Chinese New Year

in the land of Chinese New Year (moved from Faraway tree blog)

2006-02-19T09:43:00.000-08:00

There was a slithering sound and the rasp of many scales against a hard surface, followed by a series of thuds as several sets of feet landed on the ground. "Are you sure this is the right day?" asked a peevish voice, "because I'm so stiff I don't think I could climb back up", it continued. "Yes, of course, I'm sure", replied another voice. "You know as well as I do that the temple has been a hive of activity for the last couple of days." "Can't you see all the red lanterns everywhere?" chimed in a third voice, just for good measure." "And didn't you smell all those wonderful roast chickens that were offered this morning?" asked the second voice. "Oh well, if you are quite sure ...." and the first voice tailed off.

While they had been talking there had been more sounds of scratching scales and thuds. Finally, against the glowing backdrop of the altar appeared a curious procession. The ornately carved temple dragons had uncoiled themselves from the columns around which they had spent the whole of the previous year in immobility and were assembling in the main courtyard of the temple. A curious chinking noise announced the arrival of the little ceramic dragons, which had left their places in the landscapes above the lintels, and these were soon joined by the wind dragons which breezed in from the roof tops.

One of the temple monks, who understood the language of dragons, had heard them muttering amongst themselves that it wasn't fair that only the golden dragons embroidered on the special parasols ever got to see the famous lion dances that took place on the pier every year. The monk had taken pity on them and suggested that they slough their skins and leave them attached to the columns so that no one would suspect that they had abandoned their posts. When all the festivities were over they could all climb back and would look as if they had been given a spring clean in honour of the new year.

Thus it was, that they now crept along in the shadows towards the pier where they hoped to pass unnoticed, by attaching themselves to the portable shrine, which had been set up.

Hundreds of people, adults and children alike, had gathered in expectation. Not just members of the local Chinese community but there were plenty of 'farangs' (foreigners) as well, eager to see how the Chinese New Year was celebrated. The festivities commenced with the explosion of hundreds of firecrackers and bits of red paper flew through the air, accompanied by sparks, smoke and loud bangs. The first spectacle of the evening was the ritualistic fight between the red and black and the white lions.

The white lion won, of course, and decided to show off by jumping to great heights and by leaping along a series of columns of different heights.

At times it pretended to lose its balance and fall off, which prompted gasps from the crowd.

It batted its massive eyelids at the crowd to invite people to feed it money and opened its mouth to receive these gifts.

When someone was foolish enough to "feed" it a chrysanthemum flower, it spat out a shower of petals in disgust. Its antics completed, it jumped to the ground and paraded around begging more money from the onlookers.

Acrobats then took to the floor forming human pyramids of five people, with a small child at the top. This was followed by the explosion into the night of a spectacular firework display.

Then came the highlight of the evening. The huge figure of a dragon covered in thousands of small lights was lifted off the ground by the acrobats and coiled around a pillar.

From here the acrobats manipulated the dragon's movements. A boy, mounted on a bamboo pole, taunted the dragon with a ball in a round wicker frame (a representation of the flaming pearl perhaps?). Sometimes the acrobats carrying this pole allowed it to fall backwards towards the ground in play, but stood it up again for the dragon to devour.

Content at having seen all this, the dragons enjoyed hitching a lift back to the temple on the portable shrine.

Once back they hid in the shadows of the grounds until all was silent. Thereupon they threw the sloughed skins away and regained their usual places resplendent in the "new" colours, where they could dream upon the things they had seen until the coming of the next new year.

The Land of Reality

2006-02-12T18:43:00.000-08:00

The bus jolted up the hill as the driver changed gears. She glanced at her watch. 2pm. Only twenty minutes more of what was seeming a longer than usual trip. Even if punctuated by a successfully completed Sudoku ( medium) and the distraction of one swaying passenger. Either tipsy or verging on the possibility of a psychosis. She had gone to town the previous day to watch the dragon boat races and join in the Lantern Festival. Somehow that had seemed only a faint echo of the Chinese New Year at the top of the Faraway Tree, but nevertheless an affirmation of what sometimes seemed a dream. The Faraway Tree was indeed, faraway, and the characters a fading memory.

On past the pub. No takers.The trip had been fun to start with, but the novelty had worn off.
At the next stop an elderly man, struggling to retain his dignity faced with several steps onto the bus, climbed laboriously aboard, gripping the railing. He attempted to address the driver jovially, but was ignored. And sat opposite.

I looked at him and wondered what was going on behind those pale blue eyes and washed out features. Once strong. Too strong perhaps? He straightened his shoulders as if in a determined effort to gather himself and the fragments of his life visibly shedding each day. The undeniable evidence that his mobility and discernment and more importantly his sense of self forged over decades were under threat.

