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  Passages Daily  Frederic Chopin



"A strange adventure befell me while I was playing my Sonata in B flat minor before some English friends. I had played the Allegro and the Scherzo more or less correctly. I was about to attack the March when suddenly I saw arising from the body of my piano those cursed creatures which had appeared to me one lugubrious night at the Chartreuse. I had to leave for one instant to pull myself together after which I continued without saying anything."


"I am gay on the outside, especially among my own folk (I count Poles my own); but inside something gnaws at me; some presentiment, anxiety, dreams - or sleeplessness - melancholy, indifference - desire for life, and the next instant, desire for death; some kind of sweet peace, some kind of numbness, absent-mindedness..."


Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art.


"Having nothing to do, I am correcting the Paris edition of Bach; not only the engraver's mistakes, but also the mistakes hallowed by those who are supposed to understand Bach (I have no pretensions to understand better, but I do think that sometimes I can guess)."


Man is never always happy, and very often only a brief period of happiness is granted him in this world; so why escape from this dream which cannot last long?


I wish I could throw off the thoughts which poison my happiness, but I take a kind of pleasure in indulging them.


If the newspapers cut me up so much that I shall not venture before the world again, I have resolved to become a house painter; that would be as easy as anything else, and I should, at any rate, still be an artist!


Oh, how miserable it is to have no one to share your sorrows and joys, and, when your heart is heavy, to have no soul to whom you can pour out your woes.

 

To This Degree


An image a day every day of the year



Today: The Garden of the Tuileries in Paris


Keynote:  The formulation of collective ideals through the application of reason and order to newly discovered aspects of nature


FORMALISM


May 22 2015 Gemini 3

(1° to 15° Gemini is DISCOVERY in Act 1, INDIVIDUATION)

 

Feature  StudioONE

‘The Plains Indians,’ America’s Early Artists, at the Met


Photography by

Marnie Rogers


This show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art includes about 130 pieces of some of the earliest surviving art by Native Americans. Extracts From A New York Times Review:— Some of the earliest surviving art by native North Americans left America long ago. Soldiers, traders and priests, with magpie eyes for brilliance, bundled it up and shipped it across the sea to Europe. Painted robes, embroidered slippers and feathered headdresses tinkling with chimes found their way into cupboards in 18th-century London and Paris, and lay there half-forgotten. Now, in “The Plains Indians: Artists of Earth and Sky” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, some of those wondrous things have come home.


Of the about 130 pieces in the show, on loan from more than 50 international collections, those sent by the Musée du Quai Branly in Paris are exceptional: a drawing, on animal hide, of a half-abstract bird with prismatic wings; a raven-plume bonnet with feathers swept back as if hit by wind; and a bead-encrusted shoulder bag with a double-crescent design. They are all part of an exhibition that has to be one of the most completely beautiful sights in New York right now: But what would Europeans have thought when they first unpacked these objects in Paris centuries ago?


They might have noticed that the crescent emblems stitched on the beaded bag looked vaguely familiar. But from where? Moorish Spain. And the beads? They were glass, probably Venetian. Even a viewer who found the plumed bonnet outlandish might have admired the skill that had gone into weaving its headband from porcupine quills.  Read This Article

 

Weather

May 22





from NOAA

The National Weather Service


Brattleboro:


A slight chance of showers after 2pm. Mostly sunny, with a high near 65. Light west wind increasing to 9 to 14 mph in the morning. Chance of precipitation is 20%.


Tonight

Widespread frost, mainly after 5am. Otherwise, mostly clear, with a low around 32. West wind 5 to 9 mph becoming light northwest after midnight.




Looking ahead:


Saturday

Areas of frost before 7am. Otherwise, sunny, with a high near 63. West wind 6 to 11 mph.


Saturday Night

Mostly clear, with a low around 42. West wind around 6 mph becoming calm in the evening.


Vermont Views

Magazine


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Quality of Life

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Spirit of Place


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Daily Articles

To This Degree

An image a day for every day of the year.


Passages


Weather

Local & National


Pretty Often

Art & Soul

Notes on Creating


Make a note of it




 

Art & Soul

Notes on Creating by Audrey Flack from her title Art & Soul

The vibrations of Venice


Art is the concretization of the energy, hopes, aspirations of human kind. Every era generates its own energy.

    We all have within us the ability to know everything that has ever happened.
    In Venice, the energy system is so high it is unquestionable. The architecture, painting, sculpture, and mosaics solidify this energy and give it the three-dimensional form of the era in which the works were made: the Piazza San Marco, the Doges’ Palace, the clock tower, Santa maria della Salute, Tintoretto’s Scuola di San Rocco. The thousands of stonecarvers, and builders worked together to form a miraculous superhuman preternatural landscape that emits light vibrations. Love comes pouring forth, and everyone understands it.

    Venice is a city of total fantasy brought up to a concrete, touchable level, and like a star, with finite “light” years of life, its time is fading. Venice is sinking while the waters are rising. The statues are losing particles of their stone to the atmosphere.

    The artists and builders of Venice have done their job. Their gift to the world is completing itself.

 
Column  Old Lady Blog  Toni Ortner
It is morning again



Day Book  10/19/2014 : It is morning. The ceiling that was mottled at midnight is pale yellow and has dirty spots. The dishwasher is emptied; the coffee is perking. The plants are taken down from the ceiling hooks and placed into cold water in the bathtub because this is Sunday and the plants are watered on Sunday. The dirty linens are stripped off the bed and put into the washing machine. The soap is measured into the cup and poured in .The washing machine is turned on and starts to hum. The crumbs from last night are swept off the floor and emptied into trash. The clean dishes are placed back on each shelf.  It is morning again. The leaves on the birch shake hello to a white sky where gray streaks shuttle back and forth. Sunlight blazes then fades the bark of the evergreens. The brown weathered bark so dark it is black against the orange and yellow leaves. A boy bounces a ball on the street. The motor of a truck turns over like a hoarse cough. It is morning again.

