Tag: Life

AI counterpoint

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The machine doesn’t know

fear

or love

or loyalty

or betrayal

or any of the gut-level

or off-the-cuff range of thinking and action

much less revolution

I’m coming to suspect that ambiguity

such as the simple “maybe”

will be the downfall of so-called

“artificial intelligence”

and its blatant plagiarism.

“Maybe” and related ambiguity may be the nemesis of AI.

Just look at the fog

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As a child, foggy mornings frightened me, and attempts to comfort me by calling them “fallen clouds” only thickened my anxiety. It was quite simply abnormal. Get me outa here!

Where I now live, I wouldn’t be surprised to see that we have more than a hundred foggy days a year. Many of those, it burns off early, but on others, we are caught in gray for what can extend for weeks. Maybe I need to start counting.

Still, as one Navy commander exclaimed, “You don’t have your share of fog. You have everyone’s!”

That said, let’s get more specific.

  1. Technically, it is a ground-level cloud. Water vapor, which is invisible, turns into tiny droplets that hang in the air. That happens in very, very high humidity, wherever the temperature falls below the dew point. Not that it’s dew, either.
  2. In order for fog to form, dust or some kind of pollution needs to be in the air. Water vapor condenses around these microscopic solid particles. Sea fog, which shows up near bodies of salty water, is formed as water vapor condenses around bits of salt.
  3. Its hazy and ethereal atmospheric marvel has inspired artists, writers, poets, and even lovers, and has a profound impact on various aspects of nature and human emotions.
  4. It’s not the same thing as mist. Fog is denser, more massive, thicker. There are more water molecules in the same amount of space in a fog.
  5. Fog cuts visibility down to one kilometer or roughly a half-mile, meaning it prevents you from seeing further away that from where you’re standing. Mist can reduce visibility to between up to a mile.
  6. One kind of fog is identified as radiation, when heat rising from the ground into cooler air than the air above it. Another is advection, when warm air blows across a cooler surface and condenses. It’s especially common on the west coast of the U.S. Hello, San Francisco. Upslope or orographic happens when warm air blows up a slope, such as the face of a mountain, and then cools “adiabatically.” It’s also called valley fog, when warmer air is trapped by mountains and much colder air above. Typically, it’s a winter phenomenon. And evaporation occurs when warmer water evaporates into cooler air.
  7. Don’t confuse it with smoke, even if London’s famed “fog” was really industrial-era air pollution. Well, that complicates on fashion-coat label.
  8. Fog enhances acoustic experiences. I can definitely hear the fog horn better when there’s fog and it did create the eerie experience of hearing voices from a ship we couldn’t see as it came to the pier.
  9. It’s more common in coastal areas, due to temperature differences between the water, air, and land. As I was saying about our encounters here?
  10. It can help mitigate high temperatures and reduce heat stress. Or turn everything into a steam bath. But it can also freeze into delicate layers of crystal across a landscape or treacherous conditions on boats, airplanes, cars and trucks. Make for slippery walkways, too.

Wherever you are, look for the fog bow, too, like a rainbow within a cloud.

Individual life as a mosaic

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The thought hit me while scrolling through old posts on this blog.

Does anyone you know actually maintain a tightly focused life?

You know, someone who proclaims, ”These are my goals and I’m sticking to them”?

Or is it more a matter of steering between the many things that just pop up, like they do on the merry-go-round here at the Red Barn?

Or more like a pinball machine, for those of us of a certain age?

In the end you just have to patch together whatever you can from the pieces, even while trying to fit them to the other folks around you?

I was tempted to call them ‘staterooms’

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

A full Cape is a classic American design with some good traffic flow downstairs, but it has drawbacks on the second floor, where rooms can feel cramped by low ceilings and be too hot in summer and too cold in winter. Our house was no exception, something we hope we’ve rectified.

In maxing the ceiling heights by following the new roofline, we gained both headroom and air circulation. That move also adds character to each of the resulting rooms, making them something more than rectangular boxes with holes punched in them for windows and doors. (See the ongoing argument in previous posts.)

The sprayed insulation also enhances year-‘round comfort by reducing radiant summer sun impact as well as invasive winter cold.

In addition, the setting of the windows in all four bedrooms provides cross-ventilation, as needed, and the casement windows in the two smaller rooms reduces any draft entry. Each bedroom has windows on two walls, not just one.

