Ave Blackbirds!
Showing posts with label friends and acquaintances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends and acquaintances. Show all posts
Thursday, 5 January 2012
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
Gatherings
It is strange how people believe that the year ahead is going to be better.
Of late, I have had the opportunity to meet with friends from three different periods of my life:
I had a small gathering at my home last weekend, an annual affair that has become somewhat of a tradition. Though this is only the second time that it has been held at my home. And, also becoming part of that tradition was that I prepared too much food again. Sigh. Fortunately, I am quite practised at dealing with leftovers. Those who came were from my University days, and were friend to both my wife and I.
After the meal, we sat down and engaged in the usual catching up. Whats, whens, hows and whos were tossed from one to another like a talking ball at a Organisation Learning Forum, as we sought to make sense of how our lives had diverged. As the conversation progressed, I was struck by how contented most of us were. And how we were looking forward to better things in the year ahead.
Some weeks before, I was at another gathering. This time, those present were from my Secondary school days, though many spouses were there too. Due to the last, there were some memories that could not be shared. Not that it mattered greatly, for we imbibed significant amounts of alcohol and were adequately pickled before we engaged in conversation. And a fine time was had by all. None of us, it appeared, had shared any troubles apart from the usual gripes against our neighbours. All seemed to have some inkling as to where their futures were going. And all appeared to be pleased with what they saw.
A little further back, before the mad rush to prepare for the Holy Day, the Corvidae gathered. And as custom dictated, we fed ourselves well, and made up for the lack of alcohol by consuming significant amounts of caffeinated beverages instead. The conversation was lively, and we dwelled not too much on what we had left behind us. Rather, we made plans to meet more frequently, and perhaps even resurrect an ancient game that we had laid to rest a good while ago.
Strange how all this optimism seemed to be contagious.
The year behind us has been a bit of a roller-coaster ride for me, truly. Work was hectic and oftimes, chaotic. Time was hardly on my side and the demands of raising a precocious daughter surprised me to no end. Oh, there were many pleasant memories made in running after my energetic scion, make no mistake. But there were times I wished I could just collapse.
I have been exhausted to varying degrees by the time I finally hit the sack, and there have been occasions when I questioned the purpose of my existence. Despite this, I must admit that I still feel a sense of hope, especially when I am surrounded by my friends. It is you who show me that work is not all there is, that sturm und drang shall pass, that talking about troubles eases the heart, that laughing about our children's antics keep us young, that the brainless idiots that cross our path deserve all the barbs we hurl at them, that it is worth our effort to be more gracious and that life itself is often its own reward.
So to everyone who has shared my days upon this earth, whether you know it or not, thank you. It has been an entertaining time indeed.
Friday, 20 July 2007
Harvests
A friend has shared his experiences regarding study and examination priorities recently. I admit freely now, that I was similarly afflicted with single-mindedness. I too, studied Alchemy, though I abandoned it quickly enough, once I felt that I had sufficient knowledge for my purposes. Numeromancy I tolerated for two years, ere I cut myself free of that drudgery. It was Druidic Studies that consumed my nights and days, though I will be first to admit that I no longer apply what I have learnt at my present post.
Truly, many of my colleagues have wondered (aloud and loudly in my presence) why I had chosen that specialty to begin with. After all, I had long ago intended to return to my place here in the Watch, before I left for my studies. My answer has been, remains and in all probability will remain, that I had chosen thus for the sake of Art.
For clarity, I mean Art, not The Art. It is Leonardo, Rafello, Gaudi, Rembrandt, Edward Burne-Jones and their Brotherhood that has inspired me for most of my life. Music is a great comfort, of course, and food is a pleasure in itself. But the paintings, and other works, of these Masters that make my heart beat a little faster, make my breath catch in my throat, and bring a tear to my eye. Once I sought to join their ranks, but I have learnt that this ambition far, far outstripped what meagre talent I possessed. Nevertheless, I have knelt for four years, as the Indigo Girls have sung, prostrating myself to the higher mind, though certainly not for the sake of that singular piece of paper. At least, that had not been my primary purpose.
Some have argued that I should have studied Art then, rather than the Mysteries of the Druids, had I been so enamoured with it. Yet, I knew myself better than most men know themselves, even at a young age. To force deadlines and regular peformance upon myself was to slowly but surely erode what love or interest I had in any particular subject. I enjoyed my small triumphs and lofty goals in that field to impose any regiment upon it. Hence I chose something else:
Druidic Studies involved some practices that border upon necromancy, but this same discipline allowed me to gain much knowledge regarding the structure of the bodies of animals, and in relation, understand the corresponding bits and pieces of Man. While I was strongly attracted to this, I came to find myself fascinated with plants, how they related to their environment, and how did they produce growth using naught but air and water? My quest for this knowledge came upon me quietly, and quite by surprise. After all, most of my time had been spent in drawing small but detailed diagrams of common, and not so common plants, that exist upon this isle, and learning to differentiate them. A chance to practice my art, at least. This practice also gave rise to other chances, in another sense: a great many acquaintances learned of my skill and took pains to borrow my diagrams to make copies. I like to think that I loaned them out regardless of fear or favour, but the truth was that more women than men borrowed my work. My wife, indeed, was one of those who approached me with greater frequency than others.
