"A Model Wife and Mother"

I love this statue.

I'm sure you all know who this is. If not, let me give you a clue ... one of the reasons why I love this statue is because of her name. When I was in India, a number of people said to me "oh, Victoria, you have a very important name". And yes, I guess it is. After all, she was the first and only Empress of India.

The most amazing thing about this statue to me is the inscription:

VICTORIA
QUEEN AND EMPRESS
A MODEL WIFE AND MOTHER

It was dedicated to the Queen by the women of Hamilton in the early part of the century.

Queen and Empress --- yes.

But ... a model wife and mother ????

I guess it depends which model you're looking at. Model wife she was. She loved Prince Albert. In every sense of the word. Prince Albert, despite being regarded as her social inferior, was her closest advisor. When he died, she went into mourning and wore black for the rest of her life. By all reports, she was a woman deeply in love and a woman who deeply loved.

As far as the Model Mother part ... by all reports, that's stretching it quite a bit. She was the mother of nine children, but allegedly thought the act of childbirth and all things associated with it to be deeply disgusting. And she once referred to babies as being ungainly as little frogs. Deeply maternal she was not. Allegedly, anyway.

All that aside, what I find ironic about this statue is the juxtaposition of those words, Empress, Queen, Wife, Mother. It makes me wonder what statement was being made about ideal womanhood. Was it not enough to be Queen and Empress?

Or maybe it was an attempt to humanize her and minimize the distance between her and her loyal subjects in Hamilton?

Well, without reading too deeply into it, the statue just plain makes me smile. Partly because of the absurdity of it, partly because it's so damn dramatic ... I wouldn't describe her face as severe, but she is not a woman to be trifled with. "Mom" is not the word which comes to mind when gazing upward at this woman with sceptre in hand and a lion guarding her feet.

I like it because it's a great piece of art, a great piece of history. With a really great name.

In the Middle of Nowhere

Sometimes I google a phrase and see what comes up. Today I googled the phrase "staying with pain" .. tough day today. And I landed upon a page called Electronic Iraq and I found these words by the late Tom Fox, one of the men from the Christian Peacekeeping Team who was imprisoned along with Jim Loney and Harmeet Singh .. they were freed but Tom Fox didn't make it out.

There are a lot of brave words here, and also words which express the difficulties of peacemaking work. Amazing words from an amazing man ...

"The ability to feel the pain of another human being is central to any kind of peacemaking work. But this compassion is fraught with peril. A person can experience a feeling of being overwhelmed. Or a feeling of rage and desire for revenge. Or a desire to move away from the pain. Or a sense of numbness that can deaden the ability to feel anything at all.

"How do I stay with the pain and suffering and not be overwhelmed? How do I resist the welling up of rage towards the perpetrators of violence? How do I keep from disconnecting from or becoming numb to the pain?

"After eight months with CPT, I am no clearer than I when I began. In fact I have to struggle harder and harder each day against my desire to move away or become numb. Simply staying with the pain of others doesn't seem to create any healing or transformation. Yet there seems to be no other first step into the realm of compassion than to not step away."

Here, Fox quotes Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron, from her book The Places that Scare You: "Becoming intimate with the queasy feeling of being in the middle of nowhere makes our hearts more tender. When we are brave enough to stay in the nowhere place then compassion arises spontaneously."

Fox adds: "Being in the middle of nowhere really does create a very queasy feeling and yet so many spiritual teachers say it is the only authentic place to be. Not staking out any ground for myself creates the possibility of standing with anyone. The middle of nowhere is the one place where compassion can be discovered. The constant challenge is recognizing that my true country of origin is the middle of nowhere."

Hope that helps when you're wonder if you're standing in the middle of nowhere. Helps me. my struggle is small compared to his was, yet his words resonate ... which means his words still live and have power.

Berlin, are you there .. Prague .. come in ...

I spent the afternoon today in a radio studio celebrating Art's Birthday. Art who? ART. With a capital A. As in AHHT ... dahling.

My job was to search the internet and pull audio clips from all the Art's Birthday celebrations from around the world. Which would mean mostly Canada and Europe. Japan had a live netcast too, but their day was all finished by the time we got to the station. That international date line thing, you know.

I did a lot of listening today and a lot of surfing too. The best thing about it was that this was the first time I've used internet broadcasts as a programming tool. And I learned a lot.

First of all, you have to get up early in the morning to grab your material because by the time the afternoon rolls around, the net gets very congested and slow. And some streams don't even appear at all ... we techologically based artists are pretty good at this stuff but we're not infallible. I never could get Prague to come in.

And speaking of Prague, I sure wish those Czechs would put the little loudspeaker symbol on their web page so I don't have to figure out what the word "Listen" is in Czech. Some of these web masters make it awfully hard to figure things out. Respect the conventions of UWL, (Universal Web Language), folks.

I also realized that you don't ever plan a whole afternoon on live netcasts. Or, if you do, you always have a good backup plan in case Prague doesn't show up for your party either.

