Category: People

Say hello to the nice lady with the camera

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date January 31, 2004

As I was wandering about the River Walk in San Antonio, I would pass restaurants along the way, glancing down at the happy groups of friends and family as they enjoyed the pleasant weather and each other’s companies. The sight made me feel lonely.

Normally my love of travel would overcome these intermittent feelings of loneliness, but during this trip it seemed more persistent than in previous journeys. I thought about packing it in, heading for the hotel for a Margarita and dinner in my room and a movie on the tube, and started taking some pictures randomly, just to finish the roll.

I had the camera pointed at the river when one of the boats full of happy tourists was going past. I’m used to being ignored when taking photos, so was surprised when the boat driver started waving madly at me, and then called out to his customers, “Hey! Say Hello to the nice lady with the camera!”

I was even more surprised when the riders, obviously primed by an enjoyable ride with this particular guide, one and all starting waving madly at me, calling out hello. People around me stopped to look, most laughing and waving back, and I was startled into a smile, and starting waving with unencumbered hand as hard as I could. It was only when the boat was almost past that I remembered to take some photos, and this was the only one that came out halfway decent.

Odd how a simple connection between strangers can change your view of the world. Rather than head back to the hotel I kept exploring until my feet were too sore from unaccustomed walking on cement, and then had a nice dinner at a Mexican food place by the water, chatting with the waitress about the football game coming up the next week.

I look at this photo now, though, in light of the news in recent weeks, and I find myself picking out those in the boat most impacted by the events and decisions.

The older couple to the left, do you see them? There’s a new Medicare bill that will pay for half of their prescription drugs if they have them, but hopefully they don’t, because prescriptions in this country can run into the hundreds of dollars on pills you have to take monthly. Half of costs too much, still costs too much.

Luckily though, they have social security to help them. For the younger people in the boat, like the two young guys next to them, Social Security will most likely be broke by the time they need it, with money diverted to ‘investments’ or eaten away by a huge deficit.

Those kids in the front of the boat, close to me — cute aren’t they? Chances are they have inadequate health care coverage, go to schools that will close in the next few years, and be tested like prime beef and judged solely by the results. Actually, come to think of it, even prime beef isn’t tested as much as these kids.

Most of the smiling folks will suffer some effects of general pollution before they die. Those youngest may never have a chance to walk in undeveloped wilderness when they’re adult.

A few of these people are most likely unemployed and there’s a good chance their jobs are gone, permanently. Others will work longer hours for less money and not say anything because they have families to care for and can’t afford to get fired.

One might die in a war about greed and religion, interchangeable parts. Another might take their own life, in despair.

Where is that boat going so fast, and what will it find when it gets there?

I look at the photo and I think these things, and I feel sad and helpless. But then I look at the photo again, one more time, until I see it beyond the news.

When I look at the people sitting next to each other, and into their faces, and at the smiles, I see something beautiful. Look at the picture again: do you see what I see?

I see hope.

People Photography

Hot sun and Pow Wow

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date October 16, 2003

The photos here are included in the story O Si Yo, about the Cherokee Pow Wow held in Hopinksville, Kentucky at the Trail of Tears park there.

All photos were taken in hot mid-day sun, and wasn’t sure any would turn out. As with other photos, some I prefer to leave in color, others I prefer to desaturate and publish as black and white.

Pow Wows attract a diverse group of people as this gentleman with the POW/MIA outfit demonstrates.

A Traditional Dance competitor.

A Fancy Dress Dance competitor. It’s extremely difficult to photograph these dancers as they move so quickly. Beautiful, though, when you can grab an image.

Participants heading in for an Intertribal dance. I used a wide angle lens for this photo, to try and capture the feel of the Pow Wow surroundings.

It was either show the baby in the grandfather’s arms, or this little girl getting her hand shaken. I liked the fact that the adults would shake the hands of the children during the dance.

Either mother or grandmother, couldn’t tell, but this picture needs no other words.

The following two images were included in the post Hail Mary, and were of a Mexican Aztec Fire Dancer.