He caught my eye, but didn't smile. Instead glanced at the driver who was fearlessly speeding around a series of sharp bends, and grasped the rail in front to stop from falling into the
aisle. He winced at the effort and resigned himself to a further round of jolts as the driver narrowly avoided a collision with a suddenly braking truck.

He looked sad now. Regret perhaps that the prime of his life was past. Not that he was about to admit that to anyone! The years when he paraded down George St with his mates to celebrate hard won freedom and the fifty years of working for and identifying with the company he loved.
A company where he was boss cocky and where through admiration or sheer survival his word was law. King at home too as was the way back then. Expecting, and receiving the same obeiance he expected of his employees. And the same polished shoes as well. No moustaches. He glanced at his own shoes now. Polished.

A couple of good natured but long haired surfies boarded and one sat next to him. He visibly shrank from the contact. Could not appreciate the ready smile or the steadying hand. Caught my eye in a silent plea for protection in this alien world. One he had remained insulated from by circumstance and his own inclination. Was he frightened by it now, or protected by his disdain for it? Perhaps too by a latent arrogance that had recently been directed at anyone who disrupted his expectations and certitudes. Bluntness. But hidden beneath it all, a vulnerability. Shown only occasionally and which he would always vigorously deny.

The bus came to a final tired stop at the terminus by a beach of rolling Pacific breakers. The surfies clambered off, whooping their delight. The old man followed , so conscious of his comparison with their youthful vibrancy. I picked up the sweater he had left on the seat, and followed. And took his arm.
"Come on, Dad", I said.
"Let's go home".

Lantern Festival - New Colours

2006-02-10T22:43:00.000-08:00

The sights and sounds of Lantern Festival

colour, movement, light, to

welcome in the new.

The world was infused with

new enthusiasm, as the

old disappeared into the

shadows.

Lantern Festival

2006-02-10T12:49:00.000-08:00

Lantern Festival or Yuanxiao Jie is a traditional Chinese festival, which is fall on the 15th of the first month of the Chinese New Year. It is the last day of two week long Chinese New Year cerebration. People with their family will gather in the show place to enjoy the beautiful lanterns displayed by individuals or the local municipal. Kids will carry their own lanterns to participate in the showcase. Usually there is competition for the most beautiful lantern.This festival is also a Chinese Valentine's day that youngsters celebrate the festivals with their lovers in such beautiful and romantic evening. Lanterns are also displayed in other festivals such Mid-Autumn Festival. Lantern making has long history and there are a lot of romance stories told about lanterns and lovers related to this festival.

Popularly referred to as Chinese Valentine's Day, this festival marks the end of the Chinese New Year celebrations. Based on an old Chinese tradition, flower markets, restaurants, homes and parks are filled with colourful lanterns in traditional designs. During the festival, singles gather to play matchmaking games with the lanterns, to determine who will be their lover.

After the Lantern Festival the Land of Chinese New Year is moving on. When a land moves on there is a curious cold wind, the sun goes down and everything is cloaked in darkness. Make sure to reach the hole that leads back to the Faraway Tree before this happens.

When you return do tell us about your experiences at the Lantern Festival.

Meeting Jade Emperor - An Offering

2006-02-09T00:25:00.000-08:00

On meeting the Jade Emperor, with

all due respect, one who has everything,

an offering of a swamp cypress was made.

He loved the brand new cones,

and the colour, of course...
copyright Monika Roleff 2006.

Introducing Madam Butterfly

2006-02-07T07:59:00.000-08:00

The poem on her wing reads
I do not know rather I was then a man Dreaming I was a butterfly or rather I am a butterfly dreaming that I am a man.
close up of mask she is mounted on a copper butterfly colored with alcohol inks . the mask is painted with gold paint and I used sharpies for the details and wings.

Meeting the Jade Emperor

2006-02-07T02:59:00.000-08:00

The Yuhuang (Jade Emperor) is one of the main Gods in Taoism. Taoism and the ordinary people regard him as the ruler in the Heaven and the imperatorial God. Therefore, a fete on him is necessary.

It is said the lunar January 9 is the birthday of the Jade Emperor. According to the custom, a ceremony for celebration is to be held. The ordinary people will gather together to burn joss sticks. This is called the Yuhuang (Jade Emperor) Meeting. The Meeting is very grand. Because the Jade Emperor plays a very important role in the Heaven, a lot of other Gods accompany him.

JADE-EMPEROR: Supreme God of Chinese Folk Religion, the JADE-EMPEROR is Ruler of Heaven, Creator of the Universe, member of the SAN-QING, and Lord of the Imperial Court.

