Tales from the Island of Serendip 4 4

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The Wanderer

 

Upon a mountain height, far from the sea,

I found a shell,

And to my listening ear the lonely thing

Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing,

Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell.

 

 

How came the shell upon that mountain height?

Ah, who can say

Whether there dropped by some too careless hand,

Or whether there cast when Ocean swept the Land,

Ere the Eternal had ordained the Day?

 

Strange, was it not? Far from its native deep,

One song it sang,

Sang of the awful mysteries of the tide,

Sang of the misty sea, profound and wide,

Ever with echoes of the ocean rang.

 

 

And as the shell upon the mountain height

Sings of the sea,

So do I ever, leagues and leagues away,

So do I ever, wandering where I may,

Sing, O my home! sing, O my home! of thee.

Eugene Field 1883

[Flex Mentallo]

Tales from the Island of Serendip

 

Life is a constant inquiry

into the whys and wherefores of existence.

Look not upon the ephemeral as real;

Barter not the substance for the shadow.

 

Neitsche - Also Sprach Zarathustra

 

When Parsifal slew a swan in the forest perhaps he foolishly thought he was being heroic. Through long journeys and many sufferings, he achieved enlightenment, eventually realizing that true heroism is sacrifice; and that it is only through compassion that we can ultimately be transformed, and so transform the world.

 

As for me, I am still slaying swans.

 

But there is a wisdom of sorts in serendipity - the percipience to connect seemingly disconnected events.

 

Tales from the Island of Serendip has been an unpredictable journey through a labyrinth where I discovered minotaurs and aliens lurk. Yet to the remnants of nomadic civilizations that still survive on the margins of our conquest, it is we who are the aliens. And in what we think of as extraterrestrial biological entities, more than likely we encounter our own abiding alienation.

 

For our 'reality' - even our physics - is an artificial construct. We see the first iterations of our struggle to find meaning in our lives and deaths in the flower burials of the neanderthals. We see our ephemeral nature reflected in the deaths of uncounted civilizations. We tell ourselves that our fate is different, that we have a destiny - the very essence of solipsism! But we only see as it were through a glass, darkly.

 

Yarima of the Yanomami tribe married an anthropologist named Kenneth Good, who brought her to America. They had children, but she could not bear to stay there. She could not understand why we choose to isolate ourselves from each other behind locked doors. It was as if to her, she had become trapped in a land of the living dead. We, to her abiding confusion, measure wealth by fame and fortune, but to her, wealth and community are inseparable, and immeasurably greater than our material 'wealth', which she unhesitatingly forsook; returning to her own reality, she once again lives naked in the forest of her birth.

 

Like the other rain forest Indian tribes, the Yanomami are under dire threat of extermination as loggers and miners penetrate their territory with the hypocritical sanction of governments.

 

Meanwhile, the glaciers are melting, and the rivers that have their sources in the great Tibetan plateau are drying up, threatening half the world's population with thirst and starvation.

 

Archaeologists have found that the main reason civilizations in South America vanished was because of drought - but not before they went to war with each other for the last drops.

 

So we face the threat of "water wars" somewhere in our children's' future. And global warming is responsible.

 

We are the cause.

 

In Sarajevo I learned first hand how war turns our sense of reality inside out. I learned that there are people who are willing to exploit others in wartime to make money.

 

But I also learned that in the end, when we search for meaning, love is all we have, all we are.

 

When Juliane Koepcke miraculously survived being blown out of an exploding plane Werner Herzog made a documentary about her because he had been booked on that flight but missed the connection. We remake reality to make sense of random events where none is to be found.

 

When I was a teenager, I saw a movie about Apu, a boy growing up in a Bengali village, little knowing that it would eventually lead me to the very village in which his story was filmed.

 

And because of this I met Nirmal, and Mridula, Tuku and Lucina; and I have a family in India.

 

As a 7 year old child I was first transported to the planet Rann by the adventures of Adam Strange and his zeta beam, little knowing that it would strike me too, one day.

 

In the past few months, since Mridula died, I have discovered renewed purpose and commitment to my Bengali family after a 5 year hiatus.

