Close Meditations of a Visual Kind

( From a Quieter Time )

Castlewood is the name of the house, built early in the 20th century in Dunedin, New Zealand. The original owner was a lawyer; after his death the home went through several incarnations including a home for troubled youth. When we visited there, Peter and Donna ran the place as a Bed & Breakfast. Marvelous place, wonderful visit, excellent people. They've since retired from the B&B business.

The filename on the scan is 20010910_120_2-05: Date, Type Film, Roll# & Frame. So 10 Sept, 120 film, 2nd roll, 5th frame. I'd kept a notebook during the trip listing notes about exposure and actual date/time for each frame. That notebook is hiding somewhere around here. I remember clearly that the date is for when I loaded the roll into the camera; often rolls were finished the day after. This is the case with this photograph, made on the morning of 11 September, '01.

Keep in mind the International Date Line; over in New York City the date when this photo was made was still 10 September. So everything I photographed on 9/11, for us, is a day before the 'Day the Earth Stood Still'. (The quotes reference a 'Writer's Block' prompt over on LJ.)

Peter, our host, also a painter walked up the stairs while I made a series of photographs of the landing window. He recognised the twin-lens format camera for what it is and we started talking art and media and techniques. He invited me into one of their private rooms to photograph another stained-glass window, and later during our stay I photographed another one, downstairs in the Butler's Pantry and the Study (also used as the Breakfast Room during the B&B incarnation of the house). Then Herself and I set out to explore Dunedin, and take a scenic train ride up the Taieri Gorge.

Memories of the date now known as 9/11 are, for me, always a bit... blurred, not confused, firm, and still blurred by that whole thing involving the International Date Line. Our room in Castlewood faced east, overlooking Otago Bay. I woke before the alarm went off the next morning (yes, even on our holiday we set the alarm... things to do, places to see! Set for a reasonable hour, though, not before the crack of dawn), and picked up the camera to photograph the sunrise over the bay and city. We learned about what happened when the radio alarm came on - and most of what happened did occur after midnight, our local time, so on 12 September for us. Blurred into two days by an international convention for when does the date change, anyway?

It's a jumble, then, my memories of where I was, what I did. Which day is the day? Which memories? The day we woke up gradually, enjoyed breakfast, then photographed a few interior features of a Tudor-style/Craftsman-style house before walking about and seeing some interesting scenery? The evening of the most excellent meal in an outstanding restaurant named A Cow Called Berta? The morning after that day and evening, also waking gradually and enjoying a sunrise? Later that same morning, watching the events on the telly which Peter brought down to the Breakfast room? Because in all the public rooms of the house (including the guest rooms) there were no televisions, only their own personal one in their private rooms. Their philosophy as hosts at a B&B stated that while on holiday, their guests should be able to avoid any of the distractions of the work-a-day world.

Except, this one. This one hammered and echoed and rebounded around and around and around the world, no matter ones viewpoint, that it was about time, that it was the most horrible thing ever. So this date is blurred and coloured by the light streaming in through stained glass windows made around 1912, windows which tinted the view of history through two World Wars and a dozen other wars between and about, windows which now are a part of my life.

It is now June 7. Yesterday, a goodly number of people from many different places, including some who were actively involved in the incident, commemorated the 65th anniversary of one of those events which is known, going into it, will be remembered in History regardless of the outcome.

And most Saturdays recently, I've been not getting on-line. Might be deliberate, might not; haven't thought about that much. Still, no post from me yesterday about the date. And then, this morning while enjoying our oh so fabulous (NOT) old, rural North Central Baja Jorja telephone system dial-up connection, I see that a ton of friends posted a lot of photos yesterday, one means, manner, or other.

Damn, I love dial-up.

I also ran across one post where someone enjoyed the rising of the full moon. On several levels this really appealed to me. One of those levels is I enjoyed the same thing, immensely.

Herself and I went over to HorseRena to help a friend celebrate the graduation from High School of her son. Bit party, everyone had a great time. Barbecue meats for those that ingest such, potato salad, macaroni salad, excellent cole slaw, fresh fruits, cheeses, and Graduation Cake. Oh, and the Chocolate Fountain. ::nods::

Volleyball setups, and Slip'n'Slide which some of those folk take very, very seriously. One of the Graduates (two celebrations in one, they are or were classmates and friends and both familys are active in Herself's SCA group there) is touted as the Champion of this event, fairly commonly getting 23 metre/75 foot slides. So they made a 30 metre/100 foot slide...

And as it got dark, set up one of these new marketed free-standing 'firepits', where one builds the fire in a bronze or copper basin on a stand...

And I sat and watched the moon rise. Didn't bring a tripod, did bring the Point & Shoot camera, and made some photographs of the moon behind clouds. So did a young lady there, and she's been very politely asking me lots of questions about photography to learn more. She's some education in art overall, drawing and painting, now stretching into photography. Quite good, too. She was smart enough to bring a tripod for her Point & Shoot, eh?

Here's the thing, and why it's related to the Day. That big event, 65 years ago? One of the primary conditions the planners thereof, and the same considerations those who planned to defend against the previous planners thereof took into account, is the Full Moon. Dwight Eisenhower and the Allied command staff wanted and needed a night of low tide and full moon for the Invasion of Europe. The Germans figured the Allies would go for a night of full moon, but high tide. And so coupled with other things which the Allies did to help discombobulate the Germans, the confusion worked and the Germans experienced much surprise both about the when and where of D-Day.

