WORKAHOLISM

“The true way to render ourselves happy is to love our work and find in it our pleasure.” – Françoise Bertaut de Motteville

Yesterday, I had a message from a far away friend, with whom I had not kept in contact for quite a long while. Our busy lives had kept us from seeing and talking to one another. The pleasure was firstly one of learning that she is well and still working away on her interesting projects, and secondly, that we have once again made contact and that we will no doubt spend many pleasant hours in the future exchanging news, thoughts and ideas.

A blessing associated with modern technology is the ease of communication. The internet has certainly made keeping in contact as simple as sending an email or tapping away a message on a messenger program. Skyping or video-Skyping is even more conducive to effective communication and a conversation can be carried out in more or less normal fashion, especially if you are able to see the smiling face of your interlocutor. Work-related communication has never been easier with the all of the modern means of keeping in touch.

Often, though, the problem with keeping in touch is not how easy or difficult it is, but rather the amount of finite time that we have at our disposal in order to carry out everything that we are compelled to do in a day. Work has increased its demands in the last few decades and many people now work extra long hours in order to keep up with the demands of their job. Unfortunately, this leads to our neglecting many of our other activities, not spending as much time as we would like with our families and friends. Needless to say that the less pressing tasks, as well as the activities that give us personal and selfish pleasure, our hobbies, are often the first to be sacrificed.

The workaholic is very much a product of our modern society and is nowadays in many cases the rule rather than the exception that we were familiar with in the past. Work makes enormous demands on our time, not only in the workplace, but it also invades our own space and private life. How easy it is nowadays to take work with us every night? Simply a matter of loading some files onto a USB flash drive and the computer at home takes over from where the computer at work left off. Or even more to the point, many people work on the same laptop both at work and at home (and also on the train, perhaps, on the way there and back)! Email access is universal and it is often expected to be able to send and receive work emails at any place and at any time. Mobile phones increase our accessibility and students expect to receive instant replies to their emails.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” is certainly something that applies to today’s world as much as it did, all those centuries ago when the folk sage came out with this saw. It is surprising that in this day and age of labour-saving devices, increasing leisure time, and strictly legislated work hours many of us still manage to run out of time in order to amuse ourselves and take pleasure in the company of our friends and dear ones.

This issue becomes all-important as the mid-year break approaches and a window of opportunity presents itself to many of us. A time to take a break and indulge in some annual leave. If you can afford to, consider taking some time off to have a break from work and relax as you catch up with family and friends, read a novel, fly a kite, go away somewhere, take a drive, bake a cake, put your feet up. “Taking time away from the stress of work can improve job performance, decrease stress-related illnesses and add years to our lives”, says Joe Robinson, author of “Work to Live: The Guide to Getting a Life”.

The seal in the illustration is one of Confucius’ wisdoms from his Analects: “Is it not a pleasure to have friends come from afar?”

workaholic |ˌwərkəˈhôlik| noun informal
A person who compulsively works hard and long hours.
DERIVATIVES
workaholism |ˈwərkəˌhôlizəm; -ˌhäl-| |ˈwɔːkəhɒlɪz(ə)m| noun
ORIGIN
Work + alcoholism

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday

YELLOW

“Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.” - Seneca

The context of our existence changes our experience of the same stimuli. Sun warms, sun burns; flowers we can delight in or flowers can repel us; an odour attracts us and the same odour can seem noisome; an appealing pallor can become a loathsome sickliness… Our feelings colour the perception of our world and our emotions filter the impressions we process inside our head.

Yellow

Yellow was the sun high up
Warm the beams that gilded us.
Yellow was the wheat that ripened
On sun-drenched field.
Yellow was the daisy
Looking at the sun.
Yellow was your hair
Soft, sunlit and shining.

Yellow, burning orb
The sun blazes, scorches.
Yellow, the wheat that rots
On yellow muddy soil.
Yellow the daisy dried, singed
By drought and unrelenting sun.
Yellow your hair, fading,
Now only a memory.

Yellow was the dress you wore,
The muslin golden in the sunlight.
Yellow were the sunflowers
I gave you, each a shining sun.
Yellow was the lemon
That you picked, sweet-tasting.
Yellow was the saffron
That we dined on, exquisite.

Yellow, the tatters of your dress
Rags, now in the wardrobe.
Yellow, the pollen stains
Of long-dead sunflowers.
Yellow, the lemons
Hanging, all unpicked, all bitter.
Yellow, the saffron
Now uneaten, ghastly.

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday

INKED

“In youth and beauty, wisdom is but rare!” - Alexander Pope

I don’t know if you kept up with the story of Kimberley Vlaminck of Belgium and the furore she caused when she accused a tattooist of “ruining” her face by tattooing 56 stars on it after she allegedly asked for only three… The 18-year-old Vlaminck is suing the tattooist Ruslan Toumaniantz, claiming she had asked him for only three stars - and had fallen asleep during the procedure, waking up to a “nightmare” in her Belgian hometown of Courtrai. The tattooist said that Kimberley Vlaminck had absolutely agreed she wanted 56 stars tattooed on the left side of her face. However, he said that he would help pay for them to be removed. This, because Vlaminck had claimed because Toumaniantz is Rumanian and spoke only Flemish, he didn’t understand her when she spoke to him in French (which with Flemish, is the other official language of Belgium) and English.

The girl said last week: “It is terrible for me. I cannot go out onto the street. I look like a freak.” She also mentioned that her father had become furious when he had seen her on her return home. The family was going to sue Toumaniantz for the cost of having the tattoos removed by laser treatment. The story gave rise to intense media interest and it circled the world. Such interest is fuelled in part by the increased number of young people that undergo various forms of body mutilation and modification – piercings, tattooing, cosmetic surgery, implants, etc.

