It has been a fabulous trip across the continent of North America. Blogging has been an inspirational challenge. Meeting new people and diverse earthscapes, natural and manufactured, are the greatest tools for tweeking lost or forgotten memories or ideas, that have molded my private and public face.
I am back in my Bog temporarily to renew the necessary documents that bind me to place and country… passports, permits, licenses, pension, health cards… least one becomes ‘persona non grata”. And there is the need to take a few little jobs to renew the empty space and holes in my wallet that enable me to fuel body and truck. Aside from these necessities, there are intellectual benefits by returning to Jasper Bog, a bit of time out of the human race to inspire the body with fresh air and pure spring water, from the venerable soil of mother earth.
It is basic… a sinking shack, on a small dry spot in a bog, which, in my youthful naiveté, religious ignorance and hypocritical arrogance I named “Jasper”, the biblical stone upon which the universe would be rebuilt after the Apocalypse. I keep that shameful name as a reminder of the layered social propaganda carved into my bones… perhaps, that is why!? There are unknown forces acting upon me from that vast genetic bank that need yet to reveal themselves to me. My comic relief is a picture of Kurt Vonnegut sitting upon the rubble, of flesh and bones, plastic and concrete, writing his account of what just happened to the "sinful" world and to the “saved”.
In the mean time here she is in our Bog… waiting for me... forever patient... Mederia... ever thoughtful. Rodin missed it... his opportunity to prove his femininehood and his understanding to carry his poetry to higher levels.
And here is Pandora, in her poignancy, laden with visible testimony in the patriarchal dogma of skins and metaphors.
and this is The Jasper Bog World Bank... a two seated composter...where all the crap of the world is dumped to mold and rot to renew the earth.
.
Jasper Bog World Bank
Earth Day contribution
however, forever,
not just for the day
A two seater depositor
For Nure currency
Including a book library
For those long moments
Of cricky hindrance
Finger puppets for the kids
Art for the intellect
Upon which to meditate
A deck on which to laze and read
And look mistly
Over the lake yonder
And then…
To depart without a fart
But light in body and heart
And knowing…
For the generations to come
You have enriched the soil
In this embracing composter
For nature to fill its belly
While leaving no smelly
With a light topping
Of fresh sawdust
------
Open for deposits
24 hours a day.
Rod Malay, Senior Pastoralist, Jasper Bog World Bank
In five weeks I will head out again... south, with a visit on the way to Darling Grandma Nellie for an embrace, and on south to Florida, not as a "Snow Bird", but with that mission to celebritize a little lady, with the " American Dream". Joan Rivers awaits this little girl's rise to "fame and fortune". For me it is a risky "78" journey of life or death. It will be one or the other on that battle field. Has my wisdom and resolve risen high enough to survive that bloody challenge?
I'll be right back... ?
Selamat tinggal
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