Here’s something. If you slow down a recording of crickets to the speed it would be if their lifespan was equal to humans, it sounds a lot like a human choir (link here). Huh.
Another thing. If you look at this global map of the wind, you can see where the wind that just pushed over the old window on your front porch came from. You can zoom in and check out how fast it’s going and where it’s just been right now, anywhere in the world, the wind. (link here)
This is like reading Paulo Friere (Brazil) on Education for Critical Consciousness and Theatre of the Oppressed, Patricia Leavy (Boston) on how Method Meets Art, and Shaun McNiff (Cambridge, MA) on Art as Research, Willingham and Higgins (Canada and UK) on Community Music practise. I feel these thoughts on my skin like wind from three continents, four countries.
Same wind that’s stirring the trees.
And another: two 18 volt, 3 amp lithium batteries can charge a chainsaw long enough to cut and collect firewood that will last for two days, run a circular saw and a power drill long enough to build a shelf and counter, with a little left to spare. A Sherpa 100 lithium battery can keep a studio light going all day, charge phone and wifi device, with a little left over to top up a laptop battery. If it’s sunny out, you can charge the Sherpa from solar panels, and the lithium battery charger from the Sherpa. Heat from a tea candle can power the reading lamp beside me (invented and produced in Wiarton Ontario at Caframo) for 4-5 hours.
Not sure this is interesting to everyone, but it is to me. When the water pipes beneath the street froze a few winters ago, I learned how much 16 litres of water weighed. It was my maximum for carrying from supply building to car (50 yards). I learned how to do a sink full of dishes with one cup of water. I’m learning the same direct measurement realities now about energy and I’m fascinated, frankly.
All of this together, the sound of crickets slowed down, today’s fierce wind from Mexico, Paulo Friere’s, Patricia Leavy’s Shaun McNiff’s, Lees Willingham and Higgins’ thoughts intermingling here, the realities of available energy and time, heat and wellbeing – all of these things met this afternoon in a meditation with my thumbs in the playing of the Courante from Suite Number 1 of the Suites by cello, written in Austria by JS Bach in 1717-1723. That’s the fourth continent, meeting in my thumbs.
I wouldn’t be writing any of this if my since zero years of age friend Marcus hadn’t challenged me to think in black and white, while taking pictures of my life, with no people and no captions for seven days straight (the first three here are in chronology, and then I just started looking at things differently and took more).