If you’ve seen Aztec ruins, you’ll recognize this stance.

Fire Dancer with foot in fire.

Bonus pic — not included in posting:

Couple during dance of couples only.

People

Balance

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date September 16, 2003

Wood s Lot has been pointing to sites dedicated to rock art, such as Oasis Design a few days ago, and Ceprano Rock Arts. I have another site on rock art to point you to, Rock On, Rock On, created by Daliel Leite in honor of Bill Dan, the famous San Francisco rock artist. I’ve been chatting with Daliel for a few months now as the site has come together, sharing feedback and photos.

I asked Daliel why people balance rocks. He answered:

Human beings have been picking up rocks for a very long time. Some have used them to build absolutely stable pyramids designed to conquer time. Others would be tempted to balance a rock on the top of that pyramid, knowing that chance, a brisk wind, a slight earth tremor, or even an experimental poke by an incredulous observer will topple it over.

The art of Briton Andy Goldsworthy plays with this interation between “rivers and tides” of time, and his constructions have been the irresitible inspiration of many would-be balancers. In California, Jim Needham, “The Rockstacker”, has maintained a web presence and a Gravity Garden from his home on the Monterey Peninsula in recent years.

Far to the north, the Inuit of the Arctic traditionally build enormous stone figures of carefully placed boulders along waterways, announcing both their presence and their resourceful strength. Food may be found here, even shelter, say the stones — as long as they stand, so shall we.

Yet even the arid “balancing rocks” of the vast Southwestern deserts, perched in unlikely configurations, are merely frozen in their travel towards sand and sea. We know they could fall, should fall, will fall, in the fullness of time.

Balancing is play and it is work. It is dance and, for some, it is prayer. Human beings stand upright against gravity; balancing on slender legs; toppling over in the controlled forward fall called walking.

And then, of course, there is beauty in this craft. Each rock in a balance sculpture becomes perfect in its placement, its center of mass and gravity either directly above that of the one below it, or intricately interacting with others to share a mutual center, much as the Earth and moon orbit around a point somewhere between them.

You asked for some “philosophy”, Shelley, how’s this? Seeing the universe in a grain of sand; balancing all of life on the tip of a stone.

Daliel is balanced. Wood s lot is also balanced, eschewing an apostrophe and balancing a possessive among a plural, or is that plurals that are possessed, without the crutch of a wasteful, flirty, come hither character.

Am I balanced? I have never tried to balance a rock on end. I’ve never built a pile of rocks, layered one on top of another. I have skipped stones, flat beauties built for distance and tossed them at perfect angles across waters as still as death — but the stones have never traveled more than two hops. Never a third hop, that bedamned third hop.

I’m happy if I can just get through life, balancing one day after the other, without it all coming crashing down.

People Places Travel Weblogging

Hail Mary, just in case

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date September 6, 2003

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I drove to a Pow Wow in Kentucky today, just now returning. The gathering was held at the Trail of Tears park, and if you don’t know the story about the Trail of Tears, I’ll be covering it later and providing some photos.

In addition to all of the tribal dancing, singing, and story telling, the Pow Wow also featured a Fire Dancer from Mexico. Fire Dancing is a re-awakened Aztec dance that involves, among other things, putting parts of one’s body into a fire.

I thought it was interesting that before this dancer started, he kneeled on the ground, prayed for a minute, and then crossed himself. The irony of this, as you’ve probably already guessed, is that the Aztecs were basically destroyed by the Spanish, as they embarked on a mission as conquistadors to spread their Catholic religion; stopping along the way for a souvenir. Or two.

Speaking of religion, I wanted to extend AKMA congratulations on attending and presenting at BloggerCon, in a session titled Weblogs and their Spiritual Context. I still don’t care for BloggerCon and its associated focus on the illuminati, but I’m not going to rag on anyone for going. If people can afford it or can get sponsored, and they obtain some good from it, then I say more power to them. However, I still reserve my right to continue to rag on the conference itself.