I know someone, personally, who lived through being present there on Omaha Beach, on D-Day. Don't know how much longer he's got on this mortal coil. I do know him, and I know how events on that day and shortly after shaped his future life and professional career.

And I thought about him, watching that moon rise. And about the 10,000 plus others who went ashore or parachuted or glided into battle that day who did not live through the experience. And I thought about the numbers who waited for those people to come, and resisted them, and did not live through the experience. Who found the end of their days on this mortal coil there, then, in Normandy, France.

On the morning of Wednesday, June 7 with a beachhead established the outcome, while much less in doubt, remained undetermined and fiercely contested. Today we know the outcome. Today, there in Normandy, people who did live through the experience and from both sides stand on that hallowed ground to remember, and to heal old wounds.

To Absent Friends.

Might not seem strange to hear I watched a commercial on the Tube yesterday; might not seem so even if I mention we've been watching things a lot more recorded, recently. So zip and zoom through the commercials when they come up, maybe only stopping if one particularly catches our attention.

Isn't the case, this time.

Couldn't even tell you what we were watching now; something to occupy some time, really, winding down after working on the Ranch most of the day. Getting a bit red on the arms and neck, catching up but never surpassing all the things which need doing when one owns their own home, their own ranch. Winding it down. Thinking about something in particular, not even related to all that work.

The commercial was for Outback Restaurants. And I just stopped my mental processing at that, thinking how very, very Yank a perception of Australia is that particular restaurant franchise. How... stereotypical.

You see... or maybe you don't. The Aussies & Kiwis who wander through here, y'all will see. Not so sure about the Yanks, though maybe. Probably the Canucks will. Beyond that... I'm not so sure.

( You see, yesterday was ANZAC Day. )

No.

Just, no.

It isn't much. No music, no lone bugler playing 'Last Post'. Was just Houdini & I, starting our Saturday looking east over the pasture through morning mist. Because we Yanks are not the only people, we've never been the only people who've 'given that last full measure of devotion.'

Lest we forget.

Today some folks Down Under celebrate Australia Day, so it is a holiday for maybe close to a half dozen of my FList. Now, there is (as there is also with several US Holidays) some controversy about this Down Under, and not all of Down Under is Oz, either. So, not everybody celebrates.

Still...

Happy Australia Day.

I suppose I could say I'm going to watch Mad Max. Not Mad Max 2, though.

Watch out for low-flying aircraft today.

I say that with tongue in cheek. Actually, it is a rather somber, serious recollection for this morning.

Yesterday was St. Crispin's Day. This means it is also the anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt. I often post something on this day, just because. However, yesterday I never came on line, what with different things happening about teh Ranch and needing done.

( So, shortly after St. Crispin's Day, this was written... )

Do a search on Wikipedia using 'Agincourt' for references, if you're interested. You'll get a disambiguation page, as there's a lot of things referencing Agincourt, and this will be the third link.

I've finally gotten around to doing that taste in art quiz meme. Without posting much more, as in what art piece showed, here's the result:

Your result for What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test ...
Balanced, Secure, and Realistic.

25 Impressionist, 12 Islamic, 20 Ukiyo-e, -24 Cubist, -34 Abstract and 9 Renaissance!

( And the Down & Dirty )

Right. Interesting. There are things in this I agree with, and things I don't. Sooner than half-way into it I knew it would list "Impressionistic" based on what they were offering for comparison and what I like. I'm not surprised that Ukiyo-e rated as high as it did, I'm a little surprised that Abstract rated as low as it did. This may be because I've got a different idea about what constitutes Abstract than the quiz maker does. Dunno. Cubist got a negative rating as well, which is interesting as there are some cubist-inspired ideas floating about in my head just now...

And Flickr Stats apparently take Sunday off. I went to check on those from curiosity, and while it shows the graph of yesterday's hits (Flickr Stats always show yesterday's activity), today's page also said there is no activity for October 26. Which is, of course, today (checks datestamp on this entry again... yup, October 26 it is). o_O?

Somewhen right close to now on the clock, because where I was on this day, that year, I woke up nigh on to 05:30 and watched the sun rise over Otago Bay in the hills of Dunedin, and it's right on about quarter after five in the morning there now. Only, because I'm talking about Dunedin NZ not Dunedin, Scotland or Dunedin, Florida, the date was also September 12. A quiet morning, peaceful, with a beautiful sunrise.

I photographed that sunrise.

I've been moaning and groaning at myself that I need to post more of my work, that there's no time because other things come up and shove aside the time for art and photography.

In another place I commented that I remember certain names, the names of the five people who died in this town when another someone went on a bit of a spree. I refuse to state that name.

I don't know all their names, the people who I learned, on that peaceful sunny morning on September 12 in Dunedin, New Zealand when the alarm radio came on, had died halfway around the world in the city of New York, on the fields of Pennsylvania, and on the banks of a river in Virgina. There are many people who know some of the names because they are related to them, friends with them, worked with them. Probably there are even some who know all the thousands of names. Someone, somewhere, may even know the thousands on thousands of names of those who died in the seven years subsequent to that day... are still dying. Because of that act.

And right about now is when I learned about it.