The writer takes a second cup of coffee and walks like a somnambulist to her desk because she must.  She has retreated to this cave.  Each day she prints pages and sticks each into a folder with a definitive label although she knows nothing is definitive and it all breaks into pieces.  Last night when she could not sleep, she held up her hands in the dark and saw patches of mottled white and gray moving like pieces of a kaleidoscope. She watched her hands rise in the air like a prayer fingers splayed out in a claw. These hands she has taken for granted without which she could not type these words, these fingers growing unsightly knobs with the forefingers of each hand turned towards the middle fingers. These fingers like her mother’s with identical ugly bumps and knobs caused by arthritis.  Read This Column ➤Old_Lady_Blog.htmlOld_Lady_Blog.htmlshapeimage_3_link_0shapeimage_3_link_1


New

Features, Articles and Columns



Column

Vermont Diary

...from forehead to throat.



Feature

Monkey’s Cloak

Odd Lemming Out


Alan Rayner




Column

Chess 


The making of a world record

Part 3 of 3:

“The Response”

Phil Innes




Column

The Great Adventure

What Will Your Daughters See?

Terri Kneipp




Column

Natural Inclusivity

Encyclement: A Natural Inclusional Cosmology of Life and Love

Alan Rayner




Article

Weekly Feature

A Child’s Journey with Dickens, 1868

By Kate Douglas Wiggin Abridged, Edited & © 2013 by Marnie Rogers



Feature

Monkey’s Cloak

YAHRZEIT


Terry Hauptman





Feature

100 Years Ago


1 in 7




Column

Vermont Diary

Visible Bernie & Invisible John Doe in-a-tent




Column

Old Lady Blog

It is morning again

Toni Ortner



Column

Archetypal Hippie Speaks

 

We Created this Identity Crisis

 Jeri Rose




Op Ed

Beyond capitalism and socialism: could a new economic approach save the planet?

 Jo Confino





Column

Post Oil Solutions


May Climate Change Café Presents Climate Justice Workshop

 Tim Stevenson




Column

Open Mind


Why I am supporting Senator Bernie Sanders

Offie Wortham



Column

O Citoyen!


   Brattleboro Citizens’ Breakfast  Report   

Municipal Philanthropy — Presenter:  Chris Chapman

Robert Oeser




Feature

Monkey’s Cloak

Out on a limb


Alan Rayner




Feature

Overheard

Murcan splained

for Forns



Feature

100 Years Ago


888,246 ceramic poppies




Feature

Monkey’s Cloak

GACELA DE LA MUERTE OSCURA

GACELA OF THE DARK DEATH


After Lorca

Terry Hauptman





Column

In Between


FEAR OF CHANGE




Feature

StudioONE


‘The Plains Indians,’ America’s Early Artists, at the Met

Photography by

Marnie Rogers




Column

Old Lady Blog

The angel of writing finally gained her audience with God

Toni Ortner




Column

Articulate

Witness: An Exploration of Art and Journalism.

Kate Anderson, Ed.





Column

Natural Inclusivity

Being Someone Other

Alan Rayner




Guest Article

Sound and Silence

Christian McEwen




Feature

REAL FOOD !


Pure di Patate all’Olio

(Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes)

Phil Innes




Special Feature  “Virtually There” The SW of England Coastal Path

Part 5 

The Lizard




Feature

Selected Letters

Open Letter to Members of the Vermont Legislature

Offie Wortham




Article

Weekly Feature

Policing our

bio-region

In conversation with Kraig LaPorte





Article

If You Lived Here

Strolling of the Heifers 2014 

Locavore Index 

Plus National Localvore Rankings



Feature

REAL FOOD !


Starry Gazey Pie




Article

Curious Topics


Easter Eggs — and the Anglo-Saxon goddess of light




Feature

Monkey’s Cloak


Passover Seder 2015

Nanci Bern




Article

If You Lived Elsewhere

Wind River Mountains —

A Little History




Column

Vermont Diary

What would Mr. Rogers do?

Editorial



Column

Articulate

Causal theories for cultural impact. Instrumental and intrinsic value. Why do we ask.

Kate Anderson




Column

Energetics

Energy News around the World March 2015

George Harvey




Feature

Reviews, Old & New


‘Norwegian Wood’, Haruki Murakami reviewed by Alan Rayner





Feature

Monkey’s Cloak


Eclipse on Solsbury Hill

Alan Rayner





Feature

Overheard


Hurricane is a native American word, Typhoon is Greek


Column

Open Mind


Increase Taxes on Liquor and Tobacco

Offie Wortham





Article

If You Lived Elsewhere

Invisible You. The Human Microbiome exhibition opens at Eden this spring



Feature

100 Years Ago

January and February 1915

The Year Thus Far



Column

A Unique Research Library In Brattleboro

Kit Barry



Column

In Between

LIFE LOOKING BACK AT US

Julia Ferrari




Article

Monthly Feature

Got Lagoon?


Which Store Was Where on Main Street When

Martha M Moravec

Feb 11, 2014




Feature

Curious Topics

The Mystery of Indian Queens


Column

Nurturing Nature

30 billion water bottles can all be wrong

Tasneem Tawfeek



Curious Topics

The Pirate

Queen of Ireland



 

Column  Chess  Phil Innes

The making of a world record

— Part 3 of 3: “The Response”



Extracts from Susan Polgar’s reply to Andrew Martin:


For your information, no one (especially me) had any intention of breaking any other record beside the 321 games by IM Andrew Martin. That was hard enough in itself. I will explain how the rest happened later in this letter. In addition, just to ensure that the record can be broken, I hit the gym almost daily for a year to prepare physically.


During the simul, the official designated record certifiers were walking alongside with me the entire time to record all detailed information. They never left my side with the exception of a few rest room breaks. These dedicated officials probably ended up walking more than I did. As I was walking, I was wearing a pedometer to record the walking distance and steps taken. Hundreds of pictures were taken before, during and at the conclusion of the event.