Starting at the bottom by creating the Universe, he helped YUAN-SHI-TIAN-ZONG bring order to the cosmos. Working his way to the top, he spent a billion aeons contemplating his Holy Navel before finally achieving a state of the most amazingly perfect Godliness.

Having achieved Illumination and Omnipotence, he became supreme Heavenly Ruler, and Emperor of the Universe. Even the human ruler of China was simply a manifestation of the JADE-EMPEROR. Earthly Emperors were given leave to rule by the MANDATE-OF-HEAVEN, provided they checked in every so often via a Jade PI-DISC.

His word is law and he rules all Heaven and Earth with a vast company of civil servants and bureaucrats at his beck and call. The CHENG-HUANG and TU-DI look after Earthly paperwork, and every year the ZAO-JUN file a report on your conduct for him to assess.

If that's not impressive enough, the JADE-EMPEROR found further fame when DAOism and Buddhism came into play and engulfed him in the utmost holiness. Not to mention the most amazingly complicated symbolism.

His list of official titles expanded in all directions. 'Most Venerable Jade Emperor Of The Heavenly Golden Palace'... 'Supremely High Emperor Of The Heavens, Holder Of Talismans, Container Of Perfection and Embodiment Of Dao'... and finally, 'Most Venerable And Highest Jade Emperor Of All-Embracing Sublime Spontaneous Existence Of The Heavenly Golden Palace'. We think that just about covers everything.

The only other deity to compare is the magnificent MONKEY, who arrogantly challenged his rule, caused havoc in Heaven and was finally persuaded to behave by being given a meaningless but magnificent-sounding official title. That's politics for you.

In fact, the JADE-EMPEROR is a master of winning without really doing anything. He knows all aspects of The Way (DAO) and its Principle of Least Action (Wu Wei), making Heaven's regime the ultimate example of a do-nothing policy. He can become almost flustered if anything actually happens.

Celebrate the birth of the Jade Emporer.

I have skipped Days three and four and Move to 5

2006-02-06T16:49:00.000-08:00

I read that Day 5 in the Year of the Dog says.
" Families stay at home and Welcome the God of Wealth
into the home
Visiting another persons home on this day is considered very unlucky
for the visitor and the host"
**************

SO THIS IS A TRUE STORY
**************
Yesterday 6th Feb 2006 it was ,a Monday it be
I decided to mow the lawn
the grass was long ,too long
Mower repaired and ready to start
Front lawn first....then back yard next

Jessie Dog sitting on next doors' lawn
mower running well ,phone rang I went to pick it up from the porch
Too late ...onto answering machine it went
I finished the lawn,
I angled the mower down the small slope
to do the outside nature strip in the street

She had gone ,she had disappeared
I went inside,out the back,behind the sheds,down the street,looked over to the park
Not a sign of her....Jessie was missing...
Now deaf ,she could not hear me or the mower
I did panic ,I admit, that I was shaking

Once before only she had done this....
Crossed a very busy mad speeding road near her home
God forbid I thought ...turning off the mower I moved quickly
Up to the corner....just in time to see my friend Angie crossing
over the road with Jessie in tow.
Not only visiting anothers home was bad luck
Crossing this speed track was more than bad luck
it could be a death sentence
She couldn't tell me why she did it
I was so angry and relieved at the same time.

I needed more than a cup of tea
I didn,t smack her,my fault for not watching her more carefully
JUST THEN.....
My neighbour Chris on his day off drove his 4x4 in, smiling broadly
"Been to collect my winnings" he said
What winnings ?said Angie
My Tattslotto ( Australian lottery) mostly in Victoria
said he...
"$2400"....."Big win" he said....all in cash ,he showed us.

I could not even congratulate him,a smile wouldn't come
I was
only in relief mode
Perspiring ,shaking and feeling worn out.
Good on you I said
" You don't seem surprised" said Chris

Angela laughed,looked at me
as he told us of his GREAT news
My news was of another kind
as I told him mine and Jessie's
story.
Chris has never had a dog,
emotions like this sound foreign to him
His win....was not my win

I thought of the day's events
and relate them to a day on the
Chinese New Year celebrations
a coincidence, a story of a dog
a dog that should not have visited friends
it could have been very unlucky....
Welcoming the God of Wealth ,not to my home
but next door at my neighbours
Now to the Host that Jessie Dog visited
I have not asked them as of this morning
If they have experienced any bad luck
I shall await them visiting me when a cuppa
this afternoon is the nice part of the day.

I finish off my story as the time
nears 12.30 ,time for a cuppa
Jessie lies under my feet
scratching ,licking her paws
The noise is deafening
I don't mind at all .....

