Offering Chant in my dreams

Yesterday morning I woke from my dreams hearing a song I listen to frequently in my studio. It was the Offering Chant on Rain of Blessings by Lama Gyurme and Jean-Philippe Rykiel. I'm sure it's well lodged in my head, along with most of his other music, but am still surprised to find I was dreaming it.

Part of the text from the liner notes: "Offering Chant - Offering is an essential aspect of Buddhism. It leads to the broadening of one's spirit in an ever expanding dimension, whereas keeping things for oneself prevents an opening to the world. . . Generosity extends itself to those in material need or inwardly in pain. It also unfolds itself, as in this chant, . . . the practitioner thinks of himself as offering in spirit all the universes, all the beauties and all the wealth they contain; thus he is able to offer more and more, as he continually opens himself to the dimensions of the infinite."

I wonder what this dream means. Maybe it's an area I should be working on. Maybe it's an idea for a book.

I'm not a Buddhist, I'm not anything related to organized religion. But I have been interested and curious about Buddhism for 20 years. Back then, friends took me to a ceremony of blessing somewhere in the east bay. I was moved by the simplicity and beautiful calmness, but felt like a tourist in someone else's church. Now I meditate irregularly, think about the issues, etc. I also shy away from talking about these things most of the time because it's an internal dialog.

Recently I have been listening to some of Pema Chodron's talks, available on audible. I find her explanation of the Buddhist precepts very easy to understand. There is a good interview with Bill Moyers here.

And on a sort of related note: In you're in the U. S. Please Vote! No matter how this election goes, I will be happier if it is fair and a majority of people express their opinions. Of course if you are on the fence, you can email me, and I'll try to influence you!

Coptic Stone Icon

In Portland this past fall I found this wonderful little Coptic carved stone icon. The recesses for the doors are about 3/8 inch deep. This is one side, the doors open, see below. I think this would make a fantastic book structure. I do plan to copy the format at some point.

Some artist friends came to visit this weekend. There was a lot of talk about where inspiration comes from. One of them is just beginning to make art and keeps saying she's not creative. (I intend to erase that idea from her head.) Every artist develops his/her sources of inspiration. For me it often comes from outsider art, folk art and art before the renaissance. (I don't like the whole "high art/low art" debate that went around when I was in school, but I'm not going to try to address any of it.) It's good to look at lots of art and draw your inspiration from the things you are most passionate about. I bought this icon because it spoke to me so clearly. It has charm, a primitive energy and a sincere purpose.


The doors are attached with a heavy cord. The stone is carved. You can see that the door on the right has broken and been clumsily mended. Too bad, but it made the price lower - that was good for me.


This is the other side. Same basic format. The door on the left appears to be a slightly different stone, perhaps made to replace a broken one?


And the second side, open.

There are larger photos on flickr.

Tatebanko, Japanese paper dioramas

My husband received this Tatebanko made by "It's a Beautiful Day" in his office gift exchange. On their "about" page you can see more images.


Here is one of the pages - they are very attractive before they're cut out.

A definition from Osaka Prints:
"tatebanko-e: "Standing printing-block models," a paper-craft hobby featuring three-dimensional constructions made from woodblock prints. The divertisement appears to have originated in the Kansai region by at least the late eighteenth century. Most designs were dioramas with their various parts printed on one or more sheets, intended to be cut out and assembled. (Thus very few from the Tokogawa period have survived intact, and Meiji-period examples are also uncommon.). The Edo variant was called kumiage-e (assembled picture). Tatebanko-e are considered a type of omocha-e (toy print), although some scenes of kabuki, geisha, samurai, sumô and daily life are hardly "toylike," consisting of elaborate designs with numerous elements cut from large sets of individual ôban sheets. Other related terms include kumiage-dôrô ("assembled lanterns," although not actually "lanterns"), kinkumi-dôrô, and okoshi-e."


This image came from Osaka Prints, in their "articles" section.


I love this one. The parts and the finished tatebanko together are dream-like. It came from this site. I am very handicapped here, since I can't read Japanese. There are many more images on the same page.

On this site you can download some fairly contemporary looking tatebanko as pdfs. One is round and very sculptural, one looks like a tunnel book. Go to the download page by clicking on the left hand red link just below the large image.

Enjoy Korea has a few images of tatebanko, both flat and assembled. Scroll down to see them.

Dark Matter

Dark Matter Ring Modeled around Galaxy Cluster CL0024+17
Credit: NASA, ESA, M. J. Jee & H. Ford et al. (Johns Hopkins U.)
From Astronomy Picture of the Day.

This post is for my brother-in-law, Alan, who died suddenly last week.