We’re especially happy with the resulting four bedrooms, what I was tempted to call “staterooms,” as they are on a ship. There, the chambers follow the contours of the hull and deck overhead, and ours do something similar.

The front two also have a commanding view of Friar Roads, the channel between us and Campobello Island, Canada, while another looks out on a street of a distinctly New England fishing village nature. The fourth looks into trees and the village, giving it a sense of being a treehouse. Rather heavenly, as I’m finding.

For now, I’ll turn your attention to the front two, which overlook Eastport’s principal north-south street, not that it has heavy traffic. Remember, our fair city doesn’t even have a stoplight. Not one.

The front two bedrooms have the quirk of a panel that follows the original roofline before the dustpan dormer kicks in. This results in a small cubby space that creates a small storage cabinet in one bedroom but is left free to run to the floor in the second.

The main differences between the two bedrooms springs from working around the existing stairwell. Our historic stairwell, definitely pre-1830, from the hand-cut oak lathing.

If you divide those two rooms apart by drawing a line halfway between the north and south exterior walls, you’d see that the north bedroom would have been smaller than the south room because it had to accommodate the stairwell. What it gained in the renovation, though, was a charming nook between the stairwell and the outside wall. The space between the stairwell and wall had been a mystery, a wasted space where we  thought we might find any buried skeletons in the house. Alas, only dust and spiders.

The nook, as we discovered, had to stretch a bit beyond that halfway line north-south, because the room’s window was centered there (above the front entry door). Our solution was to have that extension be matched by a closet running along the stairwell in the south bedroom.

The nook does make for a nice, slightly secluded study with that stunning view, especially around dawn and sunset.

Let me remind you that all of that distance to the exterior wall was space added during the renovation.

~*~

As we approached the time for priming and painting the upstairs, we had to admit we had more than 3,000 square feet of drywall to cover with primer and paint, even before considering the flooring. More decisions! As well as delays. 

There, I settled on a brilliant white for my walls and ceiling and what Sherwin-Williams called Smoky Blue for the floor.  

~*~

The cathedral ceilings not only enhanced our celebration of the natural light in our house, they also gave us something we didn’t anticipate: loud rain on the now metal roof, something we usually find comforting, so far. Not that everyone would.

But these rooms are also free of any rolling you’d endure on a ship.

Everybody’s mostly happy with the resulting twists. Remember, nothing in life is perfect, no matter how hard we try. 

What makes a particular writer stand out?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

More directly, the question comes down to this: What makes my work unique? What makes me unique? (My niche?)

As I once would have answered, somewhere back along the path to here:

“My work largely seeks to map organic geo-history, the overlapping energies of a locale and its spirit(s), as truthfully as I can, however fragmentary the result. Since personal relationships, including marriage, appear as places hovering within this landscape – both influencing and influenced by the larger ecosystem – I investigate them often with a concern for the larger, more timeless harmony (Logos).”

My, my, what can I say about that now? Or:

“This investigation of the invisible vibrations has also led me to cherish alternative cultures that embody healing energies – Native cultures, Amish, Mennonite, Quaker, and so on – in contrast to our increasingly rootless, violent, unstable society at large.”

As for the question, “What do you want to be different after this effort? This project?” Well!

“I hope to renew an awareness of the wonder of the universe and an appreciation for our own unique places within it. Out of that, roots and a radiance of peace.”

Or: “How do you want to be remembered? Then think of your customer (reader). What exactly do you want people to say when they speak of you to others? Are you representing your quintessential self consistently? (Image is everything. Brands need an unchanging core.)”

And so, to continue: ”Jnana – a unique, distinctive name – reflects my originality in bridging of many diverse currents into a larger vision. Compression, clarity, highly polished with a raw edge.”

Or a mission statement?

“I summon others to join our waiting Quaker worship and community. (This is how I got here and what I’ve experienced along the way to Truth … ) (Look for young adults, especially.)”

What have I not asked that people ought to know?

“I am part of a generation that has not come to terms with its hippie past – both positive and negative. While we’ve retreated from the general effort to push the envelope, to advance to Edge City, to demolish boundaries, we’ve also failed to examine what we learned and carry from that experience. Instead, there’s a society-wide state of denial that is bound to erupt in unanticipated ways – likely, without any sustaining wisdom.