Lois (Muse of the Sea) 7.2.06

Fire dog,hidden dragon

2006-02-06T02:40:00.000-08:00

A pair of dogs dance at Brisbane's Chinatown

I was born in the Year of the Dog – the Sleeping Wood Dog, to be astrologically precise, which is why you should never wake me.

Well, this is my year and the fire means I am going to be awake for all of it, so what better time to visit a land where Chinese New Year is always celebrated? I love Chinese New Year. My youngest daughter was clearly an Asian princess in her previous life. She was born with a predilection for all things Chinese, Japanese and Asian in general – she loves the food, the art and the music. She insisted on being taken to Sydney every year for the Chinese New Year celebrations, (we go to Brisbane now) and she insists on coming with me now. This is her land, Kathy says, and I’d better keep a close eye on her in case she doesn’t come back.

It’s even more exciting than all those times we set out for Sydney or Brisbane Chinatown together. Kathy wears her lovely pink Chinese jacket embroidered with cherry blossom that I got her for Christmas. I wear my green embroidered jacket with the side slits. She shows me how to style my hair with chopsticks, which I always say will come in handy at lunchtime. Kathy says `eeewwww’, as she always does.

Going up the Faraway Tree is slow because she wants to stop and marvel at everything. She adores fairies and can’t wait to get to Silky’s house. When we do there is a lovely surprise – the tree is growing cherry blossom and cherries at the same time. Amazing! Kathy is enchanted and picks a sprig of cherry blossom for her hair. The fruit is delicious, but the Land of Chinese New Year calls – already we can hear the sound of drums and cymbals drifting down through the branches.

The land of Chinese New Year is like the biggest Chinatown we have ever seen. An avenue stretches out before us, with cherry blossom trees growing on either side. The street is lined with gorgeous shops, market stalls and noodle stalls, and Kathy practically does handstands in her excitement. She is a grown up girl of nearly 19 now, yet she still gets excited as a child on Chinese New Year.

There is a procession coming down the street and we stop to watch with the crowd as it draws near. There’s a dancing red dog in the lead, trailing filmy gauzy ribbons of flame.

``Are you born in the year of the Dog?” People ask each other. ``Touch the Red Fire Dog – it’s lucky.”

Kathy manhandles me down to the front of the crowd with the other Dog people and our hands reach out to pat the Red Fire Dog as it dances close to us. As I look into its face, expecting to see human eyes, I see strange red and gold eyes peeping out at me. The dog licks my hand with a gauzy ribbon, and it feels like a real flame. I draw my hand back in surprise – is there a hidden dragon inside the Red Fire Dog? But of course there is – how would it get its fire otherwise?

The Red Fire Dog dances away and the crowd scatters. There is so much to see and do – the market stalls have drawn Kathy’s attention, and I follow her in search of treasure. We are in Heaven, surrounded by beautiful things. I find a whole stall with hand made and painted Chinese papers and spend ages making a selection. Already in my mind’s eye I can see the way I will use them in collage, and to make origami boxes.

Laden with bags, we visit the Chinese Gardens for a cup of Oolong tea and moon cakes. This was always our favourite treat in Sydney, but these Chinese Gardens are even bigger and better. The gardens cover a vast area, and reach to snow capped mountains in the distance. We find a tree house near a lake surrounded by willows, and tea is brought to us in a stone tea pot with little clay cups and a plate of moon cakes. Just as we did in the Chinese Gardens back home, we pour out our tea and sip it blissfully, letting the leaves settle at the bottom. Kathy shows me her cup – a star of happiness. I look in mine and see the figure of a dog – yes, this is going to be a good dog year for me.

An old lady has been watching us from her seat on a low stone wall near the lake. Now she gets up and comes over to our table, politely asking if she can sit down.

Of course, we want her company – she is wonderful, with a kind, seamed face, and tiny wrinkled hands. She nods approvingly at Kathy’s cup. Her eyes sparkle like little chips of polished ebony.

``You will always know happiness,” she says. ``For you give more happiness than you expect to receive and take joy in simple things.”

Then she takes my cup and turns it this way and that.

``A bit of fire will do your lazy dog a lot of good,” she laughs. ``There is a dragon hiding in you, and it is filled with creative spirit. I see friends helping you to unleash it. To create beauty and bring happiness is the finest ambition of all, and you can be proud that your daughter has chosen this path – follow it yourself and you will find inner peace, as she has.”

Night is falling and all over the Land of Chinese New Year, lanterns are lighting up the trees – it sparkles like a jewel. The old lady leans over and kisses my cheek and Kathy’s, and then she is gone.