Ms Vlaminck has admitted today that she has been lying. She confessed that she had asked for 56 stars, and not only did she not fall asleep, but that she had loved the result. When she got home and her father became furious, she said that she had fallen asleep and that the tattooist had made a mistake. This apparently mitigated somewhat her father’s wrath.

Toumaniantz (who himself is covered in tattoos and piercings) has withdrawn his offer to help pay for the laser removal of Vlaminck’s tattoos and, wisely, has indicated that from now on, he will obtain a written and signed consent form from his client before he embarks on their embellishment.

This is story that is disturbing on many levels. Firstly, I shall divulge and then dissociate completely my own views on body modification so that I shall not prejudice my case. Piercings and tattoos are not my thing. I do not wear jewellery of any kind and I can barely tolerate a watch on my wrist. To even think about a piercing makes me wince and I would not consider having any tattoo. However, I believe that mature people who wish to modify their body can do so, full well knowing the consequences of such procedures. It is very much a case of “I disagree with you, but I defend your freedom of choosing to do what you wish with your own body”.

The body modification that is being carried out more and more by minors, by teenagers I find quite worrying. They are being influenced (while quite vulnerable) by family, friends, peers, fashion and this influence can have harmful consequences. Firstly, unless the piercing or tattoo is performed under suitable conditions by a reputable practitioner, there is the very real risk of infection: Hepatitis, HIV, etc etc… Secondly, even if the body modification is carried out under strict aseptic conditions, there are all sorts of complications that may occur: Secondary infection, gangrene, excessive scarring, keloid, damage of underlying tissue, interference with physiological function, etc, etc… Thirdly, the body modification that may have been undertaken in a fit of youthful enthusiasm or inebriated bravado, may on reflection prove to be a regrettable decision. Furthermore, as the young person grows into adulthood, the body modification may prove to be an embarrassment or inappropriate in an adult context.

The story is disturbing for me because the young woman felt she could get away with accusing an innocent person as being responsible for a decision she herself had made. She felt no compunction in lying brazenly and shifting the blame from herself to a “foreigner” who could not “speak her language and hence did not understand her”. Add to the deception and dissimulation, blatant racism. This is a very silly young woman, completely immature and childish in her outlook. The tattoos are an example of the decisions she may be making in her life for which she has no responsibility or real understanding.

The decision by the tattooist to give half the money required for the removal of the tattoo (even though he full well knew the girl was lying) has a certain nobility and gentlemanly charm. A gracious gesture showing maturity and responsibility. The withdrawal of the offer once the girl confessed, a justifiable business decision.

We have become obsessed in our society with instant gratification, satisfaction of the basest instincts, the quest for momentary pleasures, the selfish pursuit of personal goals at whatever cost. Peer acceptance based on superficial criteria is one of the measuring sticks of “success” and “popularity”. Decisions are made instantaneously with no real thought of the consequences or their impact on other people. We place value on things that are worthless and neglect the real treasures.

I wonder what made Vlaminck confess the truth? A sudden upswelling of remorse and attack of conscience? I don’t think so. My gut feeling is that the father divined the truth and pressured the girl into admitting her mistake. What a sad and pitiful story. What have we evolved into? If this is civilisation, then what is primitive humanity? We have popular music that is like some primordial noise made by cannibals before a feast. We dance nowadays like monkeys jumping up and down on trees. We value baubles and gold above and beyond all else. We kill and maim and annihilate our peers like some primordial pre-humanoid intent on dominating its fellows. We decorate ourselves with piercings and tattoos like some ancestral savages. This is decadence…

MOVIE MONDAY - THE SENTINEL

“If the cinema is any kind of force for social change, then it's a force for the bad, because most films are about one guy with a gun solving a problem.” – Ken Loach

At the weekend just been we watched a typical Hollywood film. I had heard nothing about it, but the big names attracted me to it: Michael Douglas, Kiefer Sutherland, Kim Basinger, Eva Longoria, etc, etc. The 2006 Clark Johnson film is “The Sentinel”. The film is formulaic and slickly made, the acting is borderline competent and the story is predictable. I expected more action and car chases, but the film was more of a blood and guts, shoot ‘em up type. In fact, if you like violence and get off on seeing people getting shot, you would probably enjoy the movie.

As far as the plot is concerned: American secret service veteran agent Pete Garrison saved the life of president Ronald Reagan in the past and became a legend. Years later, he is responsible for the personal security of the American president Ballentine and the first lady Sarah Ballentine. Garrison is having a love affair with the first lady. Walter, Garrison’s informer discloses that there is a traitor in the secret service and a plot to kill the president (by neo-Nazis or Russians or Communists – who knows? Bad guys, I guess). David Breckinridge, who used to be Garrison’s best friend, and the chief of the secret service, William Montrose, are put in charge of the investigation. All the agents are submitted to a polygraph test, which Garrison fails because of his involvement with the first lady. As a result he is accused of treachery and is apprehended. He escapes and conducts his own investigation trying to find who is the mole all the while being pursued by the secret service, his former friends.

Now that I’ve written out the plot I’ve realised how ridiculous it all is. “The Sentinel” is representative of the present-day decadent Hollywood mass-produced movie and displays the trashy lack of imagination present in so many movies nowadays. The film is generic, contrived and lazily put together. It is a film that depends on the big names as drawing cards, on an efficient marketing and advertising machine and hordes of pap-consuming public that have been trained to consume such films.

A film about an assassination plot of a president could be riveting stuff if well made and directed. However, this one is uninspired and the direction is flat and gives the impression that Clark Johnson was very bored when he was making it (he probably was). Eva Longoria’s role was so underdeveloped that it was inevitable to suppose that she was just a token pretty face, the token woman in the secret service – she hardly had any lines to speak! The affair between the first lady and Garrison was left unresolved and the president is depicted as a complete cretin. The real mole was spottable ten minutes into the movie and there were some terrible stereotypes in it. My advice is, avoid wasting your time seeing it!