“When radical currents from both coasts connected in academic nerve centers in the Midwest, furious confrontations erupted, overturning repressive constraints of institutional America.

“The hippie movement that is usually thought of as the Sixties actually appeared most fully during the Nixon administration, 1969-74, and brought changes that younger generations now take for granted.

“Crucial to the outcome were personal transformations that few today will speak of.”

~*~

Well, that’s some of what I’ve wrestled with in my zig-zag journey to here. Other writers will have to speak for themselves. Some of my responses sound today pompous and airy, but I’ll leave them at that for now.

A writer is allowed to aspirations, no?

~*~

You can find my novels and poems in the digital platform of your choice at Smashwords, the Apple Store, Barnes & Noble’s Nook, Scribd, Sony’s Kobo, and other fine ebook retailers. They novels are also available in paper and Kindle at Amazon, or you can ask your local library to obtain them.

Lorenzo Sabine was a Yankee, all the same

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

After running across his name repeatedly while researching the history of our old house, I decided to look him up. Lorenzo Sabine turns out to have been a remarkable character. Best known today for his two-volume, provocative 1864 book Loyalists of the American Revolution, his adulthood included an influential span in Eastport.

Here are some highlights.

 

  1. He was born in 1803 in what’s now Lisbon in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, with a Methodist minister for a father and roots going back to French Huguenots who arrived in Rehoboth, Massachusetts from Wales in 1643. Lorenzo moved with his parents to Boston in 1811, and then to Hampden, Maine, in 1814, where he completed his preparatory studies. His father had been taken prisoner by the British in the War of 1812 while working in a military hospital.
  2. At age 18, following his father’s death and his mother’s remarriage, he came to Eastport not long after Maine gained statehood from being a district of Massachusetts. At first, he was employed as a clerk, then tried his hand at his own business but went bankrupt, followed by working as bookkeeper of Passamaquoddy Bank and then engaging in a series of enterprises, including stints as a mercantile partner with William and Jacob Shackford, sons of the Revolutionary War veteran who built our house and much more. He shows up as a witness on many property deeds and other court records.
  3. He was editor of the weekly Eastport Sentinel newspaper to 1834, during Benjamin Folsom’s time as publisher. He was also founder of the Eastport Lyceum, and incorporator of the Eastport Academy and Eastport Atheneum.
  4. He served as a member of the Maine House of Representatives, 1832-33, and was deputy collector of customs at Eastport, 1841-43.
  5. From early childhood, he was what he called “revolution-mad,” something that grew in other directions after his move to Eastport, abutting Canada and having many residents descending from Loyalist lines. This led to his insight that “there was more than one side to the Revolution.” Prior to this “every ‘Tory” was as bad as bad could be, every “son of Liberty” as good as possible.” During the 1840s, the results of his research appeared in the North American Review, America’s first literary magazine.
  6. Quite simply, his work was not favorably received by “patriotic” Americans though it did receive support from several important historians. Lorenzo then revised and expanded his material into an 1847 book The American Loyalists, or Biographical Sketches of Adherents to the British Crown in The War of the Revolution; Alphabetically Arranged; with a Preliminary Historical Essay, erupting a firestorm of controversy. The work received a more thorough two-volume edition for its republication in 1864. You can read it online to see why it challenged many of the conventional treatments of the Revolutionary War and the tensions leading to the War of 1812 from the British side. He did, do note, receive honorary degrees from Bowdoin College and from Harvard.
  7. He moved to Framingham, Massachusetts, in 1848 as a trial judge and was elected to Congress in 1852 to fill a seat vacated by death but did not run for reelection.
  8. Appointed secretary of the Boston Board of Trade, he relocated to Roxbury and also served as a confidential agent of the U.S. Treasury Department.
  9. He was married three times, to Matilda F. Green in 1825, Abby R.D. Deering in 1829, and 1837 to Elizabeth M. Deering, who survived him. Only one of his five children survived him.
  10. He died in Roxbury in 1877 but is buried in Eastport’s Hillside Cemetery.

Why you don’t get bids with a binding contract

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

That’s also a warning if you do find a contractor who will present one on a project like ours.

Experienced tradesmen should know there are too many surprises when you’re dealing with an old house. The only way for them to come out ahead with that factor is by cutting corners or – as often happens – ghosting the client altogether.

