americanifesto: sea

The dream started inside a building, which I escaped through a side door that opened onto a street paved with cobblestones. The outside was lit by a bright, white light. With me (on the right-hand side) was as always my psychopomp, as well as a female (on the left-hand side) whose face and features have faded from memory.

Together, we climbed through the open rear door into a automobile that looked like a standard, black Londonite taxicab. It was hitched via leather strapping to four-legged beasts that at first glance appeared to be cats. The driver’s perch had been mounted onto the roof, meaning that I had to climb up through the car’s open sunroof to man the reins.

We took off, rounding corners at speed, and were soon riding astride a seaside promenade made using cut blue granite and featuring an iron railing. People in Victorian-era dress strolled along the sidewalk to our right. Below and beyond them stretched the sea - deep blue and vastly calm, nary a wave or ripple. The vehicle stopped and I leaped off to see if there was a beach at the base of the cut-stone promenade. Using a nearby flight of stairs, I climbed down to its blond sands (with someone or something else in tow), and had just dipped a toe in (to check the waters) when I awoke.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

03 September 2014

on mighty Baruna

There is a short ritual that I perform; it's become a habit, something of a norm. I have now repeated it for many years through times that were happy and times that saw tears. When reaching a body of vast salt water I stop what I'm doing, say, “Hello, Father,” then walk to the sea just about far enough that one of my toes gets a taste of the stuff. I try to imagine I'm meeting my dad, and calm myself – feeling not happy or sad – then exchange of water by spitting mine out and taking a bit of sea into my mouth. I swallow it, tasting its salinity, then bow to the brutal but beautiful sea, say, “Thank you, Father,” and go strap on my board, then charge boldly in – always headlong, forward. It was not until I arrived in Bali that I understood to just which deity I'd been so long praying and thanking; soon a friend cued me it to majestic Baruna. He rules o'er the land of the aquatic forces, o'er turtles and surfers, seaweed and seahorses; his gaze never falters; he hears everything; will take a lost child under his sea-wing; will strike now with vengeance, now with perfect calm; does hold every seaman tightly in his palm. To thank great Baruna I find is a must, in him I place volumes and volumes of trust, please join in the habit written of right here and let go of torment and worry and fear.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

04 January 2013

mirrors – mirrors everywhere

Look around you. That's right, take a good look around you. Unless you are visually-impaired or you lead a rugged, comfort-less existence out in the woods somewhere, then, while just having looked around, you probably saw a mirrored surface, something in which you saw a reflection of yourself having a look around. We surround ourselves these days with high-gloss, shiny, or mirrored items, with laptops, automobiles, mobile phones, tablet computers, windows, watch-faces, doors, door-handles, hubcaps, handlebars, plates, pots, spoons, and eyeglasses, to name a few. Oh the many mirrors one can gaze longingly into, losing oneself in the strangely hypnotic activity of making eye-contact with oneself. So is its profusion, and such is its commonality, that we can hardly imagine life without the mirror.

Consider, however, that just a few hundred years ago the primary reflective material was a calm surface of water, which only reflects well under optimal conditions and which requires the viewer to suspend himself over it to the point that objects start falling from his pockets and fluids start dripping from his face. Ancient societies understood the dangers of self-observation; their stories include a cautionary tale about a young man named Narcissus who so loved looking at his own reflection that he dove into a pond in an attempt to capture it, whereupon he was promptly ensnared and drowned by pond-nymphs. (I believe that the tale of Narcissus is meant to be taken as a warning of the dangers of getting caught in the tractor-beam of one's own reflection.) It wasn't until the Industrial Revolution that many people could afford mirrors or, for that matter, glass; before the 18th century, the few persons who could afford mirrors were fantastically rich individuals who were often so corrupt and so cruel that we wishe they'd have stared at their own reflections more often instead of eradicating villages and enslaving and torturing their own subjects. (The myth about seven years of bad luck resulting from a broken mirror probably dates to before the Industrial Revolution, when portable reflective objects were prohibitively expensive.)

Are we, today, better off for having mirrors everywhere, or can mirrors be blamed in part for our current theory of rational-selfishness (i.e. avarice), that wasteful, ego-centric, quasi-capitalistic economic system that drains our lives of its intrinsic value and imprisons our hearts in shells of self-serving egotism, rendering us incapable of respecting ourselves, each other, and Nature? I find it logical to assume that staring constantly at our own reflections reinforces the notion that we must first look out for ourselves, for Numero Uno, before sacrificing our time or money for the good of other people. Since beginning to ponder these questions, I have looked at my reflection only when necessary, such as when shaving my face or checking for ticks, avoiding even a sidelong glance into a mirror; when I do stop to look, I am often shocked to see the face I have come to associate with myself staring back at me, an image which correspond but poorly to the ebullient spirit burning deeply within my loins. The crux of the matter is this: mirrors disassociate the self from its tender humanity, from its intrinsic goodness; the act fuels and facilitates the ego's ability to hijack the soul, which results in greedy, self-righteous, and short-sighted behavior such as conspicuous consumption and self-banishment into wage-slavery. Therefore, dear friend, please avoid a mirror today, and rescue your soul from the ego's sticky clutches. Mahalo.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit