what beauty goes unnoticed
Your thoughts?
The Nelson-Atkins Art Museum in Kansas, City, Missouri takes an elegant approach to showcasing its collection. We skipped the Impressionists exhibit in favor of the American Indian, Modern and Contemporary, the Chinese and Japanese art and the Photography collections. Here is a glimpse of what they have to offer.
Traveling back to my birthplace, Junction City, Kansas was a pilgrimage I considered off and on over the years. There was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz on the one hand and a bit of Lena Lovich on the other. After all, I was conceived in Vienna, Austria, shipped overseas in utero, born 2 months later in Kansas then back to Europe at 6 tender months, not to return until the end of this, my golden year. Bill, a fan of Midwestern Regionalist Art, and I also scheduled a hike at the Konza Prairie Biological Field Station for a closer look at the Flint Hills.
The first leg of our 2.5 hour Kansas trek was lovely; rolling hills and horse farms, a little of the magic of Grant Woods’ Young Corn. When we stopped at Grandma Hoerner’s Organic Food Store, I was gratified to find a portrait of Auntie Em hanging in the folksy warehouse shop. 
A few jars of special sauces later we resumed our journey West.
Then came Topeka. To be fair, there were controlled burns devouring the hills in every direction. Smoke twisted off the horizon, casting a pall over much of the land. Topeka boasted train tracks, stock yards and a kind of dark malaise. Like the oil fields we passed through in Wyoming, this was not a happy place. I didn’t shake the heaviness until we were 60 miles past. The question of Junction City loomed large in my mind, but proved to be the epitome of anywhere USA. I was really disappointed, not noticing anything quaint or comely about the town. Finally, I pulled over to get a shot of a pleasant building, which was fortuitous because it led us to Bessie’s Buy Gone Antiques. Don, the gregarious owner of the store radiated energy and a warmth that made me feel welcome in my “home” town. Within the span of 20 minutes he told us we were baby Gods, (able to create and destroy but not yet wise enough to create heaven on earth) proclaiming how great life is while giving us a deal on a photo of black leather Elvis and a strand of pearls, my nod to Eisenhower America. Bill calls him Don Miguel, from the 4 Agreements; glad to have found a Bodhisattva along the way. Don’s motto: 
The Konza Tall Grass Prairie preserve was so windy I thought I could fly. The headwind was a bit battering, but there were glimpses of the rolling, furry hide of mother earth that I found so appealing in Nebraska. As we walked through the woods, there was a palpable feeling of blood in the land. My impression was of the civil war era but the American Indians battled at least as long and hard here. In the two pictures of the woods in which this battle weary feeling was strongest an odd glow appears. I can’t explain it but it does give me pause. When I started imagining writing about this part of the trip, my overall feeling was much bleaker, it was so darkened by this wounded land. As you can see in the images below, the prairie is very light, a kingdom of grass and sky, whipped by tireless gusts of wind.
I had a good feeling about Kansas City before we flew in for a long weekend of fun. Starting our adventure in the City Market among a robust offering of fabulous, cheap vegetables was a good thing. Our dining overall was spotty but all the vegetables I had were vigorous and flavorful, locally grown and really fresh. Next time, we will head for Oklahoma Joe’s right away to get our barbecue fix. This is a pretty town that shows a lot of support for the arts, architecture and music. For now, enjoy the vivid colors of spring’s bounty.
Back in my old neighborhood, enjoying the music with those who dared not venture downtown. I was certainly in my demographic, probably mostly locals out for a spin. Starting with a glass of white Bordeaux at Enoteca and stopping in at Perla’s helped keep us cool between stops. Alejandro Escovedo is always worth fighting the crowd to see. Forgive the shaky video, it’s worth hearing a snippet of Alejandro and the Orchestra.
Shown in the gallery of photos below, Sophia, a young violinist, stood in front of Vespaio playing for contributions to MS research. Her mother has MS and Sophia will ride from Houston to Austin to raise money with the hope of contributing to a cure. Please check Sofia’s website for information on how to contribute to efforts to combat Multiple Sclerosis.