Our courtship was a cautious thing: I was not certain if she was merely be friendly because of my art, or was my art merely an excuse for her to become more friendly. I was young, of course, and the difference made a difference to me then. Were I able to give advice to my younger self, I would have told me to get over it, and just enjoy the moment. And her company, of course!
Looking at it all, one might say that the harvest that I received for my efforts did not disappoint:
Primus: I got my paper, which mattered to my family and helped to open doors where I was employed. It was not so much what one studied, but that one had studied, after all. The Service has a mysterious and convoluted logic in its hiring methods, no doubt a result of its equally complex and somewhat inscrutable history. (One can often learn what took place and how it took place, but not exactly why it took place that way.)
Secundus: I gained the perspective that I so greatly desired. My art improved because of it, I like to think. Ironic, of course, that I seldom have the time to pick up my brushes. I have learned to differentiate between good and great art, particularly in popular cultural works from the Empire of the Sun, the Fragrant Harbour and parts of the Middle Kingdom. It has enriched my life, if naught else.
Tertius: I have gained the company of a lovely woman, who has, in greater or lesser portions, tolerated my eccentricities over the past decade (more if you count our courtship), and borne me a lovely daughter. A more obstinate, mischievous and happy child I have not seen. But not a great surprise, when I consider my own childhood, and that of my wife.
A bountiful harvest indeed.
Truly, many of my colleagues have wondered (aloud and loudly in my presence) why I had chosen that specialty to begin with. After all, I had long ago intended to return to my place here in the Watch, before I left for my studies. My answer has been, remains and in all probability will remain, that I had chosen thus for the sake of Art.
For clarity, I mean Art, not The Art. It is Leonardo, Rafello, Gaudi, Rembrandt, Edward Burne-Jones and their Brotherhood that has inspired me for most of my life. Music is a great comfort, of course, and food is a pleasure in itself. But the paintings, and other works, of these Masters that make my heart beat a little faster, make my breath catch in my throat, and bring a tear to my eye. Once I sought to join their ranks, but I have learnt that this ambition far, far outstripped what meagre talent I possessed. Nevertheless, I have knelt for four years, as the Indigo Girls have sung, prostrating myself to the higher mind, though certainly not for the sake of that singular piece of paper. At least, that had not been my primary purpose.
Some have argued that I should have studied Art then, rather than the Mysteries of the Druids, had I been so enamoured with it. Yet, I knew myself better than most men know themselves, even at a young age. To force deadlines and regular peformance upon myself was to slowly but surely erode what love or interest I had in any particular subject. I enjoyed my small triumphs and lofty goals in that field to impose any regiment upon it. Hence I chose something else:
Druidic Studies involved some practices that border upon necromancy, but this same discipline allowed me to gain much knowledge regarding the structure of the bodies of animals, and in relation, understand the corresponding bits and pieces of Man. While I was strongly attracted to this, I came to find myself fascinated with plants, how they related to their environment, and how did they produce growth using naught but air and water? My quest for this knowledge came upon me quietly, and quite by surprise. After all, most of my time had been spent in drawing small but detailed diagrams of common, and not so common plants, that exist upon this isle, and learning to differentiate them. A chance to practice my art, at least. This practice also gave rise to other chances, in another sense: a great many acquaintances learned of my skill and took pains to borrow my diagrams to make copies. I like to think that I loaned them out regardless of fear or favour, but the truth was that more women than men borrowed my work. My wife, indeed, was one of those who approached me with greater frequency than others.
Our courtship was a cautious thing: I was not certain if she was merely be friendly because of my art, or was my art merely an excuse for her to become more friendly. I was young, of course, and the difference made a difference to me then. Were I able to give advice to my younger self, I would have told me to get over it, and just enjoy the moment. And her company, of course!
Looking at it all, one might say that the harvest that I received for my efforts did not disappoint:
Primus: I got my paper, which mattered to my family and helped to open doors where I was employed. It was not so much what one studied, but that one had studied, after all. The Service has a mysterious and convoluted logic in its hiring methods, no doubt a result of its equally complex and somewhat inscrutable history. (One can often learn what took place and how it took place, but not exactly why it took place that way.)
Secundus: I gained the perspective that I so greatly desired. My art improved because of it, I like to think. Ironic, of course, that I seldom have the time to pick up my brushes. I have learned to differentiate between good and great art, particularly in popular cultural works from the Empire of the Sun, the Fragrant Harbour and parts of the Middle Kingdom. It has enriched my life, if naught else.
Tertius: I have gained the company of a lovely woman, who has, in greater or lesser portions, tolerated my eccentricities over the past decade (more if you count our courtship), and borne me a lovely daughter. A more obstinate, mischievous and happy child I have not seen. But not a great surprise, when I consider my own childhood, and that of my wife.
A bountiful harvest indeed.
