The term “freakism” was probably coined by the man jumping off the building here in 1970, Bart Howe. It was mostly a name we used for each other, a nod to those parts of us not in the mainstream. It grew to be a genuine “ism”, and also: a mantra, a rebel yell and outright babble at times.
Three decades have passed since we spent any time together; the last being a midwinter hike to the summit of Camel’s Hump, and an overnight stay under a Wolf Moon, where we fed the fire – literal and metaphorical – all night long.
Fast forward: I play music in nursing homes, and after one performance I emailed this little anecdote to a friend of mine:
“As I was packing up, this old gal with a rolling walker comes by, smiles and says ‘… nostalgic..’ and walks on. Inscrutable Zen Master, throwing down a koan !!! Yikes !!!”
And so I say there is more to nostalgia than first meets the mind’s eye.
This is one of my favorite end-of-winter shots, taken over twenty years ago with a 35mm film camera, and probably EPP film. It’s been a long time coming onto the blog here, even though it’s been in a show or two over the years.
More (film captures) to come, as I revisit and reorganize the archives.
There will probably be a few more snowfalls here in western MA, but the sun is getting higher and warmer, and in fact, there is now a four hour window for Vitamin D via sun exposure at this location (10AM-2PM, courtesy of dminder smartphone app). It would be nice to have a small three sided greenhouse for sunbathing this time of the year, to help with the wind; I saw a four sided one recently at Ocean State Job Lot for $40.
Sometimes the contrast between the enormity of this universe, and our lives here on earth, can seem so overwhelming that I have to throttle it back, and consider it only in dribs and drabs.
Around our house, we have an expression for these moments: “…this world…”. It’s a simple phrase but one usually articulated with a depth of feeling from places not normally accessed, expressing anything from deep disgust and despair to the warmest empathy and compassion, to wonder and gratitude.
Sometimes the tone is accusatory (HOW CAN/DOES THIS EXIST!!), sometimes prayerful (how can/does this exist, and, well, thank you !!), and sometimes just a witnessing.
Anne Lamott’s fine book, “Help, Thanks, Wow” explores these notions further, and, if you were to read only one book on prayer, it’s the one I would recommend.
At this time of the year, the town green in Ivoryton becomes, in the words of one local wag, “kinda like Las Vegas” (400,000 lights!!! the state’s largest living Christmas tree!!! etc. etc.) Here’s hoping they toned down the flashing lights this time around, but in any case, it’s magical and worth a trip.
The term “freakism” was probably coined by the man jumping off the building here in 1970, Bart Howe. It was mostly a name we used for each other, a nod to those parts of us not in the mainstream. It grew to be a genuine “ism”, and also: a mantra, a rebel yell and outright babble at times.
