Between the Lines

Of late, I keep coming up against the language divide. On the one hand, we have the language hippies. They’re cool with any kind of expression – grammatical or not. They tend to shrug off any suggestion that there are things it is wrong to say or write. Down with Skool!

But the idea that something “means” whatever most speakers think it means, is a slippery slope. Most people don’t know the difference between unexceptional and unexceptionable, or unconscious, unconscientious, and unconscionable. So maybe we don’t really need these words. But you’re/your, I/me/mine, accept/except? Do we really want our expressive abilities to erode to a selection of emoticons?

On the other hand, we have the grammar gorillas. If they were politely improving other people’s speech or writing, they might even be useful. But not only do they tear a strip off anyone making a mistake, they are surprisingly often WRONG. Ironically, their crusades are often (mis-)guided by a lack of knowledge and feeling for language, and worse, they are completely impervious to evidence.

Give a grammar gorilla a link to the Cambridge Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, or the OED, and they will fanatically persist in their errors as, obviously, the editors of said volumes cannot be trusted. They object to sentences ending in prepositions, or beginning with conjunctions. And if they think “liberal” means generous, anyone who uses the word in politics leaves them frothing at the mouth.

So where does that leave us, the middle-of-the-roaders?

Now, I confess I have a secret failing. I sometimes politely point out to people on the internet that they’re wrong. Only when people want to learn. Or when they’re being really, really nasty. I keep thinking, when they realise they are wrong themselves, this will make them a bit kinder to the people they go around “correcting”. Foolish of me, I know. People who ridicule others for making mistakes do this because they can’t accept their own. And the more vicious their attack, the deeper the fall if they admit they were mistaken or misguided. Oops.

So I should stop, right? And join the silent majority that allows obnoxious troubled individuals to jeer mercilessly at others. Or maybe I’ll go on patiently pointing out the gorillas’ own errors. Because letting their vicious intolerance go unchallenged, makes the gorillas believe they speak for us all.

I don’t know. What do you do?

Tale Untold

K 2009. Study in coloured pencil.

Isaac wasn’t a happy child. Nor was he unhappy. He spent his time reading or lying in the grass looking up at the sky and the trees. He didn’t show much interest in playing with other boys and hated it when his grandmother invited them to play.

He had no patience with those whose mind wasn’t as quick as his own. Apple sauce for brains, he called it. One day, one of his unfortunate visitors lay under the apple tree laden with ripe fruit.

As the apple fell, Isaac crowed: like calls to like!

The idea of gravity was born.

* * *

The 100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups at Julia’s place: …as the apple fell… With apologies to Isaac Newton.

Lucky Charm

It would be alright. He’d done this a hundred times before. Today he was guiding a group of geologists searching for an underground river in the caves beneath the Jokakichua mountain, or Dragon’s Head, named for its distinctive shape and it’s sudden “flames” of fog.

He knew the greenish algae-produced light helped adjust your senses to the surroundings; it felt eerie nonetheless. Irrelevantly, he wished he hadn’t lost his lucky charm.

Suddenly he stopped, senses on red alert. It was quiet, too quiet. Where was everybody? He heard a deep rasping breath, and felt a hot draft on his neck.

T.Mastgrave’s story challenge: Unnatural silence.

Quick Colours

K ’03. 15 min sketch done from photo on sketch paper.
I see the flaws, and I like it.

I recently came across a lovely art-blog by watercolour artist / teacher Jana Bouc with beautiful ink-and-watercolours, especially her wildflowers.

It reminded me of an art group I went to years ago. I wanted to improve my drawing skills, and spent hours (or so it seemed) labouring over pencil drawings. I know you need to practice, but it gets fairly tedious, so I used to finish up with a quick ink-and-watercolour study, just for fun.

The pencil drawings weren’t that bad. Yet somehow, I was always happier with the spontaneous watercolour sketches than with the drawings that cost me so much effort. I wonder why. Was it just that I prefer colours over line drawings? Or because in my mind one represented work, the other play? Or did the my impatience with one and joy in the other somehow seep into the drawings?

Not so bad, I guess.

You can see I was totally lost, trying to do the reflections here.