Even with all the preparation and hard work, we were on pins and needles on the morning of the simul. I personally arrived at 7 a.m. to mentally prepare. The simul was supposed to be at 10 a.m.. At 9:30 a.m., we only had about 250 players checked in. At 9:45 a.m., we had about 275 checked in. At 10 a.m., we had only about 305 people checked in. The simul was now officially late. We only managed to check in about 315 people at 10:15 a.m.. That is why we had to delay the event until approximately 10:30-10:35 a.m. to get 326 players and the simul officially began with Mr. Eric Jablin, former Mayor and current Vice-Mayor of Palm Beach Gardens. Multiple TV stations were on hand along with a number of print reporters.


There is one fact I would like to clarify. Each game did not take a minute to complete by both sides but only by me. While I was walking, my opponents had plenty of time to think. We did not allow any pass. Therefore, a move must be made as I arrive at the board. Then I responded basically instantly. My moves against the weaker players did not take more than a second or two at most. If each game averages 30 moves or even less, it would take about a minute or less to complete. After all, I gave more than 1,000 exhibition simul games in the last year or two throughout the United States and North America. Therefore, I had a lot of practice in advance.


I hope that Andrew will attempt to break this record as soon as possible. Then I will attempt again to break his new record. Perhaps we can start a new tradition for the benefit of chess. I think this will be beneficial to both countries and chess in general. Read This Column

 

Feature  Monkey’s Cloak

Odd Lemming Out

Alan Rayner




I had a dream

To leave the mainstream

And pawsed to rest

Upon this hill crest

Where I gained a view

That I thought no body knew


I tried to tell

That they were heading for Hell

But, they said, ‘what cheek

To pronounce from your peak’


Those who came nearest

Said I was the queerest

Unfeeling sub-lemming

Not allowed

To depart from the crowd


They said, ‘not to be dim’

To ‘be in with the swim’

But when I refused

They were not amused


They tied me down

And pierced my hide

And left me to die

As they rushed for the sky



Read This and other reader’s poems

 

Feature  100 Years Ago 1915

1 in 7




One in seven British men were killed in the war of 100 years ago, and to allow us a comparison to assess the scale of this apocalyptic scenario here are the grim statistics followed by those for significant American wars.


World War I

British casualties were 800,000 killed, 2,000,000 wounded

France casualties were 1,300,000 killed, 4,250,000 wounded

Russian casualties were 1,700,000 killed, 4,900,o00 wounded

Italian casualties were 650,000 killed, 950,000 wounded

United States were 116,000 killed, 204,000 wounded

German casualties were 1,700 million killed, 4,216,000 wounded

Austria-Hungary were 1,200,000 killed, 3,600,000 wounded





As comparison, here are American records for all wars:

Revolutionary war, 4,435

War of 1812 2,286 killed

Mexican war 1,733 killed

Civil war, 140,000 killed

Spanish American War 312 killed

World War I battle deaths 53,000

World War II battle deaths 292,000

Korean war 33,000 killed

Vietnam war 47,000 killed

Persian Gulf war 148 killed.


Or about 500,000 deaths in battle. These American statistics do not include veteran suicides.



Read More From 100 Years Ago

 

Column  Archetypal Hippie Speaks  Jeri Rose

 We Created this Identity Crisis


Phone call from a friend, disturbed because he feels he is not himself, not a loving person as he has been all his life. His phone call to me early in the morning came out of a sleepless night. His complaint was that he was losing himself, that he did not like himself becoming an unloving person. He felt he had to keep people at arm’s length in a way he never had done before. He found himself saying No to requests for help from people and that was not his normal way to be. He felt he was losing himself as he saw himself. This was a fifty year old man in an identity crisis.


The emotional turmoil that he expressed came out of him as though it were something that had taken hold of him without any ground or reason. He presented his feelings as though they were some change working in him from an external force. If he had swallowed a worm that was eating away at his guts and soul, that would have been a measure of his experience of what he was feeling. However, he was not a victim of such an external invasion; instead, I was aware of his recent history and that knowledge allowed me to find a real cause for his discomfort.


He has been attacked by circumstance in the form of the judicial system that forced him to take a plea. How could he be forced? He has a wife whom his pension protects and houses. The court would have put him away for several years and the pension would have been lost and she would have become houseless. What made the whole situation particularly egregious was the fact that he had in no way been guilty of what he was accused. Read more of this column

 

Column The Great Adventure  Terri Kneipp

What Will Your Daughters See?


Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. Rapunzel. These were the females from my childhood. Beautiful creatures waiting on their prince to rescue them, riding off into a bright, safe future free of the past, living on love and the minor conveniences that came with marrying the prince. Always the victims of some despicable, bitter stepmother or single woman. Did I expect to be rescued and run off to live in a land far away? No. Did I grow up thinking I didn’t have to work hard, be responsible and be prepared to fight my own battles? NO, certainly not! But…in reality, I wanted to get married, have children, be a caretaker, that’s just who I am.  Growing up I didn’t hear stories about strong, courageous women extremely often. Instead, I saw them.


The women in my world were many, varied, some spectacular examples of women ahead of their time, others from another place and time: but, all taught me lessons that have served me well. One of my grandmothers worked because she enjoyed her job and the camaraderie of the workplace refusing to quit when my grandfather retired, not wanting to stay home but choosing the path that was fulfilling to her, a sassafras to the end. The other never worked a day of her life out of the home, didn’t know how to drive and was content with the simpler ways of life… but, my, oh my, could she bake and comfort. Mile high lemon meringue pies were nothing to her: crusts so flakey they melted in your mouth…pure skill that I did not inherit, but skipped a generation and re-emerged in my daughters---yes! She also taught me to cherish the old hymns as we sat on her giant bed, sang The Old Rugged Cross, Standing on the Promises and What a Friend We Have in Jesus and felt the love and comfort they provided. There were other women: the women at my church who laughed and loved boldly, teachers who took an interest and encouraged a shy, but eager student, friends who shared their secrets and trusted they would be kept, and bosses who challenged me to learn and grow. What do our daughters see? Read This Column
 

Article  Weekly Feature

A Child’s Journey with Dickens, 1868


By Kate Douglas Wiggin Abridged, Edited & © 2013 by Marnie Rogers


I knew him at once! — the smiling, genial, mobile face, rather highly colored, the brilliant eyes, the watch chain, the red carnation in the button hole, and the expressive hands, much given to gesture. It was only a momentary view, for the train started, and Dickens vanished, to resume his place in the car next to ours, where he had been, had I known it, ever since we left Portland.


