Still Curious?

In order to feed your insatiable appetite for the curious, here is a link to the fantastic work of Zdzislaw Beksinski. His paintings, coupled with a haunting spiritual music, create a maze of meditation and a downpour of sorrow.

Updates: “Lite Up the Nite”

I was invited to be the official photographer for the Mental Health Center of Greater Manchester’s “Lite Up the Nite for Mental Health” 5k race. The race took place last Thursday and we’ve just got some of the official shots up for public viewing. Go to the “Lite Up the Nite” Facebook race album for more viewing.

Images are for gallery purposes only and not for taking. June, 2010

Discovering “A Softer World”

I don’t know about you, but my day is made when I happen across a new and interesting pastime. Anything fresh and fun- I mean, that’s what life is about, right? The small moments in your day that make the world just a little bit wider and more real. Reading the Web comic “A Softer World” for the first time is one of those moments, guaranteed.

So far, I’ve come across very few projects that even come close to touching it. It’s creators’, Emily Horne and Joey Comeau fearlessly reveal every quirky and haunting thought of this generation. Their subjects are painful, hilarious, sad, confusing, encouraging and most definitely striking- the wandering and wonderful thoughts of you, me and the girl who laughs so hard milk comes out her nose.

The next step would seem obvious. Make a fantastic discovery yourself by taking a short break and head on over to asofterworld.com the first chance you get.

All images taken from “A Softer World” belong to Emily Horne and Joey Comeau- thanks for being awesome!

Ithaca and Now: Living for the Moment

Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

pray that the road is long,

full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the angry Poseidon- do not fear them:

You will never find such as these on your path

if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine

emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,

if you do not carry them within your soul,

if your heart does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.

That the summer mornings are many, when,

With such pleasure, with such joy

you will encounter ports seen for the first time;

stop at Phoenician markets,

and purchase find merchandise,

mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

and sensual perfumes of all kinds,

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

visit many Egyptian cities,

to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.

To arrive there is your ultimate goal.

But do not hurry the voyage at all.

It is better to let it last for many years;

and to anchor at the island when you are old,

rich with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.

Without her you would never have set out on the road.

She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.

Wise as you have become, with so much experience,

you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

Constantine Cavafy (1863-1933), translated by Rae Dalven

I came across this poem at the front of a book I’ve been reading recently, The Zahir by Paulo Coelho. I know we’ve all heard these “it’s not where you’re going but how you get there” quotes and stories before, but a reminder never hurts! I say take Cavafy’s challenge and make the most of your day- Ithaca itself may always be an unending distance away, but allowing it to influence our attitude and experiences sure beats trying to impatiently ride out all of the weeks and months lost to daydreams of a future with a six figure salary!

Unexpected Kindness: Car Repairs

Last week, I experienced an unexpected kindness…

About a month and a half ago, I took my Subaru for an oil change. I scooted down to a Valvoline Instant Oil Change at the far end of South Willow, where, for a reasonable sum one can pull their car into one end of a garage, recline their driver seat and zone out to tunes while the mechanics do their thing and then drive out the other side in ten minutes. It’s a simple deal, and I’m all for that.

The gentlemen inside ran my car’s VIN number and came up with a list of overdue maintenance procedures. The transmission was over-full, serpentine belt nearly worn out, coolant as effective as tap water and a host of other issues all clamored for attention. Thank goodness for tax refunds, right? A few days later, I returned to have all of the most important issues taken care of, watching all my boyish, carefree dreams for a new laptop suffer utter termination with the swipe of the debit card. *click* Ugh.

The very next morning my car began protesting. I took a left turn into the parking lot where I work and my steering wheel began to shudder in my hands and a T-rex stomping vibration rippled through the car. How curious this odd malady should attack my vehicle just one day after so many good things had been done to it. A few days went by with the episode repeating at various degrees of intensity- many times not happening at all. There didn’t seem to be any type of consistency or special trigger that set the problem off, other than taking a right or left turn.