Chinese Fan

2006-02-05T03:09:00.000-08:00

Chinese Zodiac Items

2006-02-04T11:53:00.000-08:00

I was purusing this blog just now, and I came across a link in the AdSense column that interested me, and it led me to this site: http://www.chinese-zodiac-symbols.com/zodiac-animals.html. It's a site that sells charms and what notnot dealing with the 12 animals of the Chinese zodiac. You can even try translating your name into Chinese. The prices are quite reasonable I think.

A Clean Creative House

2006-02-03T16:18:00.000-08:00

Thirteenth installment of the Faraway Tree adventure.

"No wonder her Muse refused to visit! Did you see how smoky her creative house was?" demanded one elf as the team the secretary of the Creative Dusting Service had sent out hours earlier returned to the company offices finally.

"I bet you she's burnt the midnight oil one too many times, or has been trying to crank out as many creative works as she can!" he concluded darkly. "Poor Zoë! She left because she was overworked! There should be a union for Muses."

"And all that dust!" said a second elf with distaste, clearly entertaining visions of a very thick layer of dust and grime coating every conceivable surface. She shuddered. "I couldn't believe she's never cleaned her house before!"

"Not to mention the cobwebs and burned-out bulbs in the lamps," added a third elf.

"Or the clutter and mess everywhere!" chimed in a fourth. "Thank goodness we're magical and relatively small, or it would have taken us days to just organize her place! Let alone clean it!"

"She sure left it till the last minute, hoping we could have it done so she could decorate for the Chinese New Year," noted a fifth.

The team plunked their buckets loaded with cleaners, rags and other supplies, along with their mops and brooms down on the floor or against the reception room's wall. Tired and worn out they collapsed into the chairs or onto the sofa arranged in a way that allowed for easy conversation amongst clients or elves waiting for job interviews.

The reception area was small by most business standards--it was a cleaning service, after all, where its employees traveled to clients' creative homes, so there was no need for a bigger waiting area. The walls were painted a nice harvest peach, and along the wall to the right of the door (frosted with the company's logo) hung three watercolor land or seascapes. Area rugs in peach, rust, green and a sea green covered the light wood paneled floor. Several feet from the conversational grouping was the reception desk with a counter made of the same light wood as the floor. A closed door marked "Private" was two feet to the right from the reception counter. This, of course, led to the inner office and the offices of the owner and business manager.

"I don't think she had ever realized she has a creative house," mused the third elf. "Not many humans are aware they have them and need to keep them clean. She was, after all, quite surprised that our company actually exists and isn't merely a gimmick."

As he reminded his comrades of this the door used by employees only opened and out walked Cornelius Pinchhammer, the owner of Creative Dusting Service. He was a round, stout little man, barely over five feet tall, with shrewd denim blue eyes, a balding pate of graying red hair and a thick, bushy handlebar moustache. His pointy ears and shortness in stature were the only elf-like things about him, for he wore a gray pinstripe business suit (the jacket of which he'd doffed earlier in the day). His matching vest was undone, as were the first three buttons of his pink dress shirt, and he'd rolled his sleeves up a bit. The knot of his gray silk tie had also been loosened sometime earlier in the afternoon and the tie hung slightly askew around his thick, fleshy neck.

Taking in the sight of his exhausted, dirty crew and then glancing at his original Timeline wristwatch, Cornelius said in his bass voice, "A firt-timer huh?"

"Yeah boss," said the third elf, sitting up straighter in his chair, his feet not quite touching the floor anymore. "It was something! Not quite as bad as we've had in the past, but still a heavy-duty job. And it was some time before she believed we weren't an hallucination."

"It was horrid!" asserted the second elf, leaning forward and nodding her small head forcefully, her flame-red curls bouncing energetically, punctuating that last word.

"Now, now, Hildy," Cornelius soothed. "It's over and done with, and hopefully she's the kind of human who will keep her creative house clean?" At this he looked inquiringly at the third elf, the leader of this particular cleaning team.

"I think she's better than some humans when it comes to housekeeping, but she'll need our services from time to time." he answered, thinking of the projects in various stages of completion around the house and the unecessary clutter their newest client had had.

"So we have a new client... Good, good!" Cornelius smiled broadly, looking well pleased. "You guys--and gal--have earned a vacation. Elvis, take your team anywhere you wanna go; you have a week off," he said magnaminously.

"Thanks boss!" Elvis and his team said gratefully, tiredly getting up from their chairs and the sofa they'd occupied to stow away their buckets and supplies in the supply closet near the business manager's office before filing out of the cleaning service's headquarers.
*******"Holy cow!" I muttered to myself over and over as I stood in shock in the middle of the room looking about me and blinking. "Holy cow, holy cow, holy cow..."

There are actually real elves. Real elves who creatively clean actual creative houses! And I have one! A creative house that was so embarrassingly filthy and disorganized I wanted to crawl into a tiny, tiny hole and disappear once I got over thinking I'd finally gone 'round the bend and was imagining the five short creatures with pointy ears in royal purple coveralls. They had varying expressions crossing their faces, horror, dispair, disbelief and resignation.