ART SUNDAY - JOHN BRACK

“Science and art belong to the whole world, and before them vanish the barriers of nationality.” – Goethe

Today is officially the first day of Winter in the Southern Hemisphere, as it marks the Winter Solstice, when the sun has reached its Northernmost point in the sky at noon, and hence we see the shortest day and the longest night of the year. The sun rose at 7:35 am and set at 5:08 pm today, a short day of just over nine hours. The days will begin to get progressively longer from tomorrow and the nights shorter. The day was cool, but not excessively cold and we did have some showers now and then – no rain, however!

We went to the Ian Potter Gallery today, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Rather than try and look at all of the exhibits, we chose to simply concentrate on a couple of wings of the gallery only and these were the special exhibitions area and the Indigenous Art exhibit hall. The latter is a gallery filled with mostly Aboriginal art works: Paintings on bark and on canvas, sculptures, some basketwork and a few drawings. The variety of works was quite extensive and one could happily spend several hours looking at all of these treasures.

However, we moved on to the special exhibitions area where a John Brack (1920-1999) retrospective exhibition is currently being held (24/4/09-9/8/09). This is the first John Brack retrospective to be held in more than twenty years and surveys the artist’s complete work, including drawing, painting and all of his major series. The gallery is showcasing its latest Brack acquisition, “The Bar” (1954) bought for $3.2 million (see illustration).

“The Bar” was Brack’s largest oil painting at the time he painted it. Considered radical for its time, “The Bar” presents a stark view of life in Melbourne suburbia, the infamous ‘six o’clock swill’ as patrons hurry to finish their drinks before early closing time. It is also an ironic parody of Edouard Manet’s important 1881 work, “A Bar at the Folies-Bergère”. Brack’s “Collins St., 5p.m.” was completed a year later in 1955 and purchased by the NGV in 1956. Like “The Bar”, “Collins St., 5 p.m.” exemplifies the style for which Brack is renowned.

The exhibition was well worth seeing and the iconic nature of many of these paintings bring to mind some pages of Australian history, values, personalities and the Australian psyche.

John Brack (1920 - 1999) Biography
1920 Born in Melbourne
1938-39 Night classes at National Gallery Art School, Melbourne
1946-49 Full time classes at National Gallery Art School, Melbourne
1952-62 Art Master, Melbourne Grammar School
1962-68 Head of National Gallery Art School
1999 Died, Melbourne.

WORLD REFUGEE DAY

“Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons. You will find it is to the soul what a water bath is to the body.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Today is World Refugee Day. Refugees are a growing concern worldwide and most of the developed nations around the world have many different types of refugees entering their borders legally or illegally. Prior to the 19th century movements from one country to another generally did not require travel documents such as passports and the right to asylum was commonly recognised and honoured. Although there have been numerous waves of refugees throughout history, there was no refugee problem until the emergence of fixed and closed state frontiers in the late 19th century. By the 1920s and 1930s the tradition of political asylum had deteriorated considerably, partly because of growing insensitivity to human suffering and partly because of unprecedented numbers of refugees.

For many centuries, refugee movements were a result of religious and racial intolerance. Entire groups were uprooted, exiled, or deported by various authorities in an effort to enforce conformity. For example, the expulsion of Jews from Spain in the late 15th century, the exodus of Huguenots from France after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, and the eviction of Jews from Germany, Austria, and Sudetenland (now in the Czech Republic) in the 1930s. Political and economic refugees are more common nowadays, as in most countries religious tolerance and freedom of belief has meant that religious persecution is less commonly seen.

International relief for refugees did not start until the 1920s. In 1921 Fridtjof Nansen of Norway was appointed by the League of Nations as high commissioner for refugees and devised a so-called League of Nations Passport (“Nansen Passport”), a travel document that gave the owner the right to move more freely across national boundaries. After Nansen's death in 1930, the protection of refugees was entrusted to the Nansen International Office for Refugees, but this office accomplished little before its mandate expired in 1938.

Other refugee-assistance organisations have included the Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees (1938–47), the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Refugee Organisation (1947–52), and the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), established in 1950. The Intergovernmental Committee for European Migration (renamed the Intergovernmental Committee for Migration in 1980) was founded in 1951. Several nongovernmental and voluntary agencies, such as the International Rescue Committee, have also been established throughout the world.

Since the 1960s large populations of refugees have been located in Africa and Asia. Although the numbers varied from year to year, each of the two regions accounted for more than three million refugees in 2005. In the same year, the total number of refugees worldwide was estimated to be roughly nine million. Western Europe, North America and Australia have seen an increasing number of economic refugees in the last ten years or so. This has created special problems for both the nations receiving such refugees as well as for the refugees themselves. The economic downturn over the last few months will no doubt influence the number of refugees throughout the world.

To commemorate the day, I am giving you Ariel Ramirez’s “La Peregrinación”, which comes from his song cycle “Navidad Nuestra” and describes perhaps the most well-known refugees, Mary and Joseph, taking flight to Egypt to escape Herod’s wrath and save the life of the baby Jesus. It is sung by José Carreras.



La Peregrinacion

A la huella, a la huella, Jose y Maria,
por las pampas heladas, cardos y hortigas.
A la huella, a la huella, cortando campo,
no hay cobijo ni fondas, sigan andando.
Florecita del campo, clavel del aire,
si ninguno te aloja, adonde naces?
donde naces florcita que estas creciendo,
palomita asustada, grillo sin sueño.
A la huella, a la huella, Jose y Maria,
con un Dios escondido... nadie sabia!

A la huella, a la huella, los peregrinos.
Prestenme una tapera, para mi niño.
A la huella, a la huella, soles y lunas,
dos ojitos de almendra, piel de aceituna.
Ay, burrito del campo! Ay, buey barcino!
que mi niño ya viene, haganle sitio
un ranchito de quincha solo me ampara
dos alientos amigos, la luna clara.
A la huella, a la huella, Jose y Maria,
con un Dios escondido... nadie sabia!

