{"id":7981,"date":"2010-12-31T09:11:29","date_gmt":"2010-12-31T14:11:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=7981"},"modified":"2010-12-31T09:11:29","modified_gmt":"2010-12-31T14:11:29","slug":"the-fluttering-of-things-going-round","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2010\/12\/the-fluttering-of-things-going-round\/","title":{"rendered":"The Fluttering of Things Going ‘Round (and Sometimes Away, and Sometimes Back)"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/object><\/p>\n

[Video: <\/em>La F\u00e9e des Gr\u00e8ves, or <\/em>The Fairy of the Surf, a 1909 <\/em>silent film<\/em> by Louis Feuillade, dubbed<\/a> “film’s first fairy tale” by the <\/em>Film: Ab Initio blog]<\/em><\/p>\n

From whiskey river<\/em><\/a>:<\/p>\n

A Blessing For Absence<\/strong><\/p>\n

May you know that absence is full of tender presence
\nAnd that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.
\nMay the absences in your life be full of eternal echo
\nMay you sense around you the secret Elsewhere which holds
\nThe presences that have left your life.
\nMay you be generous in your embrace of loss.
\nMay the sore of your grief turn into a well of seamless presence.
\nMay your compassion reach out to the ones we never hear from.
\nMay you have the courage to speak out for the excluded ones.
\nMay you become the gracious and passionate subject of your own life.
\nMay you not disrespect your mystery through brittle words or false belonging.
\nMay you be embraced by God in whom dawn and twilight are one and may your longing inhabit its deepest dreams within the shelter of the Great Belonging.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(John O’Donohue, Eternal Echoes<\/em>)<\/p>\n

…and<\/a>:<\/p>\n

Today on the way home, it snows. Big, soft caressing flakes fall onto our skin like cold moths; the air fills with feathers.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Margaret Atwood, from Cat’s Eye<\/em> [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and<\/a>:<\/p>\n

Days begin and end in the dead of night.
\nThey are not shaped long, in the manner
\nof things which lead to
\nends — arrow, road, a person’s life on earth.
\nThey are shaped
\nround, in the manner of things eternal and stable —
\nsun, world, God.
\nCivilization tries to persuade us we are going towards
\nsomething, a distant goal. We have forgotten that our only
\ngoal is to<\/span>
\nlive, to live each and
\nevery day, and that if we live each and
\nevery day, our true goal is achieved. All civilized people
\nsee the day<\/span>
\nbeginning at dawn or a little after or a long time after or
\nwhatever time their work begins; this they lengthen
\naccording to<\/span>
\ntheir work, during what they call “all day long;” and end it
\nwhen they close their eyes. It is they who say<\/span>
\nthe days are long.<\/span>
\nOn the contrary, the days are round.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Jean Giono, from Rondeur Des Jours<\/em> [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

\n

MY FLYING-MACHINE STORY.<\/p>\n

For 32 years I have been ransacking the world — that is, so far as I could consistently — watching periodicals of almost every sort, and leaving no stone unturned to furnish information of interest and value to the readers of Gleanings<\/span>. I have especially tried to have our own journal up to date in scientific matters; and until the past summer I have made haste to present at once<\/em> to our readers every bit of information I could get hold of. In short, I have had no secrets whatever that I have withheld. But for the first time in my life, during the past summer I have been under a promise of secrecy. When the Wright brothers kindly permitted me to be present while they were making preliminary experiments they especially desired I should keep to myself, at least for the time being, what I saw. I recognized the justice of it, and of course assented. But it was a very hard task for me to keep my tongue — or pen — still when I knew the great outside world knew so little (or nothing) of what was going on. Scarcely a dozen people in this whole universe knew what I<\/em> knew, but I could not tell it. I have thrown out some hints, you may remember, of what was going on. But one of the brothers suggested “the best way to keep a secret is to avoid letting anybody know you have a secret to keep.” We are told it is hard for women<\/em> to keep a secret, and I think I must be to some extent feminine in my make-up. Well, just before Christmas my heart was made glad by a letter informing me that, as the experiments for 1904 were probably ended, I might tell the world what I knew about the flying-machine, and therefore I have been made happy. Yes, to-day, Dec 26, I am not only enjoying a happy Christmas but I feel just like saying “A merry and a happy Christmas to you all.” I hope you will enjoy my story about the flying-machine — as much as I enjoyed being out in that big field with the Wright brothers many times during the past summer and fall, watching that wonderful creation of the hand and brain of those two men, while it “learned to fly,” very much as a young bird just out of the nest learns by practice to use its wings.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Amos I. Root, an eyewitness to the Wright Brothers’ first circular flight, as published in his magazine Gleanings in Bee Culture<\/em>, Vol. 33 (January, 1905) [source<\/em><\/a>]. The account itself appears later<\/a> in the same issue, concluding, wisely: “No drinking man should ever be allowed to undertake to run a flying-machine.” Ha!)<\/p>\n