Doing the job right, on the other hand, takes the amount of time it demands.

There’s an artistry in working with an existing old house.

~*~

That said, you better be prepared to deal with the expenses that do come up.

On our contractor’s end, when I look at all of the tools and equipment that’s been parked in our house, I’m surprised he’s making any money on this project. Much of his gear is very pricy, and we don’t even see the hidden costs, like insurance.

As for fireworks

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Let’s start with a pitch I once considered using.

“Hi, my name is Jnana Hodson and I’m a retired hippie. One of millions and, unlike many, I’m not embarrassed to admit it was a time to remember, no matter how short we’ve fallen from its potential. What is often overlooked is that the central element was the hippie chick. My novel, Hippie Farm, celebrates her in her many guises, even if you can’t even use the term “chick” anymore without being corrected. At the time, though, it was a badge of honor and invitation – one leading, in this case, to a rundown farmhouse in the mountains outside a college town. May I introduce you to the full story?”

Well, that attempt has now been woven into what stands as Pit-a-Pat High Jinks. Still, as I also proclaimed:

“In many of my novels, the hippie movement opened their minds. Or at least their horizons. Or even a few hearts. What’s most opened yours?”

That led to these points:

  • Crucial to the outcome were personal transformations that few today will speak of.
  • We’re still caught between two worlds (or) unfinished business. I wanted to present my work as letters from a retired hippie or letters to youth and a call to action.
  • I wanted to tell them I’m sorry about what you’re inheriting. I’m sorry about the parts we messed up.
  • And yet, it wasn’t all our fault. We were too trusting, for one thing. And so green, as in naive.
  • Looking around, there are the old losers and the sense of hippie as essentially a girl thing.
  • It was a youth movement. What you need to know about its legacy is this.
  • Economics:. globalization and digitalization versus small-is-beautiful. As for the tax base? And the kleptomaniac One Percent? How about selling yourself into slavery?
  • Relationships: the restructuring of marriage and family (dare we consider ashrams and similar shared householding).
  • Environment and the earth: Global warming is a reality, despite years and millions of dollars expended in its denial.
  • Justice and equality. Dare I say more?
  • Alternative lifestyle. Think of clothing, the arts (Edge City), food, even basic skills such as use of a broom or hammer.
  • Drugs, alcohol, etc. Legalization is one thing, appropriate usage another. Jail is not the deciding point. Oppressive life situations, however, are.
  • Yup, the whole system of shaping our children.
  • I’m not going there today, other than to say deep readjustments are in order. I hope they get to the bottom rather than enrich the most elite of society.
  • Discipline and self-discipline. For me, that leads to the next.
  • Spirituality and religion. Personal experience of something divine and then holy community.

Now, back to those contributor’s notes possibilities:

  • As an unabashed political liberal, Jnana despairs for public sanity.
  • He knows nothing good can come from a politics of hate.
  • Jnana is a Lincoln Republican who votes Democrat by default.
  • I was UPROOTED, repeatedly. In location, relationship, my career, even faith.
  • The undertow or rip current, pulling me away. I expected to live in large cities, my life filled with opera and symphony performances. Instead, it’s been mostly small cities in rural conditions.
  • My life journey has had little resemblance to what I anticipated from college on. Repeatedly, it seemed I was uprooted – in location, career, relationship, and even spirit – just as I began to address a situation fully. Outwardly, the result has been fragmentary, unified only in the mind and heart that embrace its many facets.
  • In recent years, much of my experience of wandering and sojourn has constellated in an investigation of the metaphors of Light and Seed as they were expressed in the early Quaker movement. I now perceive a semblance between the Dharma bums of Asian religious practices and the vagabond ministry of itinerant Quaker ministers, and find comfort in their legacy, with its parallels to my own movements.
  • After throwing myself into business crusades and tumultuous relationships, I consider myself a survivor. I love classical music and opera, mountaintops and the North Atlantic, Quaker Meeting and New England contradancing.
  • For me, poetry is a state of mind. Its essential element is silence, linking it to sacred (An impossibility, of course, considering the nature of words. And yet!)

Or, to reconnect with Ezra Pound, literature is slow news, something allowing some breathing space and reflection, rather than the minute-by-minute confusion before us.

Which takes me back to Scripture, diving into antiquity for parallels to today.