The painting is Guido da Siena’s “Flight Into Egypt”.

TRAVELS AND FOOD

“I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.” - Thomas Jefferson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Jefferson

I travelled to the Gold Coast and to Brisbane today for work. Once again it was a very full day, with hardly any spare time. An early morning flight and late evening flight back to Melbourne ensured that I was able to get everything done. However, it was quite pleasant to catch the train from Brisbane Airport and commute to the Gold Coast, about 60 km away for a morning meeting and then on the train again for my meeting in Brisbane in the afternoon. The Airport train ensured that I was bale to get to the airport quickly during peak hour traffic conditions on the road. I am a strong supporter of public transport and utilise it at every opportunity, including of course, my daily train commuting to work.

The Gold Coast meeting was extremely interesting as it involved getting together with representatives of an Australian company that have developed health science-related imaging and animation products that can be used in secondary and tertiary education, medical illustration, research and public education. The facilities at the Gold Coast are state of the art and the staff includes many talented graphic artists, computer programmers, health professionals and administrators. I have been invited to become an Advisory Board member and it was very illuminating to see the operations and meet other members of the Board, as well as the company owners.

Lunch at the Gold Coast was very enjoyable and once again I was able to acknowledge just how fortunate we are in Australia in terms of our produce. We enjoy an immense variety of fresh food products that are available year round, given the length and breadth of our island continent. We are also very lucky in having a very wide variety of international cuisines available. Often the food is better in quality and preparation than the food in the country of origin!

The lunch was provided by a natural foods café in Helensvale, which has a Japanese emphasis. It was a beautiful spread of sushi, sashimi, smoked salmon, salads, fruits, vegetarian rolls and wonderful organic, freshly baked bread. Real orange juice to sash everything down with provided jus the right tartness and cleansing touch for the palate to wash it all down with.

The afternoon meeting at work went very well also and we achieved several important outcomes. Although I believe that modern technology can do a lot to assist communication and can help people meet over long distances through teleconferencing, skyping, video-linking, face-to-face meetings are sometimes best for achieving some outcomes.

Are there any times when you feel at work that a face-to-face meeting is the only option for a meeting and teleconferencing cannot substitute effectively for it?

THE DEMOCRATIC DESPOT

“If liberty and equality, as is thought by some, are chiefly to be found in democracy, they will be best attained when all persons alike share in the government to the utmost.” - Aristotle

The recent events in Iran in the wake of that country’s elections fill me with a great deal of apprehension. They are reminiscent of so many other such “elections” where the ruling party is overwhelmingly returned to power in an election which seems to be rife with “irregularities” and is not transparent. The will of the people seems not to have been represented in the Friday 12th election, the 10th presidential election since the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Iran's presidential elections are tightly controlled, and, once elected, the office holder has limited power, but it remains the highest position determined by popular vote.

The decision of the people was whether to keep hard-line president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in power for four more years, or to replace him with a reformist more open to loosening the country's Islamic restrictions and improving ties with the United States, represented by Mir Hossein Mousavi, a former Prime Minister of Iran. Mousavi's campaign was propelled in recent weeks by young voters using high-tech campaign tactics. This is significant, as more than 66% of Iranians are under the age of 30 years.

Iranians became very angry at the results of last week’s election since it was quickly announced following the poll. They began daily protests and tens of thousands of people swelled to flood the streets and public squares of the capital, pushing their protest ever forward. Six soccer players on the national team wore opposition green wristbands at a World Cup qualifying game in open support of the official runner up Mir Hossein Mousavi and the favourite before the election.

The government worked on many fronts to shield the outside world’s view of the unrest, banning coverage of the demonstrations, arresting journalists, threatening bloggers and trying to block Web sites like Facebook and Twitter, which have become vital outlets for information about the rising confrontation in Iran. Deaths of about ten protesters were cause of yet more protests and people dressed in black objected to the government’s imputed fraudulent victory. The 63 percent of the vote to Mr Ahmadinejad contrasting to 34 percent to Mr. Moussavi is being hailed as ridiculous and the demonstrators who represent a cross section of Iranian society and part of the clerical establishment have called the official results a fraud.

Iran’s supreme religious leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who has the final word on state matters and who certified Mr. Ahmadinejad’s re-election, apparently made two concessions to the protests, ordering an investigation into the election and calling for a partial recount. Mr. Moussavi and the protesters are rejecting anything less than new elections.

This is yet another tinder box in this troubled part of the world, waiting for a spark to ignite…

despot |ˈdespət| noun
A ruler or other person who holds absolute power, typically one who exercises it in a cruel or oppressive way.
DERIVATIVES
despotic |diˈspätik| adjective
despotically |dəˈspɑdək(ə)li| adverb
ORIGIN mid 16th century: from French despote, via medieval Latin from Greek despotēs ‘master, absolute ruler.’ Originally (after the Turkish conquest of Constantinople) the term denoted a petty Christian ruler under the Turkish empire. The current sense dates from the late 18th century.
Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday

DROUGHT

“We never know the worth of water till the well is dry.” - Thomas Fuller

Today is the World Day to Combat Desertification and Drought, as endorsed by the United Nations. It was in December 1994, that the United Nations General Assembly declared June 17 the World Day to Combat Desertification and Drought. The assembly acknowledged that desertification and drought were global problems because they affected all regions of the globe. The assembly also realised that joint action by the international community was needed to combat desertification and drought, particularly in Africa.

The day is dedicated to highlighting the urgent need to curb the desertification process around the world. It aims to strengthen the visibility of the dry lands issue on the international environmental agenda. Inherent in the various events that are used to publicise this day around the world are issues relating to climate change, as these play an important role in the desertification and drought conditions that are seen in many parts around the world presently.

