIA ) Close  - 20943.11 Down 32.67
Nasdaq Stock Market Close - 6129.14 Up 8.55
S&P 500 Close - 2399.63 Up 2.71

Commodities Closing Prices - 5/10/17

Gold Close - 1220
Silver Close - 16.22
Oil Close - 47.43
Natural Gas Close - 3.28

The Dow Jones Industrial Average closed at 20943 on 5/10/17, as the stock market ended flat again.  The Dow Jones is having trouble around 21,000 but this is normal when something nears resistance.  I don't see anything that would indicate a stock market correction is coming but you just never know!

Shares of HTG Molecular Diagnostics, Inc. (HTGM) will continue to see volatility which is good for trading.  HTGM and PULM are my top stocks to watch looking forward.   China 3x Bull (YINN) and Small Caps 3x Bull (TNA) are strong buys on all major pullbacks in 2017.

Check out my Top Stocks 2017 page for the latest stock picks

Check out my Top Penny Stocks 2017 page for my latest penny stock picks


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 Airbus C295W Demos Capabilities in Hot, High Conditions | Al Defaiya

Airbus C295W Demos Capabilities in Hot, High Conditions

26.11.2015 South America
Airbus C295W Demos Capabilities in Hot, High Conditions

Airbus C295W Demos Capabilities in Hot, High Conditions

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An Airbus C295W aircraft belonging to the Mexican Navy (SEMAR) and operated by a mixed crew from Airbus Defence and Space and SEMAR has carried out demonstration flights in El Alto, La Paz, Bolivia, one of the airports with the most extreme hot and high conditions in the world.

The C295W, which landed at El Alto International Airport, more than 4,000m above sea level, on Tuesday, has also performed flights to the Cochabamba base and the unprepared runway of San Borja.

The new C295W version is equipped with winglets, which allow transport of more payload over larger distances in hot and high conditions and result in fuel savings of around 4%.

“The highly successful demonstration by the C295W in Bolivia this week underlines again its excellent performance in hot and high conditions, which is key for several countries in the Region. It demonstrates once more the C295W’s status as the most efficient aircraft in its category”, said Christophe Roux, Head of Airbus Defence and Space in Latin America.

The aircraft’s tour of the region will include stops in several countries of the Region before returning to Mexico in early December.

The Airbus Military C295 is a new generation, very robust and reliable, highly versatile tactical airlifter able to carry up to nine tonnes of payload or up to 71 personnel, at a maximum cruise speed of 260 kt /480 km/h. Fitted with a retractable landing gear and a pressurised cabin, it can cruise at altitudes up to 25,000 ft, while retaining remarkable short take-off & landing (STOL) performance from unprepared short, soft and rough airstrips, as well as low level flight characteristics.

Powered by two Pratt & Whitney Canada PW127G turboprop engines, the C295 provides an excellent manoeuvrability, outstanding hot and high performance, low fuel consumption and consequently a very long endurance of up to eleven hours in the air.

First delivered in 2001, the C295 is a developed version of the well-known CN235, offering greater capacity and range. Its simple systems design and robustness, its proven in service reliability, its excellent flying qualities and great versatility, as well as its remarkable transport capabilities make it the most efficient “workhorse” with the lowest fuel burn, as well as the best operating and maintenance costs in its category.

The civil and military certification of the C295 ensures compliance with the international airworthiness regulations and safety standards, including the stringent FAR 25 requirements.

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