The leader was called Elvis and he spent some time trying to calm me down, trying to help me see I wasn't really hallucinating. It took some doing. "After all," he pointed out, "you did call the company for us to come clean this place. You must believe--at least a little--in the unexplainable, in magic, in elves."

I just blinked, swallowed, nodded and smiled weakly at him. Sighing, yet giving me a commiserating look, he said bracingly, "Not very many people believe we're out in the world still. They think we only exist in fairy stories. You're actually handling this rather well." And with that he joined his coworkers and started cleaning a house I never knew I had.

It looks like an open-faced three-storey dollhouse that could sit on one side of a desk. A replica of a Victorian house painted a sunny yellow with azure blue shutters, I never realized I had it before till the elven leader opened my closet door and seemingly pulled it down (out of thin air) from a shelf.

Already in a state of consternation and bewilderment at their appearance, I asked dumbly, "What is that? Where did it come from?"

"It's your creative house," Elvis informed me as he set it on one side of my desk.

There was a gasp of dismay and horror and a groan as he stepped back. Every tiny room was smoky, cluttered, dark, dusty and grimy, and decorated with milky cobwebs. My jaw dropped open. I had a creative house--and it looked like this? Hot embarrassment infused my body, coursing through my veins and staining my skin pink.

"Let's get to work," Elvis suggested, rubbing his finger under his nose twice. On the last pass his crew shrunk and somehow appeared in the dollhouse's dirty, neglected kitchen.

They set to work. Though they were obviously magical, it still took them some time before they had the house spotless and organized and decluttered. They left very late, very tired and grungy looking. As payment I was to create some work (either a graphic or a written piece) as a thank you they could hang or read and enjoy. I was also to tell other creative people about their unique service.

I was now ready to decorate for the Chinese New Year.
********

Wall decorations
Couplet poem: "May you be blessed with peace and safety in all four seasons."

Sacred Bamboo

2006-02-02T23:14:00.000-08:00

Everybody's Birthday Today

2006-02-02T18:07:00.000-08:00

It is Everybody's Birthday. We are all officially one year older.
May the birthday celebrations begin
Celebrate in creative ways
Buy yourself some flowers
Have an artist day out
Buy yourself a present
Have a special lunch
Do something with a friend.
Post and share how you celebrated Everybody's Birthday

Chinese New Year Altered Book

2006-02-02T16:46:00.000-08:00

These are some of the pages from my Chinese New Year altered book project. I have a a new gallery at Picture Trail where you can see what I have done so far.

Chinese Artifact

2006-01-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

A teapot shaped like a Lotus Root -- red clay

Chinese Red and Dogs

2006-01-30T22:01:00.000-08:00

At the beginning of the year of the dog

2006-01-30T16:53:00.000-08:00

Take me
to a far country
up the great river
into the ancient places

Take me
to a strong people
that I may learn the art
of survival

Teach me
to travel without luggage
so that I may learn a language
that lives for five thousand years
and still can be heard

A Chinese Alley

2006-01-30T07:59:00.000-08:00

While relaxing on board the junk, on my way to the Isle of Ancestors, I thought about a place I visited so long ago. A place and a picture that is etched in my memory.

A Chinese Alley

While reflecting on this Chinese New Year, the Year of the Dog, I recall, when living in San Francisco, how I used to prowl around Chinatown with a camera. Being, at that time, far less security conscious than I am now, I would seek out the alleys and odd corners—places that did not attract the tourists.

I did not see a soul that evening as I entered and prowled an alley where, when I stopped to listen, voices speaking in Chinese could be heard through open doors. I was a predator … my prey: images of a culture—a foreign culture embedded within this beautiful American city, in which I lived at the time.

I remember one image, one evening in particular. I entered an alley, one that would be typically thought of as a perfect setting for Tong War activity. Mind you, this was in the mid nineteen fifties, a long time ago. The blackened, uneven brick walls of buildings towered on each side, coming together at the top to keep the sunlight or moonlight at bay. A faded wooden sign hung over one of the doors—a message to those who could read the language. I could not understand its message, but I could appreciate it because of the artistry, the design of the Chinese written language.

Later, at home, when I processed the image in black and white, I was delighted to see that I had captured the essence of the place. It was a picture I treasured and kept safely for many, many years. Unfortunately, in a recent move, a batch of my pictures disappeared, my Chinese Alley image among them. I cannot go back and recapture what I saw that evening, because even if I could physically do so, I would consider it foolhardy. Our living in such a security minded world has, in my personal opinion, strangulated our desire for small adventures as it has our larger ones. Even if I summoned up the courage to enter that alley again, I don’t believe I could ever recapture the ambience of place that I did that evening so long ago.