I went back to Valvoline and asked them to check their work and make sure something wasn’t wrong. Nothing turned up and I was left empty handed. A call to my grandfather suggested that the problem probably had to do with a worn CV joint which sometimes causes the wheels in all-wheel-drive vehicles to move out of sync with each other and can eventually make you lose power steering. If that was the problem, it should be an easy and relatively inexpensive fix compared to a more typical transmission overhaul in the range of $1,000+.

A couple of weeks passed without much of a chance to get the car checked and the off-and-on shaking had me convinced that it might just break down if I didn’t do something soon. I’d gotten my brakes looked over at an honest place a few months back, so I contacted them about getting my CV joint replaced. When I described the shaking steering wheel and the sounds, the guy on the other end told me that I most likely was not dealing with a CV joint, but rather a transmission problem. My heart shrank. He gave me the name of a guy- Wayne Russel who owns a place on South Willow, across from McDonalds. The garage is named Russell Auto and specializes in transmissions. The guy on the line assured me that Wayne Russel was a very honest guy and well worth seeing. I called up Wayne and my fears were confirmed. Yes, the shaking occurred during both left and right turns, yes I did have work done on my transmission just before the problem first occurred, yes, I could willingly trade my future first born child for transmission repairs. Wayne told me to bring in my car so that he could take it for a test drive to get a better idea of what the issue might be.

Gonna be honest- I put the thing off for a week and a half. There were a few times when I had a chance to go, but either the car was cruising along like a champ or I just really could not bring myself to face the possibility of having to hand over a thousand scraped together dollars.

This is where the kindness and unexpected part comes in.

I did go to Russell Auto and Wayne hopped in my car with me to take it around the block. I was simultaneously worried that the shaking wouldn’t occur so that I’d have wasted his time and I’d be stuck with a car on the edge, and also that I might be hardcore bankrupt a half-hour later. There appeared to be no light at the end of the tunnel. If there was one, it would be a giant electric mosquito zapper with 5′ 6″ gaps in its screen. Just my size.

Wayne is an older guy and he calmly listened to the car as we took turns, making sure to try both directions, backwards and forwards. We turned around in the Families In Transition parking lot on South Beech, which is almost directly behind his garage. He commented that he knew the place and that FIT were ‘good people.’ I replied that I thought so too. We drove around the corner and back into his parking lot. He then spent about 25 minutes explaining to me what I should know about transmissions and how to take care of them. He wasn’t talking just to hear the sound of his own voice- you can tell when a person is doing that; rather, he was simply sharing knowledge that very probably will serve me well and save me unnecessary grief some day. We looked in my manual and he explained how the system worked. I listened carefully, knowing I would probably forget most of the technical details within the hour, but knowing that Wayne was showing some kindness to me when he could have gruffly hopped in and out, told me it would be thirty bucks for the test drive and that he’d have to have his boys do a more intensive inspection later. Instead, he popped the hood and I followed him to the front of the car. When I pointed out the transmission dipstick like a dummy (as if he didn’t know where that was), he told me that he was looking for something else. Wayne pulled the cover off of the fuse box, quietly examined the map on its inside and popped a spare fuse into an empty slot. We climbed back in the car. “Good.” he said, “Your four-wheel-drive light came on. That means it worked.” Wayne explained that he’d simply turned the all-wheel-drive car into a front-wheel-drive car. The problem, he had correctly guessed, was that the oil Valvoline had put in my car when they replaced the fluid, was not slippery enough and drag was causing the four wheels to move out of tandem during some turns. Taking the rear two wheels out of the picture should greatly reduce if not eliminate the problem and increase gas mileage. I was overjoyed. Wayne informed me that there were some simple enough options if the shaking came back or if we had a snow storm next winter and I wanted to switch over to all-wheel drive again, but otherwise, I was good to go.

He refused payment for what many other mechanics probably would have considered 45 minutes of “critical diagnostics”, rounded up to the hour. Wayne shook my hand twice and told me Manchester was a good place. Then he went back inside to inspect someone else’s car when it was already quarter past closing time and his other employees were headed out the door.

