Power of Friendship

This is Ping, a dear Pekin duck that entered our lives a little over a year ago.

My son, Hayden has always had a soft spot for ducks for as long as I can remember and upon talking to a neighbor a sunny Sunday one day last spring, she told me the local market was selling baby ducklings, so we went to 'check them out'. Of course we came home with one... Ping, who when we went to the flock to pick one out, jumped from the crowd into our box, claiming us. She quickly became part of the family as a cute little yellow soft patch of down (yes, that is her in my profile photo) and immediately imprinted on Hayden, becoming his best pal. Following him everywhere, peeping along the way they have had great times swimming together (Ping would ride on his back), hanging out on the lawn in the warm sun and sharing hugs...yes, ducks hug! It was a dream come true for him and if there ever was a bond between a boy and a duck, this one was very deep.

Sadly, last evening, while she was out on our pond, enjoying a rainy day, she went missing and we have not seen nor heard from her since. A thorough rainy night - flashlight in hand search around the property was followed with tears and worry and sadness with her absence and we hope she will return, but as she always stayed close to the house, it seems unlikely now. She was a great friend to us and an awesome pet. She never failed to greet us as we got home with her loud quacks and enhanced our pond with her grace and beautiful feathers. She was a wonderful addition to our home and hearts and although we have enjoyed her occasional eggs, we mostly appreciated her quirky personality and the warmth of genuine friendship she brought to my son.

  It is a trying day today, for the loss of a friend, whether they be human or in this case a duck, is a very sad event indeed. The hole they leave in the space they used to be in our hearts is impossible to fill and is a painful void that remains empty. Having a good friend is a great privilege to receive and being one in return a very powerful gift to give, whether it be to talk and share life's joys and burdens or as with Ping, to just simply hang out and enjoy each others company. Some take friendship lightly and others in sincerity pull it to their hearts, but our duck Ping, was really a true friend indeed.

You are greatly missed.

...

No, not literally out of my mind, although I have been accused of such, but the name of a new blog for me. A fresh spot where I have engaged the internet to be able to share… personal projects new and old that have sprung from ‘my mind’. 

Some are ‘original’ (if there is any such a thing in this world anymore) and others are inspired from someone else’s awesome idea that I fashioned in my own way. With all these things in my head sometimes (often times really) things go unfinished before a new idea is formed and started upon. I was once told that life with me would consist of many, many ideas and plans for projects, but we would likely  never bring any to pass. Well, this is proof of the untruth of that statement. Some things get finished although not all. I do at least strive to complete the cool ones and I think if I get one out of ten that bounces about between my ears into actual completion, I am doing pretty well. 

Anyway… have a look, click around, say something... be inspired. You can find the link at the top under my profile/ my blogs or simply click here: http://kencanmakeit.blogspot.com/

As far as being out of my mind....A quote to share:  "I'll tell you a secret, all the best people are" Alice in Wonderland
 Ken

A Place of Rest... or Not.

This simple photo of a chair speaks volumes to me. Not because it is some great photo... although I do like its simplicity, but for what it represents, as it is with many of my photos for me. Their meaning to my experience.

I had set it up early in the morning of the last hours of a wonderful Bahamas family vacation years ago. In it, I sought a place to just sit and soak in the peace and easy natural beauty that was there for me, the warm breeze, quiet waves at my feet, a new sun… just the very idea of rest and solitude. I sat there for a seemingly long time... alone... just trying to take in as much as I could for I knew it would end soon. Out there, straight ahead in the distance was Europe and while people there were busy  laboring and learning and all of that, I was just sitting... resting. Airports and travel and challenges all lay ahead of me and as life and work and pressures all would return, I knew they would pull this memory slowly from my mind and I wanted it to stick.  

 There have been many other such 'chairs' for me, whether they would be a quiet spot in my bamboo grove or upon a drum ‘throne’ (I always disliked that term for the record) or an airline seat or even a pew… spots that I no longer occupy for a variety of reasons from ones I simply can't, to ones that are unaffordable, to others now that are now unwelcome to me, but this one... this little plastic lawn chair at the water’s edge, is the one that I want to most return to, for it held more than just a temporary respite for my body alone. 

All of these chairs in life offer something different, some a place to be energized, some to share fellowship or good food shared with friends and still others to take you somewhere perhaps exciting and new, but this one was special. A small quiet space where thoughts waned and breaths slowed and I closed my eyes and felt like I was not missing anything but stress. A place where the thoughts in my head followed only the rhythm of the waves. A special spot for me indeed… Maybe you have one too and I hope that what ever life throws at you, in it you might be able to return one day to that 'space' and find the peace that I had in my heart that day. 