Looking back from this place in time, I can, even without the picture in front of me, transport myself back to that timeless alley and experience again, all its sounds and smells. It is indeed a flicker of the magic lantern of my life—a life made up of thousands upon thousands of fleeting flickers that are stored away in the filing cabinet of my mind.

I wish you all a Happy and Prosperous Chinese Year of the Dog.

Coincidentally, I saw last evening on the news where they are teaching childen to speak and to write Chinese. This is happening in some of our schools. I hope more will take it up. The children seem to be delighted and are accepting the challenges of the language with enthusiasm. What better way to bring East and West together. I envy their opportunity.

Vi
January 28, 2006

2006-01-30T06:22:00.000-08:00

Im not sure this fits in here if it doesn't please delete it
when I heard Chinise New year I thought of Dragons and masks
so for now I am going to post a mask i created this weekend

Dusty

2006-01-30T05:20:00.000-08:00

This directed Spring Cleaning
has us playing with attic dust --

but I wonder ...

...................................................

Return to Dust

"and to dust ye shall return"
is never a dire prediction,
nor religious distinction
between one's body and spirit,
but a normative claim on creation.

Aye -- that noisome detritus --
accumulation of drifting motes
of fibers, skin and gristed earth
are proof that all is well -- alive;
the universe is of change, after all.

The same is true of thought, perhaps --
those nubile ideas and conceptions
which tumble about in mind and soul,
with jagged edge and random form
that scarcely fit in ordered minds.

These need be polished and cleaved
through interaction with others --
lubricated by social mores,
buffed by cherish and compassion
and chipped away by adversity.

But what then of the swirling dust?
Should it be ignored -- swept away,
or gathered as nurturing compost
to fill in cracks of loneliness
and cushion the shock of re-birthing.

I AM ON MY WAY

2006-01-30T05:09:00.000-08:00

I am not sure if I am late or early
I have just arrived by moonlight,
I look along the long jetty
where many Junks are birthed

The one I must travel on
has three sails
Brown or dark maroon in colour
Sails hand made with bamboo struts
Frail looking, but I presume we will travel
on seas that are calm

Especially to the Island of Ancestors
Where all is peaceful ,quiet and serene.
Meting with one who has gone before
One who has been to me
a person not easily forgotten.

Others are already on board
mostly females,except one in deep conversation
with others clustered around him
I knew who it was...Faucon,never one to
give up a trip like this ,reading poetry no doubt.

As the moon lit up the night sky
I only noticed how gentle the waves were
At the helm was our well known
Ferry Woman (The greatest woman navigator)

I think of past navigators ,written about
through history ...I don't remember a woman among them
But I could be enlightened by a history buff
I see a light, the moon was shining over the apple trees.
We all alight ,now on terra firma,
Some breathe gratefully ,not liking the sea
Me I love it, it is in my blood.

We all walk through a rock doorway ,torches lighting our way
No one there to tell us which way to go, but......
It seems a well worn path ,others have been this way,
many a foot has trodden thistrack on their journey,to meet
someone from the past ,someone who knows them and has meaning in their life
someone who they wan't to meet again,someone who will be glad
to meet with one from the other side
The side that still lives ,the side that has stories to tell.

As I walk with other travellers
down this lit passageway
A red glow ,although faint,seems to mark
the end of our journey
We will go our separate ways
Each to his own ..to...
meet that special one.
One who will not be surprised
to see us
They have the knowledge ,they took with them
on their last journey
They know all,see all and remember all
I am looking foward to meeting
with the one who went suddenly some 30 years ago
come this December 21st 2006

He will have much to advise me on
I must not let politics take over the conversation
His memories and beliefs were those of an optomist
Mine are ones of pessimism.
I don't wan't to argue
I want to hold him tight
Even though he was not a demonstraive man
Except with his grandchildren .

We will face all this when we meet

Lois (Muse of the Sea) 30.1.06

A NEW JOURNEY BEGINS

2006-01-30T04:30:00.000-08:00

I hear tell
it is the Chinese New Year

I hear tell it is
The Year of the Dog,
A Fire Red Dog

Now unsure of what this means
I look to other's writings,
information is what I need

I could find rabbits
a creative dusting service
A man telling me that to touch the mind
is a form of love.

I could find creative spirits
making lanterns,collages,food delacies
Then up popped a story
of The Rat,The cat,The Tiger,
the Horse and on and on
Twelve in all
History tells us.

So now I know that it was
ordained (so to say)
by the Jade Emperor,who invited
all the animals to his
party.