When my mother was again occupied with her book, I slipped away and entered the next car. I took a humble, unoccupied seat near the end, close by the tank of drinking-water, and the train-boy’s basket of popcorn balls and molasses candy, and gazed steadily at the famous man, who was chatting busily with Mr. Osgood. I remembered gratefully that my mother had taken the old ribbons off my gray velvet hat and tied me down with blue under the chin, and I thought, if Dickens should happen to rest his eye upon me, that he could hardly fail to be pleased with the effect of the blue ribbon that went under my collar and held a very small squirrel muff in place. Unfortunately, however, his eye never did meet mine.


Half an hour passed, and one gentleman after another came from here or there to exchange a word of greeting with the famous novelist, so that he was never for a moment alone, thereby inciting in my breast my first, and about my last, experience of the passion of jealousy. Suddenly, however, Mr. Osgood arose, and with an apology went into the smoking car. I never knew how it happened, but invisible ropes pulled me out of me seat, and, speeding up the aisle, I planted myself timorously down, an unbidden guest, in the seat of honor. I had a moment to recover my equanimity, for Dickens was looking out of the window, but he turned in a moment, and said with justifiable surprise:--“God bless my soul, where did you come from?”


“I came from Hollis, Maine,” I stammered, “ and I’m going to Charlestown to visit my uncle. My mother and her cousin went to your reading last night, but, of course, three couldn’t go from the same family, so I stayed at home. Nora, that’s my little sister, stayed at home too. She’s too small to go on a journey, but she wanted to go to the reading dreadfully. There was a lady there last night who had never heard of Betsy Trotwood and had only read two of your books!”


“Well, upon my word!” he said; “you do not mean to say that you have read them!”


“Of course I have,” I replied; “every one of them but the two that we are going to buy in Boston, and some of them six times.”


“Bless my soul! Those long thick books, and you such a slip of a thing,”


“Of course,” I explained conscientiously, “I do skip some of the very dull parts once in a while; not the short dull parts, but the long ones.”


He laughed heartily. “Now, that is something that I hear very little about,” he said. “I distinctly want to learn more about those very dull parts.” And whether to amuse himself, or to amuse me, I do not know, he took out a notebook and pencil from his pocket and proceeded to give me an exhaustive examination on this subject; the books in which the dull parts predominated; and the characters and subjects which principally produced them.  Read More of this Article

 
Column  Vermont Diary 
...from forehead to throat.

A few mornings ago I was in a store and a guy came in wearing a marine corps hat carrying a child of about 2 years old with about 30 stitches in his face, from forehead to throat. 

I won’t mention the kind of dog who did this, except to say it was known to the child, and that 2,000,000 of this breed are ‘put down’ per year, excluding puppies, which would make about 10,000,000.

Of course people always say, ‘it’s not the dog, it’s the owner,’ as if that justified continuous breeding. In New York City, dog shelters don’t take this kind of dog any more since [a] they have a depressing effect on other dogs in the shelter so no one wants the other dogs, and [b] why would you want one of this breed when you don’t know what it has been through? Read This Column  ➤

Column  Articulate  Kate Anderson
Witness: An Exploration of Art and Journalism.

On Friday and Saturday May 8-9 at 8:00 PM in the Hooker-Dunham Theater and Gallery, the Brattleboro artist’s collective Vortex 2 will present a benefit event for Vermont Independent Media, the publisher of the Commons, Brattleboro’s non-profit independent community newspaper. Titled "Witness: An Exploration of Art and Journalism," the show will include readings of prose and poetry, video and photographs, and music. Suggested donation is twelve dollars at the door, but any amount will be accepted. Those who attend are encouraged to pay what they can and also to support The Commons by becoming members.  The benefit event is based on the concept that, like journalism, various forms of art are ways of bearing witness to the truth of things. Read This Article ➤

Column  Nurturing Nature  Tasneem Tawfeek
30 billion water bottles can all be wrong
 
I remain hopeful that actions will replace the notion that one person can make no difference. As awareness is raised, especially when it comes to the environment, the actions of every person counts and makes all the difference towards establishing a healthier planet. Brooke Medicine Eagle is quoted as saying, "There is hope if people will begin to awaken that spiritual part of them, that heartfelt knowledge that we are caretakers of this planet.” Read This Article ➤

Column  Kit Barry Ephemera  Kit Barry
A Unique Research Library In Brattleboro
 
In Brattleboro there is a very unusual room dedicated to American life. It contains at the same time - the Past, the Present, and the Future of American endeavors in all aspects of our culture. It is an archive. A research archive. And when all points are considered, there is no other facility like this one in the United States. In this room, there is not to be found what one expects to see in a library - Books. Instead what is found is ephemera. And with that confusing word now said, we will move quickly to the name of the archive, a definition, and a content description. The current essay includes 5 images and captions togehter with 2,200 words of text to guide the researcher. Read This Article ➤

Column  Consolations of History  Martha M Moravec
Which Store Was Where on Main Street When
 
We froze when we first heard the sound. It was like a swarm of bees, but we knew it was the planes. Fascinated, we watched them come in towards the shore in a huge inverted V like a flock of Canadian geese. Why are they coming here? Can’t they see it is the wrong target? I yelled. They must be idiots. Don’t they have maps? There are no military installations here. As they came closer in that huge impersonal V, we scurried to take shelter. Nothing like this had ever happened before.  Suddenly there was too much glass, too many windows and not enough walls. The carved wooden lattice framework over the bed had holes.  Read This Article ➤

