That Wondrous Stuff

Sometimes we just let magic be magic... that wondrous stuff through which every day we move.

It becomes clearer, more ordinary with every charitable act.

As in forgiveness.

Which oddly, requires no energy.

Every experience we have every day; every light and sound we see and hear (all those colours of both); every bad thought we don’t enact; every thoughtful word we speak to a stranger is what makes our life and our death mask a thing of beauty.

KNOWING = PEACE

An Oil Transport Resolution?

Dear Editor:

Re Transporting Oil

All this fuss about oil transport, safety, environmental concerns, job creation etc etc can be rather easily resolved. Taking the Northern Gateway Pipeline as an example: Build the structure so as not to interfere with animal migrations or the growth of pristine habitats. With our super-science and technology today, surely we can do this, barring greedy corner-cutting. Then ship the ‘liquid gold’ in tankers HALF THE SIZE, thus almost absolutely eliminating the real threat – the dreaded oil spill. This possible resolution depends wholly on the oil companies to cooperate and stop overloading ludicrously long tankers and trying to shove them through a tangle of gulf islands and unpredictable seas.  

Advice to a Young Man

Hello young man,

Seldom have I met someone so young whose wit is so acute. Add to that, you’re a sight for sore eyes and some bell is ringing somewhere tolling: “This man is going to succeed!” But alas, bells can be off key. Depends on the ringer. That would be you. 

So I understand you’re taking a year off the schooling business to perhaps examine your options. Probably a wise choice. “Probably” because if you squander this year, it makes you vulnerable to that insidious disease, TV-itis.  That machine with its lights flickering constantly and people on a relentless screen showcasing an act of an act is a serious threat to a good young mind. It’s OK to remove that pacifier before a weird kind of sluggishness creeps in.

So allow me to make a couple of suggestions: take some time to read, perhaps study other languages (French and Spanish?), or cultures; read or pick up a pen and learn better your own language as you script your observations. Daily? Read about nutrition and the thrilling happenings in science; even the old farts are immensely enjoying their doctorates in genetics, physics, medical research and so many more avenues of light. They’re on a frontier and they know it.

Youth and beauty, through which you are just beginning to bloom now, are enchanting not only to others but even to yourself. The difference between a man and a flower is of course, free will. You can actually manage your own beauty and grow into a wise youth. And in that there is tangible pleasure. As your life takes on meaning, perhaps after all your schooling, you may notice how deeply satisfying it can be.

I urge you to use this year profitably… not just monetarily but more importantly intellectually. A man cannot enjoy a spiritual body of any worth leading to a secret continuity of pleasure if he hasn’t developed his intellectual muscles.

Yes, I have a few ideas about how you might make the most of your year off (assuming you intend to return to school which I totally and unreservedly support).

Perhaps a few words from you as to what you want to do with your life in that money-making department might help me give you at least advice that is pertinent.

A career in the creative world is full of twists and turns and tribulations and a horde of egomaniacs, all deluding themselves about the value of celebrity. But that is not to say that such careers wouldn’t be gratifying and potentially very lucrative. (I have two books in the library, another on the way, and I am still faced with ‘making a living.’ Now there’s a term I abhor: Life is given. Only the personality of the infinite can make a life.)

I’ll share in more detail the few ideas I have for you that might be helpful in the event you find anything here of interest. Whatever you decide and whenever, I do wish you well.     

My Hallowed Weeny Experience

Quite at the last hour before the festivities around Gastown, I got the impulse to go out. I had the brilliant idea that I would take a big brown paper bag, illustrate it with my coloured inks and pencils and make it into a mask. Well try finding a big brown paper bag these days. Used to be everywhere at all grocers etc. So I went home, now even more determined, and used 8 sheets of white paper out of my printer and began my Mickyangelello effort. By the time I was finished I had a tight fitting gruesome thing over my head and the closest I can come to describing it is to compare it to Heath Ledger's Joker in Batman. All raggedy and bloody-faced. I completed this look by wearing my Peruvian jacket zipped right up to the mask and crowned it all with my fedora. Off I skulked to the Blarney Stone where they don't charge me the ticket fee nor allow me to wait in line (my dancing is still appreciated).

When asked what was I? I started by answering "A bedbug" and swept my right palm down my left sleeve and asked in return, "Would you like to dance?" Well that wasn't working out too well, so my later reply was "A Bug" and then I got some dance action while having to re-jig my mask so the eye slits would realign themselves to my eyeballs; and eventually through my more dishevelled eye-slits managed to skulk home again with a few hilarious Boo! memories.