Walking into the Chicago Art Institute was like walking into a textbook. The sheer number of iconic paintings was dizzying. Unfortunately, we left without seeing the photography exhibit, the new media exhibit or Native American art, which I will save for future visits. The Impressionist exhibit alone was life altering. As I said in Facebook, “Art was pouring out of my eyes” when we left the gallery. Chicago has a lot of character. It will take me many visits to feel like I know what this city is about.
Traveling out to the Caverns of Sonora in Sonora, Texas was made easier by 80 mph speed limits. I was prepared to enter into another world, of twisting tunnels and vaulted rooms gleaming with crystals. We were not disappointed, the caverns were mysterious, well-lit and eerily beautiful, an alien world that was only recently discovered (in 1954). Since there was only a small ingress and no egress, it remained undisturbed, growing over eons, carved by water and by wind. Privately owned, the Mayfield family runs tours for 10 – 12 people at a time. Our guide was a caver whose day job was at TXDOT, the group all people “of a certain age” who were new to the caverns.
The tour began at the surface in the part of the cave that was not considered alive, no longer producing formations. It took about an hour and 45 minutes and descended 150 feet into the earth. They warned us it was humid, so no one was overdressed and almost everyone packed a camera, only occasionally impeding the enchantment of the living cave creature. Several moments stood out for me: one was when we passed a small, extraordinarily clear pool of water, tinted slightly green. There were stalactites dripping over the pool, causing a circle to ripple across the surface, some intersecting but all moving with a smooth elegance that made the water seem like glycerine. It was so silky and luxurious, the gentlest touch of time moving over the water’s surface. I tried to capture the feeling in my body but was shooed along, always the laggard. The group stopped for a moment to sit on benches and experience the darkness and the deep silence in one of the caverns. It was truly womb like, we were immediately enclosed by the soft, dark quiet. Would that we had a few moments in this pre-existent state, all sense of direction collapsed into a point. Bill suggested we return and take a private tour to enjoy this world at a saunter. I agree. I am still trying to get a real sense of geological time. The formations grow roughly one inch per thousand years and are still evolving. The cave is an ancient being by whom we are insects. This feeling reminds me of the Badlands when I realized how many millions of years the dinosaurs roamed the earth. I include a modern dinosaur in tribute.
The website: The Caverns of Sonora.
“Just Kids” brought the early years back to me, when I discovered Patti Smith, back when the Armadillo, the Austin Opry House, 
Club Foot, Liberty Lunch brought in The Talking Heads, Echo and the Bunnymen, Devo, The Clash, Willie Dixon, Grace Jones, young enough to ride the wave, own the city – mi vida loca. Those years were full of light and shadow, music, art, poetry, rage, love and wisdom. Now I watch the fire’s flame, time winding through my thoughts in a spiral, bringing me to a forgotten stairway in my mind.
The journey, taken alone, with friends and lovers, into the penumbral landscape of the unconscious, dreaming 
life into being. The realm of the poet, who trusts the power of the word to re-cognize that which is so strangely familiar. The surrealist visionary composer playing piano on the easel of your mind’s eye can tell you which way is up, down, all around. Taking refuge in the hub stops the spinning wheel from tearing the veil from mystery’s dark eyes, rimmed with light, keeping the world in balance. The passion for justice, serving up a slice of the pie to the soul standing on the corner begging for some small act of kindness from a stranger.
Like Ghandi waiting for the world to awaken. The dark hours before the dawn hold treasures for those who are listening. Hearing the silence shaping sound and vision, creating space in time, cresting like a wave into consciousness. Horses running in from all directions, with their nose in flames.
Riding down Congress Avenue in the summer heat on my bike -my horse- weaving through traffic to go for a cool plunge into the icy waters of Barton Springs. Tribal dancing, fence shaking at Auditorium Shores with Stevie Ray Vaughn‘s guitar voodoo, once in a lifetime with Talking Heads at Fiesta Shores
Art claimed me as it did Robert Mapplethorpe and Patti Smith. Working at Dixie’s Bar and Bus Stop, Amdur Gallery, Cafe Brasil, dancing at night, traveling cross country
with a black dog and a yellow cat, painting, writing, loving and riding, a leaner me in a smaller town. The stories came freely, traded with bands of gypsies, the empress and the fool loving on the razor’s edge that cut so deep. Like a moth, I gave myself to the flame. It consumed, it resurrected it cast long shadows and shed light in my dark places. 
