Explorer

"The people are very docile, and for the longing to possess our things, and not having anything to give in return, they take what they can get, and presently swim away. Still, they give away all they have got, for whatever may be given to them, down to broken bits of crockery and glass."

-- from Christopher Columbus' account of the discovery of the Bahamans, Friday, October 12, 1492

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Feeling docile today, liable to be led, to learn. I want to see some art, perhaps, and wander through a museum of genius, fondling masterpieces with my mind, turning them over, seeing how they tick. I want to see brilliant theatre (good luck, young Omahan) and presently swim away, happy for no specific reason, just having been assured of the presence of smart guys and gals in the world who make stuff out of nothing.

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Watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics last night. Stunning: an LCD scroll unfurling a still-moving floor showing us the universe in flux, a globe raised from the flats with dancers suspended on its sides as if drawn by a separate gravity, 2,000 tai-chi masters in perfect unison and concentric circles molding space and time, dancers in LCD suits changing colors like leaves in the quickest autumn, and--my favorite--gunpowder dancers making feng shui strokes as they move. With Eastern stillness, ripshit technology and tamed pyrotechnics, the Chinese have shown their artistic chops. Cheers.

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"Broken bits of crockery and glass" the Bahaman shoremen traded to Columbus. Only goes to show, you know, "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold," and so the drunk man on a hill sets his bottle down carefully, "knowing that all things break." But you piece it together, these shards of nada, and make mosaic love with a wall. Forlorn pieces fit together, people find people, and while the gravedigger puts on the forceps, the barber can give you a haircut.

Speaking of which, I'm due for a trim. My hair has reached critical mass, mad-scientist-or-maybe-composer status, and it's time for a shave and a haircut (two bits), to make my head look smaller once more. I'm like a nerdy Asian lion, I swear. Small mammals and flyers take note: nesting grounds abound on my noggin.

I dare myself to do it.

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Time to draw, write, seal and send today's letter. It's like mailing faith in small bundles, trust in little baskets of words, love in ribbons and frills. Forgive the silly Cake-isms today (two bits), but I believe she'll come back to me.