Gravity holds together clusters of galaxies, otherwise they would fly apart. But there isn't enough visible matter in galaxy clusters to account for the gravity that holds them together. So scientists infer the presence of dark matter, which doesn't reflect light or shine. In fact, some scientists believe over 90% of all matter in the universe is invisible. You can read the complete article on Science Daily.


From my book, true character of the light.

I love the idea that the vast majority of mass in the universe is unseen dark matter. Could there be invisible worlds made of dark matter?

I sometimes envision a starry landscape as the place where people go when they die. I see a vast world, with small houses, or temples, here and there on the hills. The stars wheel slowly overhead. From a distance this world would appear to be one tiny point of light. It is small enough to hold us all as the atoms of one being, yet large enough to hold our spirits, with great spaces between us.

Animated Bayeux Tapestry

Wandering around from link to link to Layers of Meaning I found a link to an animated section of the Bayeux Tapestry on YouTube.

The medieval drawing style is much more appealing to me than accurate, perspective-enabled drawing. I have always loved the section where Halley's Comet is seen. The caption says "Isti Mirant Stella." "These ones are wondering at the star". There are also interesting page elements in the tapestry. The borders keep my eye moving along the length. Because it is a long stretch of cloth, there are visual divisions between sections. Watch for trees and towers in the animation that indicate a new scene. Although, sometimes a tree is just a tree. Wikipedia article on the Bayeux Tapestry.

Let's Pretend

For the last two years bloggers all over the world have been posting their favorite poetry on February 2, to celebrate the Feast of Brigid, or Groundhog Day. Let's pretend it's the 2nd, here is my entry:

The Dead

The dead are always looking down on us, they say,
while we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down throught the glass bottom-boats of heaven
as they row themselves slowly through eternity.

They watch the tops of our heads moving below in earth,
and when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
drugged perhaps by the hum of a warm afternoon,
they think we are looking back at them,

which makes them lift their oars and fall silent
and wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.

Billy Collins

The Antikythera Mechanism

This is a bronze device found on a sunken ship near Antikythera, in Greece, that is almost 2000 years old. The image above comes from an article in Nature. This device was able to calculate a number of astronomical events. It's not clear exactly what functions it was built to perform, but it's a very complicated instrument with at least 30 gears. Check out this wikipedia article.

Why am I interested in this? Well, I am fascinated by archeology and ancient brass instruments. This seems to be the earliest known instrument of it's kind. I don't have the patience to sit and read the details on the computer screen, but the images are enchanting and inspiring. It is amazing that people 2000 years ago could build something this complex. I wonder what tools they used to shape it? And it seems to have been fairly accurate. This is not the kind of thing covered in art history classes. I always feel delighted when I find something like this.

Imaresco South Mar

Flying Over There
Originally uploaded by bertmac.

I am in a large room. Lots of people. We are drawing. Then we pick up our stuff. We're going to meditate. There are holes in the tables for our faces. People move all around.

I see Joan. She asks if my name is on the back of her sweatshirt. It isn't. She says it should be. I put it on with press-on letters. She will remove them later. She tells me they didn't accept my books because they were the same ones as last year. I tell her I wish I had more new work, and that I want to be in the studio more.

When I go back to my table it has been moved. Everyone is getting mats with holes for their faces. I can't find one. Finally I find a stack of mats. I grab one. It is suede, a nice tan color, and very soft.

I wander into a big room on the lowest level looking for a spot. People are aligning their mats to North and beginning to lie down. I line my mat up with other people's because I don't know where North is. I lie face down first, but someone makes a noise. I look around. Everyone is on their backs, with their arms out. I turn over. I realize I am in the room with the advanced people. Some guy squeezes onto the end of my mat. When I look he has a skinny little kid tucked under his arm. There is a guy leading the chant. It starts "Imaresco South Mar." Everyone chants back.

I wake, worrying that I don't know the chant. But I also know that people will be kind, they like beginners.

My Miniature Farm

When I was a girl, we moved a lot. My dad was a career army officer. It's a hard life for kids. We saw tons of amazing things, but were torn from our friends on a regular basis. We weren't allowed animals because it was hard to take them overseas. I dreamed of having a cat and a horse. I also wanted to marry a farmer and to live in Kentucky. Instead of a cat, I had a miniature farm on my night stand. It was completely imaginary. There was a horse, dogs and cats, and tiny chickens and ducks. I don't think I kept cows, but I did have some sheep. I would lie in bed and imagine a white farmhouse that I lived in, with a red barn behind. I would go out into the yard and feed the animals, pet the cats and dogs, and ride on the horse. It was my whole world.

This is the beginning of my love of working small. My work may be tiny, but it can hold the entire universe, like my night stand.

A Book About Art Inspired by Dreams

Today the mailman brought me a wonderful book called Dreams 1900-2000: Science, Art and the Unconscious Mind, edited by Lynn Gamwell. It is divided into three sections. The first section contains 88 pages of essays about art and psychology. (At a glance they appear to be fairly scholarly, at least there are footnotes.)