Column  O Citoyen!  Robert Oeser
   Brattleboro Citizens’ Breakfast  Report  — April 17,  2015 

Municipal Philanthropy — Presenter:  Chris Chapman  Chris@tcvermont.com

A writer friend had advised Chris not to lead with the negative, so he began his talk saying that there is “reason to hope” because there is untapped opportunity to break the pattern of “scarcity” of municipal resources in Brattleboro, the state, and the region. Currently, we cannot afford all that we need by raising taxes. We have been taxed about as much as we can be. Yet we still need money for the basics – infrastructure, including roads, bridges, sidewalks, library hours and maintenance equipment, plus public safety. The Green St retaining wall and Elliot St bridge repair are just two visible examples, and the much larger Police / Fire project is a more prominent one.
 Read This Article ➤

Column  Old Lady Blog  Toni Ortner
It is morning again

Day Book  10/19/2014 : It is morning. The ceiling that was mottled at midnight is pale yellow and has dirty spots. The dishwasher is emptied; the coffee is perking. The plants are taken down from the ceiling hooks and placed into cold water in the bathtub because this is Sunday and the plants are watered on Sunday. The dirty linens are stripped off the bed and put into the washing machine. The soap is measured into the cup and poured in .The washing machine is turned on and starts to hum. The crumbs from last night are swept off the floor and emptied into trash. The clean dishes are placed back on each shelf.  It is morning again. The leaves on the birch shake hello to a white sky where gray streaks shuttle back and forth. Sunlight blazes then fades the bark of the evergreens. The brown weathered bark so dark it is black against the orange and yellow leaves. A boy bounces a ball on the street. The motor of a truck turns over like a hoarse cough. It is morning again. Read This Article ➤

Column  Post Oil Solutions  Tim Stevenson
May Climate Change Café Presents Climate Justice Workshop
    
The May Climate Change Café will present a special 3-hour climate justice workshop by members of Rising Tide Vermont on Tuesday, May 26 Brooks Memorial Library, Main Street, Brattleboro. NOTE: This workshop will begin at a special start  time. 5:00 PM.
As always, the event is free and all are welcome. Local, organic and vegan food offerings will be available. Registration appreciated so we can plan for the amount of food (802.869.2141, info@postoilsolutions.org) Read This Article ➤

Column  The Great Adventure  Terri Kneipp
What Will Your Daughters See?

Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. Rapunzel. These were the females from my childhood. Beautiful creatures waiting on their prince to rescue them, riding off into a bright, safe future free of the past, living on love and the minor conveniences that came with marrying the prince. Always the victims of some despicable, bitter stepmother or single woman. Did I expect to be rescued and run off to live in a land far away? No. Did I grow up thinking I didn’t have to work hard, be responsible and be prepared to fight my own battles? NO, certainly not! But…in reality, I wanted to get married, have children, be a caretaker, that’s just who I am.  Growing up I didn’t hear stories about strong, courageous women extremely often. Instead, I saw them. Read This Column ➤

Column  Open Mind  Offie Wortham
Why I am supporting Senator Bernie Sanders

	I do not know Senator Sanders, or Bernie as he likes to be called, and I’m sure he does not know me. But after a great deal of soul-searching, I realized that my views on national and international issues are identical to his. Doesn’t it make sense to vote for a person who represents much of what you have been fighting for all of your adult life? Isn’t the purpose of our form of government to elect people who represent our interests and concerns? Is there another candidate in the Presidential race that really fights for the working or affluent poor? Who else in the race represents the interests of people like me, a member of the struggling middle class? Who will do something about our poor schools, the lack of jobs, the shortage of decent housing, safer neighborhoods, and the economic survival of our country? Read This Article ➤

Column  In Between  Julia Ferrari
FEAR OF CHANGE
 
Recently I went down to Boston to pick up the finished exhibit: “The Whole Art of Language: Julia Ferrari and Dan Carr’s Presses at Golgonooza,” which was up for a time at the Massachusetts College of Art & Design. Everything was packed and waiting for me. In fact, everything could have come back to me months ago, as one friend had offered to take it back for me. I however, wanted the experience of it coming full circle, with my returning to take it home, no matter how long I was delayed because of the harsh cold winter. So as the snows melted and a Boston visit became more favorable, a nearby friend who wanted a chance to visit the city too, offered to drive and we journeyed down together. Just before leaving, a Raven called out and I looked up to see it fly low over the peak of my roof-top, as if alerting me to the potential of the day ahead. Read This Article ➤

Column  Untitled Work  Mac Gander
No, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Lol

Someone recently asked me this question: What does it feel like to be a poet? I found the question interesting, in a savage sort of way, and I wrote what follows in response, and then I wrote the poem that appears at the end of the essay. The great novelist David Foster Wallace, who killed himself unexpectedly a few years ago, has this commencement speech that has been anthologized. In it, he starts with this story: two young fish are swimming along, and they pass by an older fish, who says "how's the water?" The younger fish are slightly puzzled, but then one of them says, "It's fine." They pass on, and then after a couple of minutes one of the younger fish turns to the other and says, "What's water?" I feel a bit like that, answering this question, since writing poetry is so deeply embedded in my sense of self that it is very hard to untangle it—when I read this question, it almost seems like you have asked me to answer "who are you?" Read This Article ➤

Column  Energetics  George Harvey
Around the World March 2015
 
¶ According to a study by the Fraunhofer Institute for Solar Energy Systems, the cost of producing power in central and southern Europe will have declined to between 4 and 6 cents per kWh by 2025, and to as low as 2 to 4 cents by 2050.” The study was commissioned by the think tank Agora Energiewende. [CleanTechnica]
¶ The UK low carbon economy was worth £122 billion in 2013 and has been growing at 7% per year, according to government figures. A low carbon investment report from the Department of Energy and Climate Change says the sector supports over 460,000 jobs, or about 1.5% of all UK jobs. [Business Green]
 Read This Article ➤

