Category Archives: transformation

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Design and build

The Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Sculpture Race has some serious designers. I don’t know if they use a forge, but the sculptures have to go in the 52 degree water and come out a few blocks away. They have to move in the water, not just float. They have to have functional brakes, since they go over a significant hill and they are human powered. They have to get through the mudbog somehow.

Some go for power and some try to go light. This one looked the lightest this year.

Many have been in more than one race and the racers and their support teams are happy to lift the hood and explain.

The two bundles under the hood are lifejackets and floats for the water course. They have to carry all the parts on the sculpture. Each team can have support personnel. Our local school kids’ STEM groups had a Maker’s Fair near the water course. We have a group that has made an underwater robot to fish out lost crab pots. If the pot’s line is lost, crabs and other creatures can be trapped inside to die. The robot helps to fish out the trash that traps creatures.

Wikipedia lists ten locations for Kinetic Sculpture Races. Ours has been going for 35 years. Will someone forge a new vehicle that we start using daily? I hope so.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: forge.

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Guide

The Ragtag Daily Prompt is latibule: a place where you feel safe and cosy. I was going to say my house, but I wrote this poem near the end of my stay in Italy. My latibule is my mind. The poem is named Guide.

Guide

I want to write a travel guide
To the interior
No matter where I am
nor who I am with
nor what the circumstance
Ok, in a disaster or crisis I act
I don’t withdraw
But barring that
What does your space look like inside?

My interior is a garden
And an ocean
And the universe
Monsters, angels, demons, daemons
Friends
Many dead
People remembered and loved
Even if they don’t love me
Even if there is no reconciliation
Flowers birds insects science sex philosophy
A universe of stars and math
Tiny atoms, shy electrons circle protons
Whirl happily at the atomic level
Nebulae and black holes
Other worlds and beings
Of course there are other beings
In this wide universe

I am riding on a train in Italy
And traveling my vast interior
At the same time.

Written September 10, 2023. The photograph is from a friend’s doll house.

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Diversity

This is the Trevi Fountain. We can curate the photographs so that we can’t see the crowd. Here is the crowd.

There are lots of changes from 43 years ago, 1980, when I traveled there. More people. We were traveling in January and February 1980, so that’s not a fair comparison. But the crowd is more diverse. At that time we ran into Australian travelers, the same people in hostels as we traveled. We were mostly Caucasian. Now the crowd is much more diverse and I also do not know what language a person will speak. Race is a messy construct anyhow, very unscientific, but I really like the diversity and not knowing what language a person will be fluent in until I hear them speak.

Here is the Vatican Museum. Also crowded and diverse.

Here is a park near the train station in Rome with some “Olympics” for both kids and adults.

We were staying in hostels and only did one formal tour. I wonder if the expensive hotels have the same diversity.

Let’s end with the fountain again.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt.

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Evil squirrels falling change

The Ragtag Daily Prompt is change. Lots of that here, since I was gone for two weeks!

  1. The evil squirrel has destroyed the third bird feeder. I was not home to chase it out of the yard yelling and it shredded the latest feeder. I am going to try one of those feeders that shuts when the squirrels weight lands on it. More expensive, but nearly equal to the three I’ve had chewed up!
  2. I left in summer and return to fall. Leaves are down, colors are turning, it is cooler in the morning and evening. We had a high of 64 F yesterday. That feels cool after northern Italy.
  3. I am stronger and slimmer. Carrying a loaded pack daily or every other day really made a difference! I was not sure my right shoulder would hold out, but it did, just. I went through PT earlier this year. I am doing my exercises again.
  4. I had some wonderful time with my daughter. Not that that’s a change, but she is stronger too!

Sol Duc tongue out.

Looking big-eyed, like a Keen painting.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: change.

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Comfortable with angles

I am thinking about monsters
That I am comfortable with the monsters
in my dreams
but terrified by the angels.
Though I type angles.

But I also dream that all the angels fall
all are made to fall
they fall down then back up
when they fall down they burn
if they fall here
burn in the atmosphere
then they are red or black and burnt
and we think they are devils: monsters.

If angels are monsters
and monsters are angels
and they go back and forth
and I type angles
because everyone makes mistakes
even angels
and to make something perfect
is an offense to the Beloved
because only the Beloved is perfect
and ineffable.

Still the angels.
I am afraid.
So was Mary, sore afraid.
Monsters are easy: at worst they can kill me
and they never have
in my dreams.
And they are sad and alone and weep.
I comfort them. Which makes them afraid,
because they are not used to being loved.
I wonder if I frighten them
like the angels frighten me.

And then I can understand
a little
of why the angels frighten me so much.
I too am not used
to feeling loved.

written September 13, 2023

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bread winner. But I can’t eat gluten any more and my lungs are too vulnerable for the work I love. So how bread and how winner? Maybe the angels and angles and monsters will tell me.

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Layers of history

We wandered Rome today, to the Pantheon first and the through layers of ruins to the Colosseum. It is so amazing to see and read about buildings from 2000 years ago or 1000 years ago. It appears it’s peculiarly difficult to dig the new metro line without unearthing more ruins.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: peculiar.

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Favorite

I used to have a favorite agate, chalcedony nodule
found on the beaches here, during Covid. Surprising me.
I did not expect anything and only long to find something
to sustain me, just a little. I find a stone shaped heart, agate hard
and not clear. Not chalcedony, murky with impurities.
Yet the stone sustains me and I keep walking.
Even when I see that the impurities are on the outside too.
Camouflage, refusing to be washed clean, refusing change.

That one is lost, back in its’ native mud and sand. Someday
it may be polished clear, but it shrinks as it is tossed
among the other stones. It is running out of time and surface area.
It may not be heart shaped any more. My favorite now is clear,
a rich red with tiny streamers of darker red inside. I carry it with me,
I carry it in my heart. It is more nearly shaped like a heart,
a real heart, then the conventional one that is lost.

Be warned, then, that that one may be on the beaches here.
Or it could be that it has already been picked up
and taken, the finder hoping to wash it clean and see
the clear beauty as the light shines through.
Transparency is rare. I walk a mile of beach to find even one
clear stone. Don’t be fooled by that one: the dirt is embedded.
I won’t say never, but the chances of transparency and love
shrinks as it is worn away by the restless tides
and crashing against all the other rocks.