The second section is a Gallery of 152 color plates. Here's a sample image:

(Donna Fenstermaker, Water Dream, 1990, artist’s book. “Along the top of the pages in this accordion fold book the artist wrote the text of a dream about swimming toward something in the water.”)

The third section is titled “Dream Archive.” There are about 90 pages of smaller, black and white images of various artworks. The images include a few artist’s books, as well as painting, drawing, photography, dance and film.


(Natalie Becker, My Mother Haunts My Dreams, 1998, oil on canvas.)

This book is available at Hamilton Book for $12.95. (published at $50)

Writing to explore ideas

Although visual artists express themselves best with art materials, I think writing is a good tool to include on your work table. Sometimes writing can help you to see clearly what matters the most in your life. This translates into a clearer vision in your art.

When I came home in December with photos of Christmas lights, I didn’t have a particular post in mind. I wanted to show the people on my mailing list a little bit of my world. I also wanted to use the blog to send them a holiday card.

Starting with the photos that I liked, I wrote about what’s nice about Christmas lights. In the beginning it was something like “I like these lights, they’re bright and shiny. There is a long tradition of lights or candles for holidays.”

The process of writing made me put all my thoughts in the computer. And one of them was the idea that I was I was a kid again when I looked at the lights. That was the idea I liked the best. I edited out things that seemed abstract, on the theory that you can read the abstract ideas other places. I wish I had kept my earlier drafts. They might be useful, or at least they would let me see how the process worked. If I had been writing on paper, which I usually do, I would have a couple of pages of messy writing, but I could find the original ideas.

There are books that tell you how to be in touch with your inner artist through writing. As far as I know, they all suggest “just writing.” This doesn’t work for me. I can write for hours about nothing. I do better if I have a place to start. (In this case: why do I like Christmas lights so much?) This isn’t writing as great literature, but writing to find out what really matters to you.

Here are a few general tips:
1. Have a notebook dedicated to these writings.
2. Don’t worry about spelling or punctuation.
3. Let things flow, follow a train of thought, no matter where it goes.
4. Say what you really think. No editing, no censoring at this stage.
5. Don’t ever let anyone else see your writings. If you need something for an artist’s statement you can extract the bits that work and polish them up.
6. Write about something that matters to you. Hopes, dreams or childhood memories could be good places to start. Or you could line up all the art works in your studio and write about what you see there. If something touches you, but you don’t know why, write about that. Be as personal as you can.
7. Don’t feel you have to keep to a schedule. When an idea strikes, write about it. To contradict myself: I do think it’s good to work at it some. Just don’t take the joy out of it by making it a job.

January 1, 2006

New Year’s Eve parties don’t appeal to me much. Especially the aftermath, not getting enough sleep, not feeling well the next day. For me the New Year starts when the sun rises on January 1. It’s a nice time to think about what I have accomplished during the past year. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, but I do like to look back and look ahead. I would like to make more art in the coming year. I would like to write down my dreams more often. I have been working on these projects since last summer, but this is a good time to remember my goals.



Some years this is a beautiful experience, others it’s a little somber. This year was a somber one. I got up around 6:30, got some hot breakfast, bundled up and went outside with a cup of tea to watch the sun come up at 7:24. The sun came up somewhere, but I didn’t see it. But that’s okay. The clouds are constantly changing and the early morning is peaceful. Looking at the sky sometimes makes me feel as if I expand into it. This is hard to put into clear words, but I feel my heart get huge.



This is January 1, 2005. It was very different experience. Some years I see lots of birds and the neighbor’s cats stroll or slink by, depending on the cat. Happy New Year! I hope it's all you hope and resolve to be.

How to be a kid again

I love Christmas lights. They give me a chance to feel like a kid again, with a little of that magical, wondering awe that children feel. Jim and I went out to look at lights in San Carlos and Redwood City. It was lovely to see so many people out, smiling and saying hello to strangers. I like walking along in the dark, or almost dark. I feel that people don’t see me, even when they smile and speak. They see the child in me, enjoying the lights and having a nice time, not the adult who can feel sad at Christmas to remember all the people who aren’t here to celebrate the holidays with us.

I’m learning a new camera and took lots of pictures. Most were terrible. The ones I included are here because they came out okay, and they enhanced my feeling of being a kid as we walked along. (All the images will enlarge if you click on them.)

I liked the simpler decorations for the most part.




Home made or old looking is a plus with me.






This Grinch was the most humorous site.



Some of the houses were over the top.



And just as we were heading to the car I saw the moon over this big tree.



It was a beautiful ending to the evening.

However you celebrate the season, with lights or singing or dancing, I hope you have a wonderful Holiday with the friends and family that you love.