In Australia, especially in the centre and the southern states, drought has been a perennial problem. In Victoria we have had a persistent drought for the past 15 years. Our water reservoirs supplying the megalopolis of Melbourne are down to 25.8% full today, despite massive campaigns to raise public awareness of water economy, rising water consumption tariffs and stringent water restrictions. We once prided ourselves by saying we lived in the “Garden State”, but many a garden and park are now looking parched, even in the middle of winter…

Drought
Flexmore Hudson (1913 - 1988)

Midsummer noon;
and the timbered walls start in the heat
and the children sag listlessly over the desks
with bloodless faces oozing sweat
sipped by the stinging flies.

Outside, the tall sun fades the shabby mallee
and drives the ants deep underground, 
the stony drifts
and shrivels the drab sparse plants:
there's not a cloud in all the sky to cast a shadow
on the tremulous plain.

Stirless the windmills, thirsty cattle standing
despondently about the empty tanks
stamping and tossing their heads in torment of the flies
from dawn to dark.

For ten parched days it has been like this
and, although I love the desert,

I have found myself dreaming of upright gums
by a mountain creek where the red boronia blooms,
where bell-birds chime through the morning mists,
and greenness can hide from the sun;
of rock-holes where the brumbies slink
like swift cloud-shadows from the gidgi-scrub
to drink when the moon is low.

And as I stoop to drink, I too,
just as I raise my cupped hands to my lips,
I am recalled to this drought-stricken plain
by the petulant question 
of a summer-wearied child.

Biography
Born in 1913 in Charters Towers, Queensland, Flexmore Hudson was educated at Adelaide High School and graduated from the University of Adelaide. He began a teaching career in 1934 and taught in the Mallee, and at Scotch College in Adelaide and Adelaide Boys' High School. During the period 1941 to 1947 Hudson founded, edited and published the literary journal, “Poetry”. He also edited the 1943 anthology of Australian verse for Jindyworobak and contributed to the Jindyworobak anthologies from 1938 to 1953. He died in South Australia on 4th May 1988.

Some of the inspiration for his poetry came from his pupils. Whilst teaching at a small school (14 pupils) in the Mallee district of South Australia, the children would tell him of the things they had seen on the way to school.


Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday. Please visit her blog for more poems!

CASHFUL AND CASHLESS

“If you make money your god, it will plague you like the devil.” - Henry Fielding


A childhood memory I have is being given a traditional clay money box in the shape of a fat bell (see picture!). I would put there all the coins that I had and rattle it every day to hear the jangle of the metal against the clay. Learning about saving money was quite an important lesson and when the clay money box was broken, it was satisfying to see all of the hard-saved coins gush forth. I can’t remember what I bought with that money, but many other money boxes followed that first one, metal, wooden, plastic…

Coinage was the first type of “proper” money that was devised and it looks as though it may be the first to become extinct. A news item today reports that Australian Central Credit Union chief, Peter Evers, predicts that loose change will be a thing of the past within ten years. He quoted the situation in Hong Kong and Singapore where already low-value transactions by coin have all but disappeared. What has replaced them is a rechargeable, pre-paid card that can be used everywhere cash would be used.

In Australia, we may soon see a similar situation with technology stepping in to make coins (and perhaps all other forms of “cash”) a thing of the past. We all know about credit cards of course, but they are not legal tender and they attract fees. The technology now exists for “credits” being put in microchips, on mobile phones, on cards, or on an internet-enabled account that can be accessed by wifi. In some holiday resorts a chip on a wristband that can be scanned for credits and the owner can purchase anything that their chip can afford…

The Australian Reserve Bank’s Payment Systems Board is investigating all of these options and is preparing to move Australia to a cashless society. Surprisingly, not much “selling” of this idea has occurred within the population and most people are unaware of it. Needless to say that many may be dead against such a cashless system. People feel safe with cash in their pocket and even nowadays, some are against credit cards. To move towards such an abstract system of credits is quite foreign to most of us.

So, I wonder what sort of moneyboxes kids will save their allowance in the future? Most probably an electronic chip embedded somewhere on their person. Dad will scan his chip over junior’s and perhaps one may even hear the electronic sound of a penny dropping?

MOVIE MONDAY - MY DOG SKIP

“The more I see of man, the more I like dogs.” - Mme. de Staël

We saw a beautiful and well-produced film at the weekend, which I can recommend without reservation if you, like me, are a dog lover. It is Jay Russell’s 2000 film “My Dog Skip”, based on Willie Morris’ book. This is an unassuming film that is honest, down-to-earth and deals with everyday situations, feelings and a believable, moving plot. Part of its charm is in its no-gimmicks, gentle exposition, and the exploration of a serious topic – war and how it affects everyone, not just the soldiers on the frontline, but also the families back home.

The plot revolves around a family of three, Jack, Ellen, and Willie Morris during the summer of 1942. Jack (Kevin Bacon) is the heartbroken father who lost a leg in war some years ago. Ellen (Diane Lane) is the ever-resourceful housewife working much harder than even some men do. Willie (Frankie Muniz) is their ten-year-old son. He has no friends, is bad at sports and teased at school. A mechanic named Dink (Luke Wilson) is the only person who befriends him, but even he is called up by the army and Willie is left all alone. 

Ellen (against her husband’s wishes) buys Willie a puppy for his birthday. Although Jack opposes the gift because he thinks Willie is too young to look after a dog, Ellen finally wins and Willie gets to keep “Skip”, as the puppy is named. We follow the special relationship that develops between the boy and the dog, and as Willie and his family get involved in the war brewing in the background, he grows and learns about life and death.

