Life on the Edge

I spent most of today, Sunday, in my bare earth studio sculpting a small altar piece for a single stone. In a few weeks I will show a photo of the finished piece and an explanation of what it is about. However, what I want to share now is a poem that came to mind while I was carving. And to thank Mr. Lax, who, forty five years ago in the sixth grade, inspired in me an awe for learning. Purple by Alexis Rotella In the first grade Mrs. Lohr said my purple teepee wasn't realistic enough, that purple was no color for a tent, that purple was a color for people who died, that my drawing wasn't good enough to hang with the others. I walked back to my seat counting the swish swish swishes of my baggy corduroy trousers. With a black crayon night fall came to my purple tent in the middle of an afternoon. In second grade Mr. Barta said draw anything; he didn't care what. I left my paper blank and when he came around to my desk my heart beat like a tom tom. He touched my head with his big hand and in a soft voice said the snowfall how clean and white and beautiful.

This weekend, people across the world will be holding peace rallies to try and demonstrate to their elected representatives that war in Iraq will not bring about an end to terrorism; rather it will only inflame the situation by sowing seeds that will cause unknown harm well into the future. Remember the Sorcerer's apprentice? Chopping up the broomstick to try and destroy it only created a thousand more brooms. Trying to destroy Saddam Hussein by killing Iraq's people will only create a thousand more terrorists. Today's photo shows a bird's eye view of the Windgrove Peace Mandala; a small tabletop sculpture comprised of nine blocks of wood (hundreds of years old). Carved and nestled into each eight inch by eight inch block is a rounded beach stone. In the making of each piece, I meditated on the thought that these stones are full of ancient time and wisdom; that instead of throwing stones at each other. we might consider them as sacred icons of our past. I'm not saying to worship these stones; rather, see them as a visual, felt link to a collective distant story out of which all of us, all living beings emerged. To contribute to the world peace movement, I am keeping the middle block and stone and sending the other eight to various parts of the world (Germany, England and America) as a way of "spreading" peace. These stones will be "out there", but linked back to the Windgrove Peace Garden as part of a global, extended family. Besides being beautiful, art can be transformative and deepening. Yes, the peace mandala looks good and is interactive and fun to play with by moving the blocks around. But cup a smooth stone in the palm of your hand. Feel its weight. Listen to its story; its unique journey across thousands of years. Whether as a group of nine blocks, or just singly, these little stone/peace altars are about "teaching" how to "transform" our lives so that we might choose to move along the path of peace instead of war. It is about extended time, respecting our elders, listening to the past, loving the earth with its diversity of species, and, being passionate about all of life so that there will be a future worthy of living in. It is about creating a global circle of peace.