枯山水

Karesansui is the 500-year-old landscape artform in which the eternal is represented by a group of rocks surrounded by carefully raked sand. The literal translation of the Japanese word is “Dry-Mountain-Water,” and it’s an infinitely more elegant concept than the label which we barbarians have bestowed upon it: the Zen Garden.

you are now aware of the essence of nothingness

Karesansui was developed by Buddhist monks who apparently had nothing better to do, and delighted in the idea of a garden without plants that would baffle idiots for centuries. The explanation for the arrangement of rocks and simulated waves ranges from islands in the sea to a mother tiger and her cubs, swimming to a sleeping dragon. Of course, it’s the underlying simplicity of what is unseen and unsaid that makes these things accurate representations of the cosmic balance. If you don’t get it, you need to sit facing a rock wall and meditate in unbroken silence for 9 years.

all your chair are belong to me

I have been exploring a similar art form here in my little pile of concrete in the jungle. Though my meager front yard would lend itself well to karesansui due to the fact that nothing grows in it, the hassle of cleaning up the constant drizzle of candy wrappers and bag juice remains continuously dropped by passers by would nullify any cosmic balance it could generate. Instead, I keep my operation inside. It all revolves around Athena, my cat.

The slow, repetitive motion is profoundly calming. By thinning the cat’s topcoat, I am bringing health and order to my life. The brush creates delicate furrows which mimic the gentle flow of water and complement the rhythmic vibrations from the street party down by the square. On this evening, after a long day of hiking and project planning, I can retreat to my tiny bunker, brush my cat, and sink blissfully into the moment.

I’m back

Once there was a boy who spent much of his boyhood searching for the meaning of his own existence, for some kind of proof that his meager life mattered at all. As this was not the typical thought pattern of other boys his age, this boy’s subconscious had been paddled across time by external forces in his environment enough to make his interests noticeably different from their own. They immediately judged him either likable or forgettable.

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Over time, he learned to develop positive, mutually beneficial relationships with those around him and shrug off criticism, and sometimes reality. As a result, he learns that he has some degree of control on the environment in which he finds himself. Autonomy! Damn! This radical new view of the universe and the implications it presents causes him to question his world rather often. Wild, unseen clashes between spiffy new observations and age-old cherished beliefs rage across the battlefield of his mind. He can also see demons and detect most forms of evil.

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And then it ends. The fable isn’t complete yet. Nor do I see it becoming complete any time in the near or medium near future. Indeed I hope it to be far, far in the realm of Shadows. At any rate this fable is going to rock. I can’t even imagine what the moral or morals could be.

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It seems like a daunting task just to keep on living, like I’m going to be carrying something excruciatingly heavy up a very long hill… In Hell. That’s perfectly okay with me, of course. Memories of the last few months remind me that Hell wasn’t really as bad as the average person would think it to be.

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I’ve since went to Orlando and returned, after attending the marriage of my friend and losing my passport, thus presenting unto me the opportunity to terrorize Jacksonville for a second week. Upon coming back, I’ve been greeted by my friends and settled happily into my little world here. My job was enhanced when I was offered a position with the agency that deals with rural agriculture. Of course, this segment usually contains the poorest people in the country who aren’t begging in the streets. It seems like an interesting new chapter to slap on the story, so I’m most definitely down.

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Anyway, I must leave you with these awesome pictures as substitutes for stories. Greatness will soon come. I’m inhumanly busy with shifting work and settling back in. The new volunteer arrives tomorrow. So many possibilities… The next few weeks will not disappoint.