Column  Natural Inclusivity  Alan Rayner
Encyclement: A Natural Inclusional Cosmology of Life and Love

Throughout our history, we human beings have sought knowledge not only of our own past and future but also that of the natural world and cosmos we inhabit. What kind of compulsion is it that induces us to make this quest, while other life forms appear to sustain themselves through renewable cycles of living, birthing and dying simply by doing what comes naturally to them? Whatever it is, it seems to be underlain by a feeling that without such knowledge, we feel lost and out of control in an unfathomable and complex labyrinth within which our lives have become inescapably entrapped, with the only way out and back in being through an entrance/exit marked ‘Birth/Death’. This feeling of uncertainty may make us scared silly of some kind of soul-devouring Minotaur that awaits us deep within the labyrinth or a judgmental figure at its entrance/exit who may or may not let us pass. ‘Knowledge is Power’, we may then tell our selves, and with it we can determine our destiny through our own free will, rather than have it decided by some ‘external judge’ or ‘pit-dwelling devourer’ beyond our influence: we can gain dominion over Nature by discovering its hidden rules and turning them to our advantage by knowing the difference between ‘good’ and ‘evil’, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.  Read This Article ➤

Column  Archetypal Hippie Speaks  Jeri Rose
 We Created this Identity Crisis

Phone call from a friend, disturbed because he feels he is not himself, not a loving person as he has been all his life. His phone call to me early in the morning came out of a sleepless night. His complaint was that he was losing himself, that he did not like himself becoming an unloving person. He felt he had to keep people at arm’s length in a way he never had done before. He found himself saying No to requests for help from people and that was not his normal way to be. He felt he was losing himself as he saw himself. This was a fifty year old man in an identity crisis. Read This Article ➤

Column  Chess  Phil Innes
 The making of a world record — Part 1

On August 1st former women's world champion Susan Polgar played against 326 players, breaking the previous world record held by IM Andrew Martin, and a number of others in the process. We received a letter from Martin asking for details. Susan Polgar replied, describing the world record attempts in fascinating detail. 

During her record-breaking event Susan Polgar walked a total of 9.1 miles though a Florida mall, in high-tech sneakers, drinking orange juice. She faced 326 opponents simultaneously, scoring an unprecedented 99.03%. After breaking the Guinness Book's simul record Susan Polgar went on to attack a few more. Here are the records she broke:... Read This Column ➤

 Guest Article  Christian McEwen
Sound and Silence

In The Spell of the Sensuous, the writer David Abram describes two friends meeting again after a long time. If we should chance to overhear them, he says, we might well notice “a tonal, melodic layer of communication” beneath the explicit meaning of the words, “a rippling rise and fall of the voices in a sort of musical duet, rather like two birds singing to each other.”

	Each voice mimics a portion of the other’s melody, at the same time adding its own inflection, which is then echoed by the original speaker, “the two singing bodies  tuning and attuning to one another, rediscovering a common register, remembering each other.” This tuning and retuning, this remembering, is what is called “entrainment.” Read This Article ➤

Op Ed  Jo Confino
Beyond capitalism and socialism: could a new economic approach save the planet?
 
A holistic approach to the economy is necessary to avoid social, environmental and economic collapse, according to a new report by the Capital Institute. To avoid social, environmental and economic collapse, the world needs to move beyond the standard choices of capitalism or socialism. That’s the conclusion of a new report released Wednesday by US think tank Capital Institute.

The non-partisan think tank argues that both systems are unsustainable, even if flawlessly executed, and that economists need to look to the “hard science of holism” to debunk outdated views held by both the left and the right.

Jan Smuts, who coined the term “holism” in his 1926 book, Holism and Evolution, defined it as the “tendency in nature to form wholes that are greater than the sum of the parts”. For example, in the case of a plant, the whole organism is more than a collection of leaves, stems and roots. Focusing too closely on each of these parts, the theory argues, could get in the way of understanding the organism as a whole.
 Read This Article ➤

Article  Curious Topics 
50th Python Reunion
 
To celebrate the achievements of the Monty Python crew, UKTV channel Gold—which will air the final performance of the reunion on Sunday—contracted with sculptor Iain Prendergast to create a 50-foot fiberglass version of the famous "Norwegian Blue" parrot. The parrot, which is famous for being dead from the moment it was sold, was placed on Monday at Potters Fields Park in South London, near Tower Bridge. This is both a fine reminder to tune in on Sunday to the broadcast and an outstanding opportunity to inspire countless visitors to declare in increasingly frantic tones that "This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! This is a late parrot! It’s a stiff!" Because if there’s anything that you need to commission a 50-foot fiberglass sculpture to get people who know every word to famous Monty Python sketches to do, it’s to recite the funnier bits of those sketches to anyone within earshot. Read This Article ➤

Article  If You Lived Here 
Strolling of the Heifers sets theme, seeks parade units, volunteers
 
Strolling of the Heifers has announced its 2015 theme: “Love Your Farmer.”
 The annual Strolling of the Heifers Parade takes place on Saturday, June 6 at 10 a.m. It is the centerpiece of a weekend full of events including a Friday, June 5 evening street festival, the 11-acre Slow Living Expo on parade day, and on Sunday, June 7, the Tour de Heifer dirt-road cycling rides, a Farmers Breakfast at The Marina, and a Farm Tour. The mission of Strolling of the Heifers is "connecting people with healthy local food, encouraging and facilitating innovation and entrepreneurship in the farm/food sector, and supporting the development of stronger local food systems and healthy, sharing, connected and resilient communities." Read This Article ➤