I rose many times from this pyre, shedding words like feathers from my blackened body, sharing the light still dawning in my heart. And in moments of loving union, in the moment of leaving this world for the next, I say hello and goodbye to this sweet dream.
Finding an oasis in the city like McKinney Falls, fed by Onion Creek, keeps ennui at bay. Walking in the afternoon sun on the last day of our winter break, Bill and I had to really use a sauntering eye. When the scenery is spectacular, it’s easy to overlook small delights. Maximizing little pleasures has long been a secret to keeping my heart fire lit, so with time and fresh air the flame steadies. I’ve been thinking about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave and feeling chained by my work a day world. Time for meditation, reflection pictured below with shadow play to come. What is it about dreams, reflections, shadow and light that teases my imagination?
It’s always nice to be with family for a traditional Christmas dinner. Our hosts, my sister Lucy and brother in-law Bill are beyond gracious. Growing up in a military family with a European mother and living oversees made me a world citizen before I knew I was American. In the last few years I’ve understood how much honor and courage means to me. It takes courage to face the ups and downs, the battle of life. Generally I prefer a more aesthetic approach, but one rises to meet challenges with grit, a quality I learned at home. Missing Aurora, who traveled north to Buffalo for a white (and frigid) Christmas, we were warm but not as bright.
The tables turned to more down home fare at the Salt Lick, as I meandered out to meet my sister Carol, Mike (my other brother in-law) and Dick, in from California and up for ribs. Holy smoke, I believe it has expanded threefold (like my waistline) but the food is still authentic and the people friendly. Except in the parking lot, where the feeding frenzy prompted snapping carnivores to lose some holiday cheer. We got our cheer back at the Duchman Family Winery (formerly Mandola’s) where we sipped some reds and whites, and split North and South. It’s probably clear to most who venture into this blog that I’m “big on Austin” but honestly, where else can you drive out in the country for great barbecue, enjoy the rolling hills and fields, cypress creeks, vineyards, an ass or two and Barsana Dham, a Hindu temple? The evidence speaks for itself. I hope you stay merry through the New Year and into 2011!
I believe that we are here to become Humane Beings.
We are born, one cell of the body human, comprised of some trillion individuals who are you and me. In asking the question, “Who is God?” I have stumbled into my humanity, accepting the call to evolve as a Humane Being. Embracing the whole of myself, the extremes of good and bad, means embracing all of you and knowing that we are one. It is by God’s grace and through my heartfelt prayers that I begin to understand.
I believe that love and compassion are more than smiling at a lonely grandmother at the grocery store or giving money to the homeless person who asks for help on the corner, although these acts of kindness are acts of evolution. I do know that love does NOT mean never having to say you’re sorry and that forgiveness is one of the most important things you can do for yourself or anyone else. I believe war is a nightmare that we must wake up from, that my great-grandmother, my grandmother, and my mother lost all they had in wars except their love.
I believe when we understand that you are just as important as I am that we will become more considerate of one another. And as we respect all the wonderful beings that share this Earth, we will come to know that God is God in any language and that God loves us all, as we are part of God’s own being. When we understand this, our evolution as Humane Beings will begin unfolding in ways we can only dream of. Listen to your dreams as they light the pathways to the wisdom of your Soul.
I once had a dream that I was swimming against a powerful current, losing ground but knowing that around the next bend there was shelter. As I thought to call out for help, a large hand grasped mine from beneath the water, holding me still against the rushing water. It was warm and comforting, holding my hand like a child’s. Suddenly, two more hands came from behind and pushed me up above the river. As I looked down to see who it was that helped me, a bright white, living flame came rising out of the water from the center of a brilliant azure circle and entered into my heart. I said, with utter sincerity, “I love you so much.” The words I spoke were simultaneously spoken to me inside my heart and in every fiber of my being. Feeling this love and acceptance so deeply healed me and helped me to realize that we are all beloved.
The evolution of heart and of mind occur in God’s time and place, in many lands and in many people, who will slowly change the way we understand and practice our humanity. We will become more Humane Beings when we understand that we are a part of All that Is, and no longer apart.