The other things I learned were about Art himself (who decided that Art was a guy, anyway?) After listening to a whole bunch of artists paying homage to their master, I have come up with the conclusion that Art is a pretty cool guy. Damn cold, as a matter of fact (actually, it's a matter of perception, not fact).

Art is a real machine these days. All those computer generated sounds. Beeps, squawks, machine sounds. So I have to ask, where is the humanity in all the beep squawking that is going in galleries these days? Where are the human voices? Where are the real world sounds? Where is the stuff that stirs the soul?

I enjoyed the workout that the left side of my brain got today, though. I'll visit my right brain again tomorrow and be glad that for me, Art's a whole lot softer than all that.

If you want to listen to some Art's Birthday celebrations yourself, click here.

P.S. the guy with the cake above is Pierre Filliou, the guy who decided over a hundred years ago that Art's Birthday should be celebrated. He was French. You probably figured that out ....

So Long, Catfish John

I just got the very sad news that Catfish John, co-host of the Sunnyside Up Gospel Hour at WMMT is no longer with us.

The news was emailed to me via L'il Willard of the Bluegrass Express Show, also from WMMT. I met Catfish Jean and Catfish John when Barry and I were living down in Kentucky. Barry was managing the radio station, I was taking a break from working and learning about the things I missed while I was working.

WMMT had a rule ... you could sing about God, but no preachin' and no prayin'. The Catfishes walked that line really closely. Devout Christians themselves, but they appreciated the station and its rules. And in all of the time I've talked to them, not once did they say anything that expressed anything other than love and respect for other people. Truly a model that other Christians would do well to follow.

One especially memorable day, we went to the home of two WMMT folks who could no longer do a show. Mallie and Levie Gross were their names. So they did their weekly radio program of gospel tunes with a guitar, a voice and a really tinny Sears tape recorder and microphone that no broadcast professional would ever let near a radio station. They did their show anyway and it was broadcast, every week. And what it lacked in depth of sound, they made up for in depth of spirit. We went up to Levi and Mallie's house, along with Catfish Jean and Catfish John, who played in the ensemble on his slide dobro. He was a hell of a (whoops ... I meant "heck of a") good musician.

I'm glad I still have the recording that I made of that day, and I will listen to it and think of Catfish John. I am sure Catfish Jean's heart is really breakin' right now. But her faith is so strong that I don't believe she doubts for a minute that there is a heaven, and that Catfish John will be waiting for her when she gets there.

Reminds me of a song I learned when I was in Appalachia:

"I'll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan
I'll be waiting drawing pictures in the sand
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout
And I'll come running through the shallow waters reaching for your hand".

Alive and Well in Cabbagetown

I know. I've been neglecting my blog. So have you .. not a comment from anybody in over a month. (bitch, bitch, bitch) Guess I have to go to Antarctica to get your attention.

I am nicely settling for five weeks at a generous friend's home in Cabbagetown. I am housesitting while she is away. For those of you not familiar with Toronto, Centre of the Universe, Cabbagetown is in the centre of Toronto, not far from Yonge Street, the longest street in the world (Toronto claims that Yonge Street goes all the way up to Timmins or something like that. Which is stretching it, but Toronto and Texas have a lot in common because both places are really invested in the suffix "est" .. as in biggest, longest, smartest (okay, so Texas doesn't usually claim that one).

I like Toronto. And I don't like Toronto. Just like all the other Canadians, I have an ambivalent relationship with Hogtown (Hogtown is the alternate name for the city. Cabbagetown is a neighbourhood within Hogtown). Named because it used to be the hog slaughtering capital of Ontario. And because the people in my neighbourhood were so poor they had to eat cabbages.

I like the neighbourhood. It's a place where gentrification started to take hold about 20 years ago and then slowed down. Can't say it stopped entirely, but it's a mixed neighbourhood which has both very affluent people and also the Regent Park Community Housing Neighbourhood (aka The Projects). It's a neighbourhood where the day old vegetables don't stay on the clear out rack for long in the No Frills Grocery store, which is three doors down from the shop with the high end expensive cheeses.

Much to my surprise, this area has also become a big area in Toronto for Tamil settlement. When I was in Sri Lanka, I heard a lot about the conflict and life in Sri Lanka from the Sinhalese point of view. But I never heard much from Tamils. Likely because I was mostly in Colombo, which is a different part of the country than the area where Tamils live. I went for a walk and discovered a Sri Lankan restaurant which I must check out. And an Indian/Sri Lankan grocery store with a friendly man named Mahindra behind the counter. I told him I'd like to come back and talk to him about what life is like for Tamils in his home country.

I haven't lived in Toronto since 1990, so this is a really great opportunity to take advantage of what the city has to offer. Which is a lot. Come mid-February, I will be back to my old haunts in Hamilton where gentrification is moving even more slowly than here.

Looking forward to it. And in the meantime, really enjoying being here too. There is so much to explore no matter where you are. There is no excuse to be bored in this amazing place called Earth .. no matter which part of it you find yourself in.

Write to me! All this solitude can be too much of a good thing.