Article  If You Lived Elsewhere 
Wind River Mountains — A Little History
There is still a wild west, almost as wild as represented in a novel “Into The Savage Country”, by Shannon Burke — which has adventures in the Wind River Mountains between Americans and British, and Sioux, Blackfoot and Crow, set in the 1820s. Americans and British were in fact vying for the upper West Coast of America and as far inland as they could establish themselves. I won’t spoil the novel by telling you who won, but it is exceptionally well written — and by that I don’t mean correctly boring — but incorporating all sorts of detail from frontier life of the time. I liked the description of this place so much I wanted to see what it looked like and found the accompanying pictures and a little history. Read This Article ➤

Article  Weekly Feature 
A Child’s Journey with Dickens, 1868
 
By Kate Douglas Wiggin Abridged, Edited & © 2013 by Marnie Rogers

I knew him at once! — the smiling, genial, mobile face, rather highly colored, the brilliant eyes, the watch chain, the red carnation in the button hole, and the expressive hands, much given to gesture. It was only a momentary view, for the train started, and Dickens vanished, to resume his place in the car next to ours, where he had been, had I known it, ever since we left Portland.

When my mother was again occupied with her book, I slipped away and entered the next car. I took a humble, unoccupied seat near the end, close by the tank of drinking-water, and the train-boy’s basket of popcorn balls and molasses candy, and gazed steadily at the famous man, who was chatting busily with Mr. Osgood. I remembered gratefully that my mother had taken the old ribbons off my gray velvet hat and tied me down with blue under the chin, and I thought, if Dickens should happen to rest his eye upon me, that he could hardly fail to be pleased with the effect of the blue ribbon that went under my collar and held a very small squirrel muff in place. Unfortunately, however, his eye never did meet mine.  Read This Article ➤

Article  Monthly Feature 
Got Lagoon?
 
[Caption: a 5-mile lagoon wall extending 1.5 miles from the shore.] The UK wants to lead the world in this new sustainable technology, which has big up-front costs, but inexpensive energy ever after. Plans to generate electricity from the world's first series of tidal lagoons have been unveiled in the UK. The six lagoons, four in Wales and one each in Somerset and Cumbria, will capture incoming and outgoing tides behind giant sea walls, and use the weight of the water to power turbines. The series of six lagoons could generate 8% of the UK's electricity for an investment of £30bn. Read This Article ➤

Feature  Selected Letters 
Open Letter to Members of the Vermont Legislature
Offie Wortham
	There has been a great deal of confusion and misinformation recently about the success of the CHSVT. Three hundred and seventy-four (374) certificates were earned by the inmates, and 41 received a high school diploma in 2014. The purpose of the larger program, the Career and Technical Education (CTE) Certification program, is to help inmates acquire an education that will help them secure employment upon their release. The 333 individuals who received their Industry Recognized Credentials are more prepared for getting a job than most high school graduates. They have completed courses in: OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration), First Aid/CPR/AED, Solid Works, Master Cam, NCCCER (National Center for Construction Education & Research, ASE (Automotive Service Excellence), SerSafe, ProStart, Manage First, Master Gardener, and American
Read This Article ➤

Feature  Monkey’s Cloak 
Odd Lemming Out
Alan Rayner

I had a dream
To leave the mainstream
And pawsed to rest
Upon this hill crest
Where I gained a view
That I thought no body knew

I tried to tell
That they were heading for Hell
But, they said, ‘what cheek
To pronounce from your peak’

Read This and other reader’s poems ➤

Special Feature  “Virtually There” The South-West of England Coastal Path 
Part 5 — The Lizard
On the way around the Cornish Coast on the National Trust Footpath we have arrived from Mount’s Bay at The Lizard, the most southerly point in England

The Lizard (Cornish: An Lysardh) is a peninsula in southern Cornwall, England, United Kingdom. The most southerly point of the British mainland is near Lizard Point at grid reference SW 701,115. The Lizard village, is the most southerly on the British mainland, and is in the civil parish of Landewednack; the most southerly parish. The valleys of the River Helford and Loe Pool form the northern boundary, with the rest of the peninsula surrounded by sea.The area measures approximately 14 miles (23 km) x 14 miles (23 km). The Lizard is one of England's natural regions and has been designated as national character area 157 by Natural England. The peninsula is known for its geology and for its rare plants and lies within the Cornwall Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB). Almost a third of Cornwall has AONB designation, with the same status and protection as a National Park. Read This Article ➤

Feature  100 Years Ago 1915
1 in 7

One in seven British men were killed in the war of 100 years ago, and to allow us a comparison to assess the scale of this apocalyptic scenario here are the grim statistics followed by significant American wars.

World War I
British casualties were 800,000 killed, 2,000,000 wounded
France casualties were 1,300,000 killed, 4,250,000 wounded
Russian casualties were 1,700,000 killed, 4,900,o00 wounded
Italian casualties were 650,000 killed, 950,000 wounded
United States were 116,000 killed, 204,000 wounded
German casualties were 1,700 million killed, 4,216,000 wounded
Austria-Hungary were 1,200,000 killed, 3,600,000 wounded
Read This Article ➤

Feature  Overheard 
Word Rant
by: A journalist from The Guardian, UK 

unacceptable: Such a feeble, euphemistic little word, but so often trotted out. Little Tommy’s behaviour is “unacceptable”, the kindergarten warns us. What does that mean? Is he behaving like an egocentric monster and, if we don’t do something, will develop into a fully fledged psychopath? Or has he merely pulled Miranda’s hair? A multitude of sins are covered, but never specified, because we are too kind-hearted, too polite and ultimately, too soft.

achingly: Here’s another piece of journalistic flimflam, eg “They consistently produce achingly hip music.” Oh, for heaven’s sake, grow up! It isn’t “achingly” anything, you pretentious scribbler. You’re just trying to show how “edgy” (there’s another one) you are.

reach out: Last, and very definitely not least, this absurdly gushing and pseudo-empathetic American metaphor needs no comment. I am sure readers will happily supply their own. Read This Column ➤

Feature  REAL FOOD ! 
Pure di Patate all’Olio 
— Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes
Phil Innes

A cook book at the Brooks library by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich had some good looking vegetable dishes and I decided to try some. Healthier than adding all that butter and less ‘wet’ than adding milk.