The film is a funny, touching, heartfelt coming-of-age story. It’s a wonderful memoir of another time and yet the story of the little boy and his dog is a timeless one. The dark part of the story, of course, comes from the war that’s waging outside the confines of Yazoo and small town America. Dink returns from the war, not as a hero but in disgrace as he went AWOL. Willie will have to cope with the demolition of his former hero, as well as learning about his relationship with his father. Dink doesn’t show up at Willie’s first baseball game, and the disappointed Willie takes it out on Skip, who runs away. The dog’s disappearance and subsequent recovery teach Willie the strength of forgiveness, and give Dink a chance to embrace the power of redemption. Ultimately, it is a dog’s love that teaches Willie Morris lifelong lessons of the human spirit.

This is a movie to watch and enjoy. No special effects, no shoot them up, no big production, but warm and human and full of the every day feelings and emotions we all lived through as children. Skip is the catalyst for Willie’s growth and incipient understanding of himself and the world.

ART SUNDAY - JOHN WILLIAM GODWARD

“The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?” - Pablo Picasso

For Art Sunday today, a painting by John William Godward (1861-1922), “In the Days of Sappho” (1904). Little has been recorded of the life of John William Godward, and he was active from the end of the Pre-Raphaelite/Neo-Classicist era until his painting went out of fashion during the revolutionary art movements of the early twentieth centuries.

He was inspired by the painter Sir Lawrence Alma Tadema, and Godward imitated Tadema’s Neoclassical style. Both were counted among the members of the “Marble School,” known for its depictions of subjects drawn from ancient Greek and Roman life placed in elaborate settings, with especially careful and realistic rendering of details like marble and flowers.

Godward regularly exhibited his paintings at the prestigious Royal Academy in London, where they were initially greatly admired by the public. By the time he was in his fifties, however, the Marble School’s approach had fallen out of favour. Godward nonetheless continued to paint in this manner until his suicide at age sixty-one. He is said to have written in his suicide note that “the world was not big enough” for him and a Picasso.

His already estranged family, who had disapproved of him becoming an artist, were ashamed of his suicide and burned his papers. No photographs of Godward are known to survive.

SONG SATURDAY - MAURANE

“As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well used brings happy death.” - Leonardo da Vinci

Increasingly I feel as though my life is entering its downward phase. Once we reach a certain point, we realise that there suddenly more years past to be remembered, than years ahead to look forward to. This fills me with a certain disquiet, however, not alarm nor fear. There are still so many things I want to do, so many more sights to see, so much that is unknown, unexplored, unlived!

Here is a song sung by Belgian songstress, Maurane, that takes the past and adds some future to it. Maurane (her real name is Claudine Luypaerts) is a Belgian singer born in 1960. Her father was director in the Académie de Musique de Verviers, and when she was a teenager she took part in several musical contests. In 1979, she participated in the show, «Brel en mille temps», with Philippe Lafontaine and she was discovered there by the French songwriter Pierre Barouh. She later got small contracts singing backing vocals in cafés until she released her first album in 1986.

The song is titled “Sur Une Prélude de Bach” (On a Bach Prelude) and uses Bach’s famous C major prelude as accompaniment for a modern ballad.



Enjoy your weekend!

LOUKOUMADHES

“Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.” - From the movie “An Affair to Remember”

We had a very cold day in Melbourne today, and although it was fine, the sun had teeth that bit into the flesh. It was a presage of most of the winter still ahead. A busy day at work with little time to even think of anything else. On the train home this evening, lots of people with glum faces and suspicious eyes flitting to the person who coughed or sneezed. A pandemic of flu has been declared by the WHO and quite a few people at the station today were sporting face masks, and what little protection that may have afforded them…

The wintry weather and the strong smell of honey as I was walking by a café in the morning on my way to work made me think of a traditional Greek sweet that is often eaten at breakfast. Greeks have a sweet tooth and it is even manifest at breakfast! It is “loukoumadhes”, a deadly version of doughnuts.

Loukoumadhes
Ingredients Batter:
1 packet (≈ 1 tablespoon) active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1 pinch of salt
2 cups lukewarm water
3 cups plain flour
1 pinch ground nutmeg
1 pinch ground cardamom

Syrup:
2 cups sugar
1 cup honey
3 cups water

Vegetable oil for frying
Ground walnuts
Ground cinnamon

Method:
Dissolve the yeast in 1 cup warm water and let it stand for 10 minutes. Sift the flour into yeast mixture. Mix gently while continuously adding the remaining warm water until a soft, thick batter is formed. Cover bowl with clean, damp dishtowel. Let the mixture double in size (about 1 -1.5 hours), at which stage the dough should be soft and foamy.

In a deep fryer, heat oil to a depth of 10 cm to 190˚C. Make sure there is at least 5 cm between the oil surface and the top of the fryer. While oil is heating, prepare the honey syrup. Add honey, sugar, and water to a small saucepan, mix to combine and bring to a boil over high heat for 6-7 minutes stirring occasionally, until sugar is completely dissolved. Squeeze a few drops of lemon juice into the syrup. Remove from heat and keep warm.

Working in batches, slide dollops of the batter (about the size of a heaping tablespoonful each) into the hot oil, making sure not to crowd the pan. Dollops will puff up and float to the surface. Fry, turning occasionally, until pastry is a crisp, golden brown on all sides, about 3 to 4 minutes. Remove carefully with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Repeat as many times as is needed. Place drained puffs on warm platter and keep warm.

To serve, reheat the syrup and place 4 or 5 fried loukoumadhes into the hot honey syrup. Allow puffs to soak for about 10 to 15 seconds, remove to a small plate, dust generously with cinnamon, and sprinkle with walnuts, to taste. Loukoumadhes are best if eaten warm, the same day they are made. Makes about 36 to 40 puffs, or 8 to 10 servings.

ONOMATOPOEIA

“Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu!” - English round, ca 1260 CE

The ragged robin, Lychnis flos-cuculi, is the birthday plant for this day. The generic name is derived from the Greek word, lychnos = lamp, in reference to the bright flowers of this herb. The specific name means “cuckoo flower” in Latin and refers to flowering of the plant when the cuckoo is in full song. In the language of flowers, it symbolises wit and ardour.

