Midori Snyder's Blog, page 25

Bordertown Born and Bred

Sometimes you pull at a story, and it feels like you are trying to haul an F-150 truck up a hill. You know there is something there, but it resists every effort to bring it along. And then sometimes, you are blessed by an explosion of not one, but several stories that almost feel as if they are writing themselves. They come on with noise, insistance, and settle under the skin. 

"What is bred in the bone, will out in the flesh," is a Medieval saying meant to express something negative in one's personality -- a flaw in one's character passed on through the blood and marrow, and meant to be an inescapable fate. Yet, I think, with some alteration in thinking, it speaks perfectly to the uniqueness of those born in Bordertown.

Four new Bordertown stories have come together over the last few weeks for me -- and as I write them, still uncertain whether they will take the length of novellas or a single novel -- I am really happy. It offers a new collection of characters (with cameos from past favorites -- I can't seem to write B-town story in which Laura does not appear ) with a specific focus on those who are born in Bordertown. Not the runaways from the World who come and occupy some time in B-town, searching for their identities or a solution to the painful contradictions in their lives. I am interested in what it means to be born in a fanstastic city with laws of nature all its own, a constantly shifting, unstable, creating and destroying sort of place. A fertile soil on which the fantastic thrive. How indeed does such a place affect the DNA of those born to it; the culture of those who live within the walls of a powerful and unique city, and for whom escape elsewhere is neither desired nor even a real option for many. 

Over the next couple of weeks, I will be posting a few excerpts -- following Josh Whedon's terrific writing advice -- write the parts you like first and fill in the rest later. 

Art: Ruth Sanderson, "Stealing Time," Street Art by Urban Cake Lady.

When Tucson Starts to Look Like Seattle

We continue to have such a healthy monsoon rain (and I am betting we may make it into the top ten monsoons for Tucson's historical record ) that our small backyard garden begins to look more like Seattle rather than the desert. Every afternoon the clouds swell over the mountains and this perfect rain just falls and falls, filling the washes, the dry rivers beds, and soaking deeply into the ground. 

Climbing Mountains in a State of Grace

 We are waiting all of us for the arrival of a second granddaughter.  In the meantime, there are mountains to hike, clean air to breathe, wildflowers to identitfy, and a mountain spirit to be instilled, as it was in her older sister, in the sweet girl forthcoming. 

More Monsoon Beauty and Poetry by Josephine Miles

"When with the skin you do acknowledge drought,
The dry in the voice, the lightness of feet, the fine
Flake of the heat at every level line;
 
"When with the hand you learn to touch without
Surprise the spine for the leaf, the prickled petal,
The stone scorched in the shine, and the wood brittle;
 
"Then where the pipe drips and the fronds sprout
And the foot-square forest of clover blooms in sand,
You will lean and watch, but never touch with your hand. 

                                                                    --Josephine Miles, 1934

The Desert Awash With Blooms

One of the great pleasures of living in the desert is when the monsoon comes and dusty and dry desert soil drinks deeply -- and quite magically, turns verdant and lush, blooming everywhere. Over the last ten days or so we have had over four inches of rain which is quite a bit for the desert. And everything has responded, leaping to life in fabulous blossoms, greening branches (even on skeletal and once dessicated bushes) and an orgy of blooms that washed down from the night rains only to be replaced by a profusion of new blooms. Mushrooms with papery fringes sprout in the once dry soil, and in the muddy washes, leading tothe river, tadpoles swarm and tiny frogs across the path. Quite wonderful.

Samurai Armor: The Textile Quality of the Woven, Knotted, and Tied Armor Plates.

As a knitter and a weaver, I was so struck by how much handwork there was involving knotting, netting, and the interlacing of reeds, braided threads, slivers of metal, and leather in the making of the various armor plates, covering the chest, back, top of the hips and arms. While relatively light to wear compared to the European armor forged in iron, it could still to repel arrows (mostly) and sword thrusts. Anyone who has seen the final images of Kurosawa's Throne of Blood can never forget Toshiro Mifune as the Japanese MacBeth with twenty or more arrows dangling from the chest piece. These are close ups of that work -- exquisite in the dynamic designs and color choices. Every detail is a work of textile art combined with metal ornamentations, some of them in sanskrit to call on the power of the Fudo, the God of War for success. (All of these pieces were in an exhibit of  Samurai armor at the Phoenix Art Museum.)

Samurai Armor: Fantastic and Frightening Mask III

This small mask was created by shaping layer upon layer of laquer to achieve the sculptural effect of this mythic and monstrous creature which would have been worn at the top of a helmet. It is as terrifying as any horror movie monster, and yet so exquistely made -- I do wonder about the samurai who wore it. Did he request such a creature? And the artist who made it? Might he not have been both disturbed and pleased with such an usual reptile/fish/monster?  Though the photo is large, the head was probably no more than eight inches from snout to hair (and I wonder, human or horse hair? )

Samurai Armor: Masks of War II

Here are examples of full face masks -- all created in various weights of metal. Some with hinges, mustaches, and one in heavy iron -- hard to imaging keeping it on the face. The Samurai when fully dressed wore about 40-60lbs of armor and gear, and his horse, almost as heavy a burden of protection. But every piece is so beautifully crafted. Here are three -- and the last one was worn by the Samurai's horse.  (Sorry about the small bits of glare -- taking them in a dark room from in front of a glass case it always a bit of a risk. But I was happy the museum allowed it! )

Samurai Armor: The Masks of War I

Last Sunday I was fortunate to catch the last day of an incredible exhibit of Japanese Armor from the 12th through 17th century at the Phoenix Art Museum. It was a spectacular and breath-taking collection of beautiful and terrifying pieces of armor, crests, helmets, and weapons. We were allowed to take photos so I had to focus on what I loved most. I went for two catagories: the face masks worn to protect the face and sometimes the throat (from penetrating sword thrusts) and the actual armor which was created with such woven precision and fascinated me as a weaver. The armor too rivaled any fantasty film I have even seen and that includes the often gorgeous and blood-soaked Game of Thrones. These pieces were not props but art, carefully crafted by multiple artists, in the service of war. They were meant to last generations, and the often did just that. So here are the masks made for the lower half of the face -- imagine fierce glaring eyes staring out at you above them.

A Collection of Baba Yaga's Advice Columns: With Teeth and Bone

One of my favorite places online is the home page for Russian poet Taisia Kitaiskaia who undertook a few years ago to create an advice column for the great Baba Yaga -- the questions are all real, submitted by people looking for real answers to their anxieties and troubles. And boy, does Baba Yaga come through with answers, delivered in dark, ideosyncratic poetry that is always on point. And now those many entries have been collected into a single volume, Ask Baba Yaga: Otherworldly Advice for Worldly Troubles, and is available for pre-order (released September 2017).