 

At the beginning of this year, I was managing three credit cards, two loans and an overdraft. Now I am virtually free of debt, and my disposable income will in future serve a different purpose. Perhaps one more fulfilling than collecting.

 

I will help Lucina attend a world conference on bamboo technology where she has been invited to present a paper. Then she is planning to spend 6 months completing her PhD here in England, if possible in Manchester, where I live.

 

Just the other day I went cycling, and had an accident. I sent this message to Lucina

 

I was greatly enjoying my day off and cycling in warm sunshine. I cycled along the canal towards Etihad Stadium, before turning off to return home along a quiet path. At about 16 miles on, and 4 miles from home, I hit an entirely unexpected obstacle in a place with which I am quite familiar. As luck would have it, I had to duck beneath a branch at the exact moment my front wheel hit something I didn't even see. I was coming down a short curving slope, and it all happened so fast I could do nothing.

 

I came flying over the top of the handlebars, and my right arm automatically stretched out to take the blow as I hit the ground. But the shoulder joint over extended as it took my weight at a very awkward angle and I could almost feel it begin to dislocate, but just avoided it.

 

My knee, elbow and side hit the ground which was unfortunately full of sharp little stones.

 

For a few minute I just lay there, unable to move, not knowing even if something might be broken. And I thought sure my head hit the gravel also, but I think just lucky in a place where the ground was smooth, so no injury.

 

I realized that where I was no-one might come along, so I forced myself to stand up. My right arm was just hanging down and useless.

 

When I came to the bike, I saw that the handlebars and wheel were turned right around through 180 degrees. So entirely backwards, and brake had snapped also with the force.

 

But still working so somehow I managed to get on it one handed and very slowly got towards home.

 

Then I realized I could not carry the bike up to my apartment, and I had no first aid there either. But a cycle repair shop and chemist were not too far so I left the bike with that man and bought Dettol and bandages. But I desperately needed a sling to stabilize the shoulder and they had none.

 

I also realized I would have difficulty self administering first aid, and with my training knew I needed a second opinion on my condition. So managed to walk to work half a mile further and my dear colleague Jacqui - you will meet her - cleaned out my numerous wounds - there were small stones inside and some bleeding because skin totally burned away in some places. We had a funny time figuring out from our first aid training how to design the sling and got it completely wrong. Then one of my volunteers drove me home. But I could not figure out how to get out of the car one handed without moving my injured shoulder!

 

Lucina's response was to immediately telephone and scream at me furiously for being a stubborn fool. Why was I cycling so recklessly? Why had I not gone straight to hospital? Why was I typing a long message to her with an injured arm? Why do I never listen to her? She did not stop shouting for a good while.

 

I went to the hospital and they found that I had broken the humerus.

 

But I feel no pain. My guardian angel watches over me.

 

 

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

 

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

 

[Comicopolis]

Great thread, great photos, great posts.

 

I had a similar cycling accident 5 years ago - it was a real pain.

[Dr. Love]

Thank you Michael.

[Jayman]

I went to the hospital and they found that I had broken the humerus.

 

Don't worry, you will find things funny again after it heals!

 

PS: glad you're ok!

[eman13]

Life is very bizarre, but I am glad you are ok and you got medical attention. I hope you heal soon Micheal

[Flex Mentallo]

Tales from the Island of Serendip updated thread navigation

 

Serendipity

Serendipity - Paddyfield School - The Story of Mohan - Sometimes

 

 

Sting

School bully!

 

 

El Puente

Muralist Joe Matunis - El Puente de Williamsburg - Return to Paddyfield School - Lucina

 

 

Bells From the Deep

Werner Herzog - Juliane Koepcke - The lost city of Kitezh - Sadko - St Clemente

 

 

DavidMerryweather

Virgil Finlay - Reed Crandall - Graham Ingles - Berni Wrightson - Al Williamson

 

 

Small Works

Flex studies for larger paintings

 

 

pcalhoun & jimjum

Clark Ashton Smith - Pat's poems - Jimbo's excellent paintings

 

 

Father Hess

The Life of Father Hess - Kasauli Art Camp - The Death of Mohan Ghosh - Rabindranath Tagore - DavidMerryweather art collection

 

 