It is St Barnabas’ Day today and this is the saint invoked in disputes, as he is a peacemaker saint who resolves arguments amicably. On his feast day, houses and churches were decorated with Barnaby garlands. These were made of roses, Sweet Woodruff and Ragged Robin. The garlands “hanged up in the houses in the heat of Summer, doth very well attemper the air, cool and make fresh the place, to the delight and comfort of such as are therein.” (Gerard, Herbal).

The ragged robin, Lychnis flos-cuculi, is said to bloom on this day when the cuckoo is in full song (flos-cuculi means “cuckoo-flower”). The plant is dedicated to St Barnabas:

When Saint Barnabie bright smiles night and daie
Poor ragged robin blossom in the haie.

Traditionally, this day is the one for the hay harvest, as another couplet attests:

On the feast of Barnabas
Put the scythe to grass.

Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright
Light all day and light all night.

In the days before the Gregorian reformation of the calendar, St Barnabas’s Day coincided with the Summer Solstice as it fell 11 days later. The rhyme recalls this, which is the longest day of the year. Especially important in the Northernmost countries where it can be light well into the small hours of the night.

For Word Thursday today, rather aptly:

onomatopoeia |ˌänəˌmatəˈpēə| noun
The formation of a word from a sound associated with what is named (e.g., cuckoo, sizzle).
• The use of such words for rhetorical effect.

DERIVATIVES:
onomatopoeic |-ˈpē-ik|| or onomatopoetic |-pōˈetik| adjective
onomatopoeically |-ˈpē-ik(ə)lē| or onomatopoetically |-pōˈetik(ə)lē| adverb

ORIGIN: Late 16th century, via late Latin from Greek onomatopoiia ‘word-making,’ from onoma, onomat- ‘name’ + -poios ‘making’ (from poiein ‘to make’).

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday.

WINTER REVERIE

“Every mile is two in winter.” - George Herbert

I was in Brisbane today for the day, thus it was another jam-packed full workday as well as a two-hour flight each way. The weather in Brisbane was fine and sunny with a top of 21˚C, while back in Melbourne it was cold, wet, wintry. Coming back at the airport tonight it was wonderful to see the sheets of rain coming down. Something we are not used to in these last 12 years of drought. Our water reservoirs are approaching 20% capacity and the rain will help to stop them emptying further, but we need the biblical 40 days of rain to fill them up, I think.

Travelling becomes all the more difficult in Winter. Getting up at 5:00 am (seemingly in the dead of night) and getting back home at 9:00 pm, where did the day go? A glimpse of the sunny landscape in between meetings…

Winter Reverie

Winter has arrived
Bringing with him,
The smell of decay, rotting leaves,
Wet soil and the perfume of daphne.

Milky white dawns,
Sun argent, feebly shining;
Plumes of grey smoke, evoking
Warm grates, hot buttered toast.

Lucidly cold nights,
Wet, shiny streets, on which
Only your footsteps echo, meandering
On the deserted, desolate footpaths.

Winter has arrived,
Clutching in his bony fist
Silken silences, fog-enveloped loneliness,
Cold, pure sheets and long, white nights.

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday

BOOKS, BOOKS, e-BOOKS

“To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” - W. Somerset Maugham

We have come a long way from the Mesopotamian clay tablets on which cuneiform script was incised. We have much advanced from the laborious making of papyrus and the artful hieroglyphics of the Egyptians. Even more progressed than the parchment of Pergamum on which Greek philosophers wrote their elegant Ionian epigrams. We have left the gorgeous medieval manuscripts behind us, and we have much refined Gutenberg’s invention of the movable type. And now, with all the advances in printing technology, we have books, books and more books.

Beautiful tomes, printed on fine paper and illustrated in glorious technicolour. We have all sorts of books that are published and printed with amazing speed and serving all purposes. Pamphlets, tracts, technical manuals, novels, textbooks, advertising and commercial booklets, works of fiction and non-fiction. Cheap and nasty publications or elegant volumes, long tracts in black ink on cream newsprint or illustrated glossy pages on shiny white paper. Books in Braille so that even the blind can read effortlessly like the sighted.

However, we see today the burgeoning of another kind of book. The electronic book or e-book, which is making itself increasingly visible around us. Have you seen someone on the train reading a novel on their iPhone? Perhaps someone chuckling over a humorous book on their Palm or SmartPhone? Or maybe you spotted someone using a Kindle and catching up on some homework, perusing their recommended electronic textbook. You yourself may have downloaded a book from the multiple sites that are on the web and which offer free e-books. For example:

http://www.adobe.com/products/digitaleditions/library/

http://web-books.com/Classics/

http://www.gutenberg.org/wiki/Main_Page

I must say, that on the train, I am guilty of reading my e-book on my phone. It is so much more convenient and much more portable than the paperback. I am not the only one. Many of my fellow travellers do the same. And the readers of the paperback look suspiciously at us and frown into their printed paper pages and say silently: “Hurrrrrmph!” And we just smirk and read on, while peering into our phone screens and don’t deign to say anything at all, silently or otherwise.

Technology is wonderful and now with the advent of electronic paper, shortly, we shall be able to have even more convenient and light and portable electronic books. Nevertheless, I do keep on buying proper books… There is nothing like reading a printed book, turning the pages, luxuriating in the look and feel of the printed page; e-books or not, my allegiance lies with the legacy of Gutenberg. Long live the book! Printed (and electronic)…

What about you? What do you think about e-books? Do you love them or hate them?

MOVIE MONDAY - THE FALL

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.” - Theodore Geisel

Today’s review for Movie Monday concerns a film that was recommended to me by my friend Svetlana. As she spoke very highly of it, I tried to obtain it at my local video store, but I had no luck. I tried Amazon Australia, but it was not available. I then ordered it through Amazon USA, but I got a very nice message back from them, saying that although it was available, they were very sorry, but this video could not be shipped to Australia. Well that got me all the more intrigued and fortunately at that time, one of my friends was leaving for a conference in the USA and I asked him whether he could bring the DVD back for me.