1 lbs Idaho or Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed but unpeeled
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
salt
1 cup water
Freshly ground pepper preferably white
(option, add 4 cloves garlic per serving, peeled and smashed) METHOD Read This Article ➤

Feature  Reviews, Old & New 
‘Norwegian Wood’, by Haruki Murakami reviewed by Alan Rayner

‘Norwegian Wood’ is an early novel by Haruki Murakami, and the one that brought him huge national and international success, along with a reputation as one of the World’s finest and most original authors. Although not typical of his work and not my personal favourite – that place would have to go to ‘Kafka on the Shore’ – it contains all the ingredients of what I find absorbing, fascinating and deeply relevant to the human condition in his writing. That doesn’t mean to say that I find him an easy or comfortable read – there is much that is quite disturbing and challenging – but I do recognise an artistry and depth of touch, along with an appreciation of natural wildness and beauty that I find exquisite. This comes across immediately in ‘Norwegian Wood’ in his description of Toru Watanabe’s encounter with Naoko in the meadow, and her talk of the mysterious ‘field well’ – an image of the infinite, unbounded abyss, or  ‘Devouring Mother Void’, which the egotist so greatly fears and that inspires such cruelty, lust and resentment when negated. This is a theme that recurs in his other works, and in which we find the essence of his writing – a symbolic juxtaposition of the everyday, the mythical and the fantastic that by turns intrigues, inspires, teases, horrifies and plays with the imagination. Read This Article ➤

Feature  StudioONE 
‘The Plains Indians,’ America’s Early Artists, at the Met 
Photography by
Marnie Rogers

This show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art includes about 130 pieces of some of the earliest surviving art by Native Americans. Extracts From A New York Times Review:— Some of the earliest surviving art by native North Americans left America long ago. Soldiers, traders and priests, with magpie eyes for brilliance, bundled it up and shipped it across the sea to Europe. Painted robes, embroidered slippers and feathered headdresses tinkling with chimes found their way into cupboards in 18th-century London and Paris, and lay there half-forgotten. Now, in “The Plains Indians: Artists of Earth and Sky” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, some of those wondrous things have come home. Read This Article ➤
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Column  Vermont Diary



...from forehead to throat.


A few mornings ago I was in a store and a guy came in wearing a marine corps hat carrying a child of about 2 years old with about 30 stitches in his face, from forehead to throat.


I won’t mention the kind of dog who did this, except to say it was known to the child, and that 2,000,000 of this breed are ‘put down’ per year, excluding puppies, which would make about 10,000,000.


Of course people always say, ‘it’s not the dog, it’s the owner,’ as if that justified continuous breeding. In New York City, dog shelters don’t take this kind of dog any more since [a] they have a depressing effect on other dogs in the shelter so no one wants the other dogs, and [b] why would you want one of this breed when you don’t know what it has been through?


I would like to stress I like dogs, and they like me too, but there is no need to breed this kind of dog anymore since there are already so many of them that no one wants, to the tune of 10,000,000 a year, and the statistics around their violence are both established and radical.


This is not a prescription that this kind of dog will ‘snap’ and savage someone, and I know dog owners who understand dogs sufficiently to be able to manage hunter/killer types, but that is not so many people.


The 2 year old is not going to lose an eye. That’s good. Please notice that I have not expressed an opinion here, it is the plainest of plain reporting of what is in front of our noses, if you have one.

Read This Column

 

Column  Natural Inclusivity  Alan Rayner

Encyclement: A Natural Inclusional Cosmology of Life and Love


Throughout our history, we human beings have sought knowledge not only of our own past and future but also that of the natural world and cosmos we inhabit. What kind of compulsion is it that induces us to make this quest, while other life forms appear to sustain themselves through renewable cycles of living, birthing and dying simply by doing what comes naturally to them? Whatever it is, it seems to be underlain by a feeling that without such knowledge, we feel lost and out of control in an unfathomable and complex labyrinth within which our lives have become inescapably entrapped, with the only way out and back in being through an entrance/exit marked ‘Birth/Death’. This feeling of uncertainty may make us scared silly of some kind of soul-devouring Minotaur that awaits us deep within the labyrinth or a judgmental figure at its entrance/exit who may or may not let us pass. ‘Knowledge is Power’, we may then tell our selves, and with it we can determine our destiny through our own free will, rather than have it decided by some ‘external judge’ or ‘pit-dwelling devourer’ beyond our influence: we can gain dominion over Nature by discovering its hidden rules and turning them to our advantage by knowing the difference between ‘good’ and ‘evil’, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. We can play-act knowing the ‘Mind of God’. Alternatively, or in addition, we may journey in the humble hope of finding some ultimate source of truth, goodness, love and illumination in the depths or beyond the entrance/exit gate, which will care for us ‘unconditionally’ – but, paradoxically, only if we have ‘faith’ in it and request forgiveness for our departures from its code of practice!


Perhaps inevitably, this quest has brought our interest in knowing ‘the truth’ into tension with our desire to live fulfilling and meaningful lives and our fear of what will become of us and those we love in an uncertain and ultimately unknowable future beyond our immediate sensory perceptions. Given this tension, how can our enquiry into the nature of our being and becoming ever be truly impartial, i.e. comprehensive and unbiased? Is it possible to avoid being influenced by what we would dearly like or not like to know?


The tension between seeking to know ‘truth’ and wishing to know that ‘all will be as we most desire’, not as we most fear, has evolved into the ideological conflicts between different belief systems that have raged for millennia and continue to do so. These conflicts are made all the more destructive through the invention of increasingly potent weaponry. If they are to be resolved peacefully, there is a clear need to develop a view of nature and ourselves that most if not all of us can readily accept is consistent with actual experience and that makes consistent sense, not paradox.  Read This Column