Black Marigolds

In Search of Lost Time - Georges Seurat - Roger Fry - The Trojan Horse - Ananda Coomaraswamy - The Great Stupa at Sanchi - Ajanta caves - Black Marigolds

 

 

Detective Stories

Johannes Vermeer 1632–1675: A Detective Story - camera obscura - Han Van Meegeren - The Theft of the Mona Lisa - Donato's Captain America and other works - Rainer Maria Rilke - Cornell Woolrich - Cat's space themed paintings - Netsuke - Hart Crane - Cat's 'Creation' - Boba's illustrations - Caravaggio's Nativity

 

 

Velasquez

Las Meninas - John Singer Sargent - Flex large painting - Thomas Nashe - Tom O' Bedlam - Georges de La Tour - Flex exhibition - Joseph Wright of Derby - John Martin

 

 

The Bosnian Conflict

Andrei Tarkovsky - Welcome to Sarajevo - Margaret Moth - Yasna's cat - Romeo and Juliet in Sarajevo - Miss Sarajevo - the Serious Road Trip - War Child - the Help album - The Ruin

 

 

pcalhoun Writer and Book Collector

Autobiographical notes - Jade tiki - Ubbo-Sathla by Clark Ashton Smith - Robert Q Sale - Tekkai Sennin - Bakemono - Zuni fetish - Yooshi's ghosts - Kuniyoshi

 

 

Steven Assael

Paintings - drawings

 

 

Photos of Nirmal's village

When Shabana was 11 - Mohammed Yunus - Grameen bank - mosaics of Ravenna, Venice & Florence - Duccio's Maesta - when Tuku was a child - We cry to Thee, O Conqueror of love

 

 

Steven Assael

Bride paintings with details - Spirits of the dead keep watch

 

 

Calcutta

Flex photo essay - Lucina's gold medal

 

 

The Hero's Journey

The Courts of Chaos - 'The Heroes' by Charles Kingsley - Medusa - Archetypes - Chris Vogler - Galaxy Quest - the Trickster - Prometheus

 

 

In the Beginning

Altamira - Shanidar - flower burial

 

 

Interlude

Mir para - Lija and her baby - Lullaby - Her name is Zoa

 

 

Emergent themes

My relationship with Bonhooghly

 

 

Before They Pass

Threnody - Jimmy Nelson - The Lost Steps - Witness - Jean Baptiste Debret - Johann Moritz Rugendas - Sebastião Salgado - Serra Pelada

 

 

Sting & The Rainforest Foundation

Sting in the tail - Raoni’s message - Rolling Stone - World in Action - 30 Most Generous Celebrities list

 

 

The Last Free People

Before they pass away - Yanomami - Christina Haverkamp - The Haximu Massacre - pcalhoun on rip-off charities - Love Story - Darkness in El Dorado - Kenneth Good & Yarima - The Good Project - Mridula & I

 

 

Lost Cities

Bitter fruit - El Dorado - The Lost City of Z - Colonel Percy Harrison Fawcett - Garden Cities of the Xingu - Caral

 

 

Interlude

I want she don't go back to that hell

 

 

Heaven's River

Nazca - Maria Reiche “the lady of the desert” - Secrets of the Inca - Wari tomb - the end of all things - Machu Picchu - the Sacred Valley - The condor at Pisac - Ollantaytambo - the "eye of the llama" - The Viracochan image - the pyramid of dawn - Momia Juanita

 

 

Alternative Histories

Jericho - Çatalhöyük - The Great Mother - Tierra del Fuego - Lilith

 

 

Flood

Cataclysm - Epic of Gilgamesh - Genesis - mythological diffusion - "Incidents of Travel in Central America, Chiapas, and Yucatan" by John L. Stephens

 

 

The Universality of Myth

Hamlet's Mill - the Sampo - the Phoenicians - the Paraiba Stone - Fusang - Rowan Gavin Paton Menzies - Zheng He - The Bosnian Pyramids - Maya - Xibalba

 

 

Sunk

Atlantis - Guanahacabibes - Mysterious grid - Bimini Road - Yonaguni - Mu - James Churchward - Out of the Aeons - Lemuria - Kumari Kandam - Ice Age Civilization - Graham Hancock - Lost Continents - Zealandia

 

 

The Human Condition

E. J. Michael Witzel - Laurasian mythology - humanity's emergence

 

 

Arnold Bocklin

The Isle of the Dead - What Dreams May Come

 

 

Was God an Astronaut?