And that is how the special
years on the Chinese Calendar
came to be
Because he promised them so

Oh if only the world adhered
to promises made,
We would as one with the animals
in a place of tranquilty
living together in harmony

Oh such Joy
or just a dream
Or perhaps a mirage

Lois (Muse of the Sea) 30.1.06

A Tale from the Isle of Ancestors - Chinese "Gypsies"

2006-01-29T15:48:00.000-08:00

The Hakka are called the Gypsies of China because they are migratory tribes, now scattered all over Asia and the rest of the world. Many Chinese scholars believe them to be descendents of the Han people who fled the Mongols during the Yuan dynasty.

The name Hakka means `sojourner’, and among the traits they have in common with European and Middle eastern Gypies are their fierce pride and strong belief in family.
In the 19th Century, the Hakka started to flee persecution in China and spread over the world. Hakka travelled as far as the USA and Australia where they continued to follow their own unique culture.

The women of Hakka were never subjected to restrictive Chinese customs such as foot-binding. The women were strong and self sufficient, able to work and fight along the men.

The Hakka did not live in mobile dwellings – they settled in the areas they moved to and built circular mud brick fort houses with three foot thick walls to protect themselves against the locals, who were often hostile to the sojourners. Each house would hold around 20 families, with a courtyard in the centre where they kept their livestock. The Hakka, a hard working people, built complex drainage systems so that the entire fort could be closed off and the families remain self sufficient when under siege.

The Hakka keenly observe Chinese New Year, and other festivals, practice ancestor worship, and love to sing their own complex folk songs. Song is very important to the Hakka, and they have a variety of styles of songs and singing for every ocassion. They have special dishes for Chinese New Year such as Fried Pork with fermented bean curd. In this two stage dish, the pork is first marinated, then deep fried. Then it is stewed with wild mushrooms. Like their songs, Hakka recipes are very complex.

Today, the widespread Hakka are in danger of losing their unique culture, so a website has been launched to help preserve Hakka customs and lore. The China based Hakka welcome tourists to their roundhouse villages such as Chu Xi, where 200 inhabitants all share the same surname.
One of their most popular crafts is paper umbrella that they make from oiled paper and bamboo. These are highly prized by tourists as local craftsmen can only make two a day.

The Lion Dance

2006-01-29T10:35:00.000-08:00

It is Chinese New Year. The Year of the Dog. Students at my school get ready for their “Multicultural Show”. Today there are many different Asian groups performing. A Vietnamese fan dance. A Hmong dance. Pilipino jumping dance with the bamboo poles. And to start and finish it off is our school’s version of the Lion Dance. I hear the drums and cymbals. Bang! The lion dances proudly. Happy New Year! Gung hay fat choy!

I remember my first Chinese New Year Lion Dance. I was very small and it was very loud. The firecrackers scared me and the larger-than-life lion heads petrified me. We had gone to Chinatown with my aunt, uncle and cousins to see our first lion dance. I think I cried most of the time.

Several years later when I was in high school my friend Marilyn invited me to go with her and her family to Chinatown for the New Year’s celebrations and Lion Dance. Her family was Cantonese but welcomed me warmly to their celebration.

Chinatown was bustling with people. Old Chinese grandmothers scurrying to buy the last vegetable for their dinner. Tourists roaming the shops looking for bargains. Families wandering up and down Grant Avenue greeting friends and showing off their children. I remember we went first to the Chinese bakery my friend’s family owned and picked up a few more relatives. Then we wound around to a little side street to a restaurant probably owned by a family friend. Upstairs to the banquet hall. Large round tables with the biggest lazy susan’s I had ever seen. We sat as dish upon dish was brought to the table. Steam poured out from soups, noodles, meat and vegetable dishes, rice, and countless items I had never tasted.

We ate for what seemed like hours, loud banter and hushed murmurs. Chopsticks waving in the air to make a point. Babies crying and dishes dropping all added to the cacophony. But it was good then, warm and friendly, and I was having a ball.

Later we ventured outside among the crowds and squeezed into place to watch the famous Chinatown Lion Dancers. First we heard firecrackers, then drums and cymbals. Soon sparklers and lanterns came into view as the dancers wound their way amongst the crowd. Bang! The head reared up as the dancers held it high. Bang! Pop! The lion snaked along the street. More firecrackers and music seemed to come from all directions. The crisp night lit up with the celebration. The crowd cheered the dancers on as they gyrated to the ever changing music. Bang! Pop! We watched the procession as it wound down the street. Soon the dancers got swallowed up by the crowd and we only heard the drums and cymbals. Bang! A last firecracker near us exploded. People cheered as they wandered off to continue their Chinatown adventure. Happy New Year! Gung hay fat choy!