Now, let’s sit back tonight for some gloriously fleeting pyrotechnics. Something that might inspire and awe almost everyone.

Happy Canada Day – and a nod to the Loyalists who fled from the American Revolution  

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

When I was growing up, we occasionally heard that not everyone in the American colonies supported the Revolutionary War, but we never, ever, got a clue of how many opponents there were or how strongly they resisted. Sometimes it went past as “a third.”

Living where I do, facing the border of New Brunswick, Canada, has been an eye-opening experience on that front.

In fact, a premiere historian of their support of the Crown was Lorenzo Sabine, a prominent figure in early Eastport and a business partner, briefly, of two of the sons of the man who first presided in our house. We’ll look at him in a Tendrils next week.

Today, in observation of Canada Day, we’ll focus on the United Empire Loyalists who were expelled from the new United States to the south. Or, where I live, it’s also east.

  1. An estimated 42,000 white settlers plus 3,500 free blacks and 2,000 enslaved blacks migrated to the remaining British North America holdings during and especially at the close of the Revolutionary War. They came from all 13 rebelling colonies, but principally from New York and New England. Many other expelled monarchists relocated to Florida, Britain, and the Caribbean.
  2. They came from every social class but often after enduring the confiscation of their property and wealth. Some did manage to dismantle their houses and erect them anew in Canada, as I learned in a neighborhood of Castine, Maine.
  3. Sir Guy Carleton – the 1st Lord Dorchester and governor of Quebec and governor general of the Canadas – created the identifying label to distinguish the English-speaking settlers from the descendants of New France inhabitants of the Province of Quebec, otherwise known as Canadians or Canadiens, possibly akin to Acadia.
  4. Growth resulting from the arrival led to the creation of new colonies. In 1784, New Brunswick was partitioned from Nova Scotia to reflect significant new settlement around the Bay of Fundy. In 1791, the Province of Quebec divided into Lower Canada (present-day Quebec), and Upper Canada (present-day Ontario).
  5. To encourage Loyalist resettlement, especially along the frontier of Upper Canada, the Crown awarded the new arrivals land grants of 200 acres a person. This added English speakers to the population and was followed by additional waves of immigration that established a predominantly Anglo-Canadian culture both west and east of the modern Quebec border.
  6. Loyalists in Upper Canada petitioned the government to be allowed to use the British legal system, which they were accustomed to in the American colonies, rather than the French system. Great Britain had maintained the French legal system and allowed freedom of religion after taking over the former French colony with the defeat of France in what we call the French and Indian War but is more widely known as the Seven Years’ War. Thus, most Loyalists in the west could live under British laws and institutions while the predominantly ethnic French population of Lower Canada, who were still French-speaking, could maintain their familiar French civil law and Roman Catholic religion. (I’m assuming that the residents of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick already functioned under the British system.)
  7. Thousands of Iroquois and other pro-British Indigenous peoples, expelled from New York and other states, resettled in Canada. One group established the Six Nations of the Grand River, the largest First Nations reserve in Canada.
  8. In laying out St. Andrews, eight miles from my home in Maine, Loyalists named the north-south streets after the 13 children of King George III. The major east-west streets include one named for Queen Charlotte and another as the Prince of Wales. The county is also named for Her Highness.
  9. Largely influenced by its Loyalist presence, Canada resisted U.S. overtures during the War of 1812 and successfully repulsed American invasion. From the Loyalist perspective, the War of 1812. Other parties viewed it as a mixed bag.
  10. Many Canadians take pride in their Loyalist ancestry. As In 1898, Henry Coyne wrote in 1898, “The Loyalists, to a considerable extent, were the very cream of the population of the Thirteen Colonies. They represented in very large measure the learning, the piety, the gentle birth, the wealth and good citizenship of the British race in America, as well its devotion to law and order, British institutions, and the unity of the Empire. This was the leaven they brought to Canada, which has leavened the entire Dominion of this day.”

George Washington, we may note, did not view them so favorably. As he remarked in a 1776 letter, “One or two have done what a great number ought to have done long ago, committed suicide. By all accounts, there never existed a more miserable set of beings than these wretched creatures now are. Taught to believe that the power of Great Britain was superior to all opposition, and, if not, that foreign aid was at hand, they were even higher and more insulting in their opposition than the regulars.”

Now, for tonight’s fireworks from an island on the other side of the international border.