Even afterward, I’m left with the feeling that I’ve had an encounter with the kind of person I aspire to one day be- and perhaps more surprisingly, in an industry that often generates so little trust. Wayne could have easily led me into the deconstruction of my transmission and charged me a grand. I was expecting as much and it’s pretty obvious when talking to me that I’m no car genius. Instead, he shared what knowledge he thought I could put to use and moved a fuse. His final statement, about Manchester being a ‘good place’ really struck me. To hear a person you have no prior relationship with say Manchester is a good place, calmly and with a tone that reveals both a knowledge and forgiveness of its shortcomings, is a thing I hope everyone here gets to hear from time to time.

Russell Auto is located at 247 South Willow Street, Manchester, NH 03101. Check them out at www.russellautoinc.com

If you know any other mechanics in the area that deserve recognition and which you would be happy to recommend, please leave their information in a comment to this post so that others can take advantage of honest services and their much deserved client base can grow!

Web Site: Resin Sculptures

I just finished putting up a *new gallery on my Web site (*2009 art) that captures some of the work I’ve done with polyurethane resin and collected goodies.

Take a look at www.curiousseed.com and let me know what you think!

Excavations at the Farmer’s Junkpile

This right here is a breakfast blog. I woke up extra early today to shower, make lunch, and write a blog over some scrambled eggs. The eggs are deliciously mind-blowing, and I got them from a friend who raises chickens in Bedford, NH.

On to the content…

This past weekend, a friend and I- Miss Laura Harper, trekked out into the woods to a farmer’s junk pile we’ve been periodically visiting together for the past several years.

The farmer’s junk pile is a magical place of treasure and discovery, where young adventure-seekers can unearth ancient relics and make their fortune. In reality, it’s mostly just piles of shifted soil, strange rusty bits of machinery and a million blue glass medicine bottles, but to us it’s a pretty excellent place! One of my early trips to the junk pile turned up a large tractor gear of some kind, and even though its rusty and I can’t quite figure out what to do with it, I still can’t get rid of it. Light and dark blue glass bottles, many of them completely in tact, often come back home with us to become light filters on window sills. Even odd twisted glass can be found, which leads me to believe that the farmer probably burned some of his trash before throwing it in the pile. The day was incredibly warm after a cold, dark winter, and my adventuring spirits have raised!

I’ve included some pictures of the excursion for your viewing pleasure:

You should go check out Laura Harper’s art gallery and give her some feedback. She’s told me a few times now her life rocks, and you should go see why!

It’s off to work with me!

The Man Who Planted Trees

I imagine that once in a while , everyone needs reassurance in their efforts to have a positive effect in this world. Media highlights tragedy, employers overlook talent, and so many good people fall prey to incredible adversity. The qualities we recognize as poison to our ideal life regularly take over when we wish we would stay in control. Selfishness, doubt, anger, fear… it’s a cycle we understand all to well, and the same frustration is shared by our close friends and confidants. Somehow, the lowest parts of life can seem invincible against our best intentions and efforts to bring about progress. In the face of this constant wearing down, the vehicles of reassurance and encouragement—great stories of faith and persistence, can help set us back on course when we’ve begun to lose touch with our desire to try or care.

The Man Who Planted Trees is a short, 30 minute film based on the story by French author Jean Giono, published in 1953. If you can imagine a gentle breeze drifting down around the ears and pleasantly closing off the nagging voices of your long day and weeks, you will begin to understand the sensation which accompanies The Man Who Planted Trees.

Simply put, the story recounts the life of a shepherd who plants 100 acorns every day in the worst kind of desolate wasteland. He is alone, save for his dog and sheep. A nameless traveler, who narrates the film, discovers the old shepherd, already three years into his work, as he journeys across the wasteland. The shepherd shows him hospitality and goes about his daily task of planting along the paths of his sheep. The traveler is fascinated and perhaps more overwhelmed by the futility of the situation than his host. In his time, the shepherd shares, he has planted 100,000 seeds. Out of those 100,000, only 20,000 will even take root, and out of those 20,000, half of those will be destroyed by rodents and rough weather. The minimal return for so much work is disheartening, but the traveler is moved by the shepherd’s patience. He soon departs and continues on his way.