I first discovered Joni Mitchell’s music for myself — beyond the songs (by her or as covered by others) played on the radio — via her 1970 album The Ladies of the Canyon<\/em>. This was early in her career: she hadn’t yet flowered into a folk-jazz-African-Latin sorceress. Even so, I’d never heard anyone whose voice — intonations, pitches, stresses — sounded anything like this. But I also found there a song whose lyrics influenced the way I thought, far beyond most of the music I was hearing at the time. Those lyrics weren’t profound; looking back on them now, squinting at them through my drugstore-reading-glasses of adult “sophistication,” I see a sort of dreamy pop philosophy which (maybe<\/em>) might not have impressed me very much had I first heard them, say, twenty years later.<\/p>\n

But it wasn’t twenty years later. It was then<\/em>. I’d barely begun to think, for cripe’s sake. I’d barely started to take things seriously, to appreciate that the apparent straight lines of everyday life — first-period classes followed by second-period classes and then third and so on; causes leading to effects; departures, journeys, arrivals, stays — didn’t come close to expressing how the world at large moved…<\/p>\n

It’s not a bad song to end a year on, either. Or to start a new one.<\/p>\n

[Below, click Play button to begin <\/em>The Circle Game. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 4:52 long.]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

[audio:thecirclegame_jonimitchell.mp3|titles=’The Circle Game’|artists=Joni Mitchell]<\/div>\n

Lyrics:<\/p>\n

The Circle Game<\/strong>
\n(Joni Mitchell)<\/em><\/p>\n

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
\nCaught a dragonfly inside a jar
\nFearful when the sky was full of thunder
\nAnd tearful at the falling of a star<\/p>\n

Chorus:<\/em>
\nAnd the seasons they go round and round
\nAnd the painted ponies go up and down
\nWe’re captive on the carousel of time
\nWe can’t return we can only look
\nBehind from where we came
\nAnd go round and round and round
\nIn the circle game<\/p>\n

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
\nSkated over ten clear frozen streams
\nWords like when you’re older<\/em> must appease him
\nAnd promises of someday make his dreams<\/p>\n

[chorus]<\/em><\/p>\n

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
\nCartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
\nAnd they tell him take your time it won’t be long now
\nTill you drag your feet to slow the circles down<\/p>\n

[chorus]<\/em><\/p>\n

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
\nThough his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
\nThere’ll be new dreams maybe better dreams and plenty
\nBefore the last revolving year is through<\/p>\n

[chorus]<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Happy New Year, everybody!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Video: La F\u00e9e des Gr\u00e8ves, or The Fairy of the Surf, a 1909 silent film by Louis Feuillade, dubbed “film’s first fairy tale” by the Film: Ab Initio blog] From whiskey river: A Blessing For Absence May you know that absence is full of tender presence And that nothing is ever lost or forgotten. May […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[183,38,247,1393,593,53,74,36,251],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-7981","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-everyday-life","7":"category-backwards","8":"category-ruminations","9":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","10":"category-history-in-the-news","11":"category-movies-media","12":"category-music","13":"category-reading","14":"category-poetry-writing_cat","15":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-24J","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7981","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7981"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7981\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7983,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7981\/revisions\/7983"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7981"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7981"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7981"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}