Eric Von Daniken - Chariots of the Gods - The Morning of the Magicians - At the Mountains of Madness - Carl Sagan

 

 

Steven Assael

Druso

 

 

U.F.O

Kenneth Arnold - flying saucers - Roswell Incident - Maury Island - "men in black" - Project Sign - Project Blue Book - "foo-fighters"

 

 

Dark Matter

Alien abduction - the size of the universe - Multiple universes - Stephen Hawking - Fermi's paradox - the Drake equation - The Silence - N-rays - innate releasing mechanism - Carl Jung - The Roper Report - The abduction - The Dark Side of the Moon - gamma-ray bursts - Ordovician extinction - Invader - Budd Hopkins - the abduction of Linda Cortile - John Mack - Aliens in America

 

 

The Search

My red book - Carl Jung's Red Book - Charles Steffen - Ernst Haeckel - Jeffrey J. Kripal

 

 

Lost Horizons

The Snow Leopard - Lost Horizon - Shambala - Hollow Earth - the Thule Society - The Way of the White Clouds - António Andrade - Tsaparang - Mount Kailash - Bhagavad Gita - The Upanishads - Navratri

 

 

Interlude

Update from Lucina

 

 

Festival

Durga Puja - Ramlila - the hijras - City of Light

 

 

Interlude

Further update from Lucina - Calcutta Botanical Gardens - Indian ComicCon

 

 

Pilgrimage

Puri beach - Juggernaut - Temple of the Sun - Kajuraho - Reprise

 

 

Interlude

pcalhoun 'Rilke's Sonnets to Orpheus' - Lucina's Conference - Market Day

 

 

Photographing Wildlife

More Photo of Village Life - Ongoing Correspondence - Ganges 'Beauty Spot' -Eid

 

 

A Christmas Carol

The sheer exuberance of Bengali village life in a hundred photographs

 

 

Labyrinths

Pan's Labyrinth - Symbolic Pilgrimages - Chartres - The Mystic Rose - A Pilgrim's Progress - The Labyrinth of Buda Castle

 

 

Goddess of the Labyrinth

King Minos - 'Da-pu-ri-to-jo Po-ti-ni-ja' - the first European civilization - the palace at Knossos - bull dance

 

 

Atlantis

Thera - Tsunami - Akrotiri

 

 

Theseus and the Minotaur

Mycenaean ascendancy - Pasiphaë - the Minotaur - Theseus and Ariadne - the integration of the shadow - Betrayal - Right of Passage

 

 

The Holy Grail

The Da Vinci Code - the Ark of the Covenant - Knights Templar - the grail in literature and television - Perceval, le Conte du Graal - Joseph of Arimathea - King Arthur - the grail in movies - Excalibur

 

 

The Albigensian Crusade

Imitatio Christi - Heresy - King of the World - Crusade - "God will know His own" - Simon de Montfort - The Inquisition - "Not a bird sang for a generation" - the Wasteland

 

 

Parsifal

Sin, redemption, pain, and healing - Bayreuth - Hans-Jürgen Syberberg - Healing the Wound - Wings

 

 

Cloudlets Bright Career

 

 

Amid the Ruins

 

 

The Angel's Tear

 

 

For the Children

 

 

Tectonic Plates

 

 

Family Without Geography

 

 

My Village

 

 

Elegy

[Flex Mentallo]

Thanks for the good wishes, guys, and from others who pm'd.

 

Of course in narrative terms, I'm using my little accident as a vehicle to make another point. I could not have timed it more perfectly. How's that for serendipity?

[Flex Mentallo]

As it turns out, I broke my humerus in four places. Eight weeks on, physiotherapy continues to be a daily nightmare, 25 exercises, well over an hour of self-inflicted torture, but a necessary process to ensure a full recovery. It's a fairly common injury, so no doubt some of you will have experienced it.

 

Meanwhile, I remain in constant touch with family in the village, where they recently celebrated Eid-al-Fitr, one of the most important Muslim festivals.