The events of history come and go, and the traveler revisits the wasteland as a more grown-up adult. The desert, he finds, is speckled with groves of sapling oaks, and the shepherd remains true to his mission of planting. Again the traveler leaves, a little astounded by the steadfast nature of his acquaintance and the undeniable progress of his work. Ten years pass, and the traveler makes another rare visit to the desert, which have transformed into forest covered mountains that draw deep water into rivers and entices animals into its shade. Over and over, the traveler comes and goes, each time entering a more rich and verdant country which has born out of the shepherd’s tireless mission. People move back into the land, transformed themselves by ambition and possibility of a fresh start- never to be aware of the old shepherd who gave them so much and had been passed away for some time.

For those of you in the area, The Man Who Planted Trees can be found on dvd at the Manchester City Library (YouTube also carries the entire film in three parts, which I have embedded below for ease of viewing). Story aside, its animation ripples and flows, and the lines of its characters and creatures move with a spirit you will afterward find lacking in even Disney’s most notable classics. I highly suggest it to any who set themselves to tasks of progress, and especially to those who require some nursing of a thinned patience and weary heart.

Pt. 1 The Man Who Planted Trees

Pt. 2 The Man Who Planted Trees

Pt. 3 The Man Who Planted Trees

If you know of another story, song or media that is a source of support in your life, I invite you to comment about it so that others can share from it as well!

P.S. Wikipedia was my source for minor fact-checking. Now check out the rest of my blog!

ArtPM: Follow Up

Here’s a bit of a late follow-up to my last post, which was about the ArtPM challenge for February…

I finished my four pieces and sent off the submission cd in the nick of time. I looked all over the ArtPM event page on Facebook, and couldn’t find any real information about what would come next. My assumption was that I would receive a call or an email, letting me know which piece had been selected for showing and when I’d have to bring it to “X” location. However, I was mistaken. On Monday, I received a call at work from a woman who said she was from ArtPM…

“Is this Jesse?”

“Why yes. Yes it is. A pleasure to chat with you.”

“My name is so and so, and I’m calling because we haven’t received your pieces yet.”

“You didn’t receive my submission cd?” (Damn)

“Yes, we did. We need the actual pieces. Tonight or tomorrow.”

I sit up straight. The time sheets I had been in the midst of filling hit my desk. I have nothing printed (and no printer), no matting materials, and no clue how I’m going to get everything done and up to Kittery on a workday. I promise I’ll do my best, but explain I’m a little caught off guard by the short notice. My blood pressure rises. This is a dilemma.

Thankfully, my girlfriend was nice enough to print up the two requested images and we manage to get all the matting and whatnot done Monday night so that I could bring them up the next day after work.

The sad part of the story is that I didn’t actually go up to the opening, which was tonight. A friend is doing the musical portion of the February challenge later on this month and I figure that we might do the rounds then and see what’s what. If you’re in the area and interested, I know there are some good pieces hanging (because I snuck a peek when I was dropping off my own) and worth a stop-by at the Buoy gallery in Kittery, Maine.  Otherwise, I’m posting the three submissions you haven’t seen yet, for kicks and giggles. I don’t like them as much as Chickadee, but they have their redeeming qualities.

Submerged Leaf

Sea Nettle (on display at Buoy Gallery)

Amber with Inclusion

I belive that the show will be up until the end of April. If you do make it to the gallery, I’d love to hear from you about your reactions!

New Piece: Chickadee

I’m taking part in a challenge called ArtPM which takes place during the entire month of February. The way it works is that any artist can sign up to create anything using any medium. They must make four pieces, and images of all four are submitted to a jury, who selects one piece from everyone to be shown in Portsmouth, NH during the month of March. Sweetness. Anyhow, all of this gets around to my first piece for the challenge… “Chickadee”.

I can’t figure out exactly what it is he is doing perched up there, but it is plain to see that he thinks and moves like a chickadee…

More information on the ArtPM challenge can be found on FaceBook here.

I’d love some feedback- let me know what you think!

Images belong to me and are not to be used without written permission. Thanks! For more work, check out my Web site at www.curiousseed.com