Thursday, 19 July 2007
Quiz
I had promised myself to make an effort at polishing my swords, so I had to keep myself awake long enough for my daughter to go to sleep. Don't want her wandering into the room with naked steel and polish strewn across the floor, after all. So I found myself going through a handful of blogs - just the usual suspects. In one of them, rather well-known for comments on books, I found the quiz below. It was one that I have known about but had not taken yet. So .....
Discworld: Which Ankh-Morpork City Watch Character are YOU?
Ha! Was there ever any doubt?
Discworld: Which Ankh-Morpork City Watch Character are YOU?
Ha! Was there ever any doubt?
Wednesday, 13 June 2007
The Labyrinth
Sting's Songs from the Labyrinth plays as I scribe this, bringing me back to another age. A more romantic age, some claim, an age of wondrous letters and songs of love. I will not gainsay them. Perhaps one's heart dwells upon love and desire when one must wait months for a reply. Perhaps inspiration's hammer strikes often and true when one has the luxury of mooning away one's afternoons. Perhaps the heartache of loss hurts more deeply when the nights are long and lack diversion. Perhaps I am merely feeling overwhelmed; butter spread so thin that one needs to feel the greasy surface to know which side of the bread it is on.
Time is no longer measured in months and seasons, as it was in days past. Suzanne Vega sang of Yesterday's Troubles, just as Sting's music evokes an image of days that flowed at a slower, more stately pace. These days, time is measured in minutes and seconds, with emails and sms' marching in and occupying the march of my hours. These days, my days pass in a torrent, a veritable cascade, bringing with them the flotsam and jetsam of recollections and regrets. These days, I begin to feel the weight of my years.
I know the reason for this mood: over the course of the last few weeks, I have been blessed with a great many chance meetings. Friends and acquaintances from my past, from school, from previous jobs, and even from other worlds, have appeared in the river of my days; ripples that I thought spent surface now, to reveal that they had merely been hiding beneath all the turbulence.
It was a joy to see each and every one of them again. Some I have not met in seasons, others in years, and the rare few, for nigh two decades. An orgy of 'do you remember's and 'what have you done with your life's generally ensued, followed by the exchange of numbers and email addresses, and promises to 'stay in touch'. Yet, in the hustle and bustle of our lives, will we? Too much to do, and too little time. This is a disease that afflicts us all in this day and age. Our work consumes far too much of our time and our energies, and what we did not squander in our headlong rush towards that next project deadline, we dole out to our families. Little wonder then, that we hardly have time to meet and eat and drink copious amounts of caffeinated beverages. Once I would have said beer, whisky or wine, but I am getting older and the penalties for getting caught with alcohol in one's bloodstream is fast approaching cruel and unusual proportions. The authorities in question will doubtless disagree.
So I am resolved, for this year at least, to seize the day, to live in the now. I shall make time. I shall invest it wisely in my family and my friends. I shall fashion good memories and great works together. Or great memories and good works, accordingly. There will come a time for me to retire, a time where my days are no longer filled with such pressing demands. When that time comes, my family and friends shall be there to inspire me and surprise me. And should they be otherwise occupied .... Well, I shall have reminiscences aplenty to keep me warm.
Time is no longer measured in months and seasons, as it was in days past. Suzanne Vega sang of Yesterday's Troubles, just as Sting's music evokes an image of days that flowed at a slower, more stately pace. These days, time is measured in minutes and seconds, with emails and sms' marching in and occupying the march of my hours. These days, my days pass in a torrent, a veritable cascade, bringing with them the flotsam and jetsam of recollections and regrets. These days, I begin to feel the weight of my years.
I know the reason for this mood: over the course of the last few weeks, I have been blessed with a great many chance meetings. Friends and acquaintances from my past, from school, from previous jobs, and even from other worlds, have appeared in the river of my days; ripples that I thought spent surface now, to reveal that they had merely been hiding beneath all the turbulence.
It was a joy to see each and every one of them again. Some I have not met in seasons, others in years, and the rare few, for nigh two decades. An orgy of 'do you remember's and 'what have you done with your life's generally ensued, followed by the exchange of numbers and email addresses, and promises to 'stay in touch'. Yet, in the hustle and bustle of our lives, will we? Too much to do, and too little time. This is a disease that afflicts us all in this day and age. Our work consumes far too much of our time and our energies, and what we did not squander in our headlong rush towards that next project deadline, we dole out to our families. Little wonder then, that we hardly have time to meet and eat and drink copious amounts of caffeinated beverages. Once I would have said beer, whisky or wine, but I am getting older and the penalties for getting caught with alcohol in one's bloodstream is fast approaching cruel and unusual proportions. The authorities in question will doubtless disagree.
So I am resolved, for this year at least, to seize the day, to live in the now. I shall make time. I shall invest it wisely in my family and my friends. I shall fashion good memories and great works together. Or great memories and good works, accordingly. There will come a time for me to retire, a time where my days are no longer filled with such pressing demands. When that time comes, my family and friends shall be there to inspire me and surprise me. And should they be otherwise occupied .... Well, I shall have reminiscences aplenty to keep me warm.
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