As to the conference, I have to wonder about the following, included in the description of AKMA’s session:

Not only do bloggers have souls, about which some of them talk more or less often, but religious organizations have — or might be well-served to start — blogs. This session will involve reflections on the ways that blogs share features of the spiritual autobiography, and ways that blogs bespeak spiritual dimensions of our personae; ways that blogs can clarify congregational identity, both for curious observers and for reflective members; and ways that deliberate weblogging can enrich the spiritual lives of both individuals and congregations.

Not only do bloggers have souls… — that’s an interesting statement to begin a description of a session on spiritual contexts and weblogs, especially after the discussions this last week. To be honest, I don’t see AKMA’s hand in this write-up, but regardless of who wrote it, well, all I can say tactfully in my tired state (Kentucky’s a bit of a jaunt from St. Louis) is hmmm.

More on the Trail of Tears, the Pow Wow, and additional photos later.

People

On personas

Post author By Shelley Powers
Post date August 20, 2003

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I have never been much of a game player. I liked some sports and participant games such as Tag and marbles, played volleyball and baseball and soccer, and I’m rather fond of Mahjong. But I never was one for cards, or board games, or anything of that nature. Monopoly leaves me cold.

When I started college, a big thing on campus at that time was role-playing games, such as Dungeons and Dragons. These were a novelty to me and I remember attending a day long D & D festival, marveling at the people that took it all so very seriously.

My indifference to games extends to computer and online role-playing games such as Quake or, well I can’t even think of the names of popular games. I was at one time heavily interested in three-dimensional computer graphics – I applied for but didn’t get a job at Lucas’ Industrial Light and Magic; however this interest was because of the technology and the beauty of the creations, not because I was a gamer.

I playacted when I was younger, and acted a bit in high school. But I quit high school and grew up. (Or was it, I grew up when I quit high school?) As I got a older I would sometimes put on a Social Mask, part of the same costume that included flowers and halter top one year, gold chains and disco dress another. Over time, though, I found that people would sometimes like the Mask more than me, and I came to realize the Mask was not my friend.

At Central University, when I returned to college as an old woman of 29, I wore the persona of Young Female College Student, and faced my 30th birthday behind anorexic walls and determined denial. As part of my ‘fitting in’, not the least of which was trying to share my young lover’s interests, I tried the role-playing games a couple of times but they had no appeal for me. I liked the pretty dice, but eventually became bored with the game and pretty young man.

Now, the only mask I wear is one of mud.

I must seem prosaic and lacking in imagination because I don’t care for role-playing. However, I can walk along Katy Trail and imagine the Little People calling to me as Owl from the bushes; I can see a story unfold before me, overlayed on reality and forming a double image in my mind until spilled forth on paper or keyboard; I can dive into a book and wrap the words around me, losing myself; I’ll look at a photograph or a painting or a piece of sculpture and I can sense menace, or joy, or sorrow, or even silliness from abstract curves and empty seats. If this isn’t imagination, I’ll take whatever it is and be content.

Some might point out that Burningbird is a role, a persona I take on as a weblogger. Yet the words I write as Burningbird are no different than the words I would write as Shelley, or Bb, or Shell or any name I’m called.

Does role-playing give us insight, and allow us greater freedom of expression? I can see how this would be, and perhaps I’m voluntarily stifling my creativity by not trying out different roles, especially when communicating. Other people’s reaction to the roles and the words spoken while in role must be enlightening – but then, how do I know they’re not also adopting roles when they respond?

Perhaps the roles are really bits of ourselves we slice off to stand in stark contrast to the blended whole, like the photographer who filters out the reds in a photo that will eventually be published in black & white. I do sometimes let my Evil Twin out to play, but I have a little secret for you – she’s me.

Are novelists like WG Sebald and poets like Sylvia Plath taking on roles when they write? Or are they using empathy rather than masks?

I think that role-playing for some of us happens internally rather than externally. I am talking with you and you don’t see the Joker or the Whore or the Mother or the Sadist but they’re here, inside me. And someday their response to you will find life, in a phrase or a sentence I write for a story. But by then, you’ll be inside me, too.