Such chairs are much to rare.

A Shield for the Heart

Recently, I spent a morning walking through the Philadelphia Art Museum, a favorite destination that never fails to broaden my mind's perspective to the larger worlds of art and history. It is a wonderful museum and a local treasure with a great variety of exhibits that are regularly exchanged, mixed with a large permanent collection. Of these, I truly enjoy spending time in a Japanese Tea room to relax and during the visit usually end up in the armor wing.

A section that I am sure draws every young man's fantasy of noble, armed battle , it holds pieces that go back  thousands of years. When strolling through it, I am always amazed at the various forms of protection man has devised to protect his body in times of battle. Some of them are strictly functional, with crude, simple, thick metal hammered into helmets and breastplates with heavy leather trim and others are magnificently ornate pieces of beauty and expression. The pieces with the multitude of small plates fastened together capture my imagination as in my mind, I take on the task of donning such a suit to face a foe. The workmanship that goes into these beautiful metal cases for the body are incredible. Three images below are of small details found in several of these suits of armor, but the one that really caught my attention that day is shown above. Within the hammered, etched, folded and polished steel is a small detail that spoke volumes to me. As you can see, in the middle of the chest plate, is a small heart.

In looking at this tiny but important detail, I thought not only of the physical heart that this suit once contained, but also of the 'heart' of the person that held the physical one in place. I wondered what did they think when the lifted these heavy pieces over their head into place...where they scared, or truly brave, discounting any danger? Was there someone worried for them and what they were going out to face? What did it take to face such a challenge that required such protection?

This small heart to me greatly symbolizes the essence of a suit like this... and of the multitude of ways we without such an armor, seek to protect our own hearts... rarely from  physical attack... but most often from emotional hurt and pain that confronts us in life. When challenged and hurt, we don't have the luxury to encase them in metal shields like this, but none the less, seek to enclose them, shut them down... silence them for to feel these pains can be too much to bear. The pain found in losing friends or family or even our dreams can be so profound, it can change our very nature and views on life. Sometimes in such events, we can find healing, but at other times, we cannot. It is in these times, I wish I too could 'suit up' and enclose my own heart from the pain, sealing it in place, rather than let it succumb and find itself shielded not in peace and love, but in numbness. I wish it were so simple as donning a suit.

 

 

Power of Giving

 

Another unusual post today as it is not an image that is 'art', but simply one of a piece of art.

A while ago, I did a small 'series' on Power. Within images I had on hand before me at the time, I saw that I could find a theme to express the various forms where I could see power was a central presence. The other day, through a thoughtful gift, I thought of another form of power that I had not considered into that grouping, that also ties in to my recent post, Vanishing Love.

As I imagine with many people, I have some health struggles that I deal with and in an inadvertent switch of appointments a few years ago, the doctor I saw on a visit was other than 'my' regular one. This new doctor, was someone who immediately took an interest not only in my heath care, but in me as a person. I identified with him and under his care, I felt confident with the decisions he was making. From that day on, I continued to see him only as my 'primary' health provider and I felt valued. On one visit, while in his office, this sculpture caught my eye on his bookshelf and I asked about it. He said he had always liked it and had picked it up on a trip to Africa in the 1950s. He said he kept it at work to remind him to 'think' and 'feel' when dealing with his patients in finding what their needs were... not only of the present physical symptoms.
I too liked it and even took some photos of it on another visit. Several months ago, I was saddened to know  he was retiring but was glad to find in his place, a new Physician who I believe has taken up his role with the same care and concern outside of them-self that he did with me.

While in for a 'check up' the other day, I was delighted to find that when he departed, I was his very last patient and futher more, that he had left a gift behind for me.... his sculpture.
A small piece of himself as a token of his care and friendship for me. I felt blessed and honored. It makes a connection for me with another piece I myself obtained while in a small, back alley Singapore shop years ago that someday I will show below. Some have told me in this piece they see anguish, others introspection, but I think of it as deep prayer.

In this small way, the power he shared of time, kindness and connection was passed on and preserved with me. My mother told me shortly before she passed that time was the only thing that you truly give to another. Something you didn't earn, nor could ever get back. I wish for time with her again, but it will never be and I am thankful to those who still give me theirs. I too am grateful that through my doctors thought-fulness to me in this little piece of crafted wood from a world and time away, his care will remain with me. I think, like the connection of giving care that I was able to share with my homeless friends in Love Park on those Tuesday nights away from my family, he left something behind of himself to lighten my life. A little connection to humanity with power behind it. Something so important, for there is little of that in life anymore. I am humbled.