He was most accommodating and promised he would. It was a little bit problematic for him also as when he looked in a couple of video stores, it was either not in stock or not kept in stock. Finally, his wife managed to find it in a suburban shopping centre in Las Vegas! They came back last week and we were able to watch this movie last weekend. I must say that I was thankful that both my friends and I persisted, as the movie was worth the effort!

It is Tarsem Singh’s 2006 film, “The Fall”. This is a film that works on multiple levels, but first and foremost it is visually beautiful, with an engaging and complex (but easily comprehensible) allegorical story that is woven artfully. The cinematography is stunning, the images absolutely gorgeous and the acting fantastic. The music, dialogue, entrancing interlaced stories and the direction are all faultless. It was a film that we enjoyed seeing and will see again in the future.

The story is set in Los Angeles in the 1920s. Young Alexandria is a little Romanian girl whose immigrant parents have settled in California. Her father has been killed in tragic circumstances and her mother is trying to make ends meet. The little girl is in hospital as she has broken her arm falling off an orange tree while picking fruit. In hospital she meets Roy, an actor/stuntman who has tried to kill himself because he was rejected by the love of his life. An unlikely friendship develops between Roy and Alexandria and the two of them explore each other’s lives (without much understanding each other’s world, at least initially) through the medium of fantastical stories that Roy relates to Alexandria.

Fantasy and reality are separate yet intertwined in this film and the connection between life at the hospital (and outside it) and the fantasy world that Roy imagines and relates to Alexandria is the way that leads both little girl and young man out of the maze that they have found themselves lost in. As the stories unfold we learn more about Roy and Alexandria and as each discovers more about each other (as well as themselves), the denouement is perfectly understandable and expected.

It was a rather roundabout way for me to see this film, but in the end, where there is a will there is a way. Of the films I have watched recently, it reminded me most of Dave McKean’s 2005 film “Mirrormask”. However, Tarsem’s film was rather more aligned to the real world and thus more appealing, I think even for the viewers who do not like the fantasy genre, as such. If you can get hold of this movie watch it and be pleasantly surprised as I was. Thank you again, Svetlana, for the recommendation.

ART SUNDAY - LASCAUX

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.” - Scott Adams


For Art Sunday today a lively cave painting several thousands of years old from Lascaux in France. These palaeolithic caves house paintings that are at least 16,000 years old. The Lascaux cave paintings were discovered on Thursday, September 12, 1940, by four French teenagers. The news of the discovery quickly spread and many villagers came to see it themselves. Soon archaeologists visited the site as well.

Shortly after World War II ended, the entrance to the cave was enlarged and the floor was lowered to enable easier access for visitors. Nearly 1,200 tourists visited the cave every day.

By 1955, it became apparent that the cave's popularity had begun to cause significant damage. A study showed that the primary cause was the high levels of carbon dioxide from the visitors' breath.

A system was implemented to monitor carbon dioxide levels, but soon patches of green algae on the walls and other damage began to appear. To protect the ancient site from further damage, the Ministry of Cultural Affairs closed the Lascaux cave to the public on April 20, 1963. The original climatic conditions were recreated, and the site is now in the state in which it was discovered in 1940.

A computerised system now monitors a variety of conditions in the cave, including temperature, moisture and carbon dioxide levels. To compensate for the great loss to the public in closing the cave, a detailed replica was created in 1980. The cave paintings were recreated by projecting images of the originals onto the replica wall. The recreated site, known as "Lascaux II," has been open to the public since 1983.

DELICIAE MEAE

“Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.”- Herodotus

For Song Saturday, a movement form Nicholas Lens’ Requiem, “Flamma Flamma”. This is large-scale work which is structured to echo the form of a Requiem Mass, and is set for a classical orchestra and chorus, with six soloists, but it also has elements of ethnic music from around the world, especially the use of the "Bulgarian Voices," a folk-based characteristic ethnic ensemble .

The text is by Herman Portocarero, who chose Latin for its singability, for its direct association with Roman Catholic ritual, and for its sense of timelessness and universality. The composer has written that to him the only thing that makes life bearable is death, or, rather the knowledge that death will bring it to an end. This insight, he says, makes it possible to enjoy life fully. He uses fire as a metaphor for death, and also as the agent that cleanses. He conceived this work as a kind of ritual that united the European classical culture with non-European cultures' magic. The classical soloists represent "six gods or the higher conscience of Man." The ethnic elements revitalise the weariness of European culture.

The text is deliberately shaped to echo the structure of the liturgical Mass for the Death. The instrumental soloists are a player of koto and bass koto, a player of three kinds of flute, a player of oboe and English horn, a trumpeter, four violinists, two percussionists, and a keyboard player. The work includes several other ethnic instruments and a notable use of electronic sounds.

The piece I have chosen is “Deliciae Meae” (My Sweet Love), with Claron McFadden, Laverne Williams, Gary Boyce, Zeger Vandersterne, Henk Lauwers, Macello Rosca:



DELICIAE MEAE

Deliciae meae,
Venustas tua
Ipsi morti super est.

Ultimum lavabo
Corpus nudum tuum
Lacrimis meis.

Pyra non altius
Amoris mei igne
Ardere potest.

Invideo et odi
Servos funebres quibus
Te tangere licet.

Post me
Procus nullus
Nisi mors
Te possidet.

MY SWEET LOVE

My sweet love,
Your beauty
Even through death still shines.

A last time I shall wash
Your naked body
With my tears.

The pyre cannot burn higher
Than the fire
Of my love.

I envy and I hate
The undertakers men
Who are allowed to touch you.

After me,
No lover
But death
Will know you.