Abstraction

Bertie is feeling a little abstract today.

To abstract is to draw out
the essence of a matter.
To abstract in art
is to separate certain fundamentals
from irrelevant material
which surrounds them.

– Ben Shahn

I’m sometimes a little annoyed about the confusion between abstract art (based on real objects, simplifying, reducing and changing them) and non-representational art (not based on objects). Logically, you cannot abstract (lit.: take away), if you don’t start with something to abstract from.

Now, Bertie here is doubly abstract and proud of it: he’s an abstraction of dogginess in the first place, and now he’s been reduced to monochrome triangles. After pondering the matter from various angles, he seems quite happy, and has settled down for a little nap.

Share Your World

Bertie in vectors.

1.  What type of pets do you have or want?
I’d love to have a dog. As a surrogate I enjoy reading dogblogs, like those written by Bongo or Patch. And of course I have Bertie!

2. Would you rather take pictures or be in pictures?
Take them, any time. I hate being photographed.

3. What household chore do you absolutely hate doing?
Opening and filing correspondence. I’d rather wash windows!

4. What’s your least favorite mode of transportation?
Buses on long trips. Is this a legacy from schooldays?

Cee Neuner’s Share your world initiative. Links to other blogger’s answers here.

Hangdog

I don’t usually read the papers, but this morning was special: there just might be a small piece about my paintings in the local section. Not that I really care. No fame and glory for me: I know I’m not exactly Picasso. But all my friends would read it!

Then I found it: pure poison. Oozing condescension. I couldn’t believe it! That supercilious little jerk. Angrily I tore the offending paper to shreds. Take that you bastard! And that!

When James came down and wanted his paper, there was only confetti on the floor. I blamed it on the dog.

Bertie back again. Is he feeling guilty about skiving off for so long?

My contribution to this week’s 100wcgu: …I blamed it on the dog…

Going up the Walls?

Going up the walls? Try graffiti.

Ever been tempted to spray paint the walls? Well now you can.

Is the day gray? Try graffiti.

And of course, I couldn’t resist.

Honi soit qui mal y pense.

Crazy

One of the zentangle habits is to name the patterns one puts in a doodle. The one I personally call “Crazy” (like crazy paving) is good for covering up pattern ideas that didn’t work out. Can you spot it?

In the Depths

The Rose

Perception

Our eyes may calmly look upon this earth
Perceive its beauty, and admire its wonder,
And wander fitfully around its girth
Dividing elements and parts asunder.

For all that we behold we seek to name,
To understand. We always want to know
What’s different, similar, and what’s the same,
Why mountains bulge and whither rivers flow.

But as we grasp the world, our own ideas
Stand in the way of what our eyes can see.
Our stories, superstitions, hopes and fears
Do not allow our judgement to be free.

Know this and your vision will be clearer:
The world’s but your reflection in a mirror.

Patterns of life

The latest 100wcgu challenge is to write a sonnet, possibly including St.George. I gave poor old George a miss. Conversion-at-dragon-point is not really my cup of tea,  and I rather like dragons anyway, see an Elizabethan dragon, and it’s clan.

Small Talk

Twenty questions again. How he hated it.

If at least people asked directly it would be a clean death. These oblique questions were torture. He’d tried evasion. “I work for the government.” It didn’t help, just drew the painful process out.

Unfortunately, he was a bad liar: he’d stammer or choke. He blushed to recall the amazed and unbelieving looks. “I work for a business consultancy”, whatever that meant. Once, in a panic, “I’m a funeral director.”  Well, everything was better than the truth.

The shifty looks. The mumbled excuses.

My name is Peter and I am a tax inspector.

This week’s challenge from T.Mastgrave: Taxes.

Rainbow Trail

Leroy bet me
I couldn’t find
a pot of gold at the end,
and I told him
it was a stupid bet
because the rainbow
was enough.

Rita Mae Brown

Round and Round

Tangling Away

Last year I came across a doodle movement: Zentangle / Tangle / Zendala / Zendoodle etc. Quite simple really:

• draw four points for the corners
• pencil lines between them
• pencil a loop or string to break it up
• fill each of the resulting areas with a different pattern.

Tried it yet?

Drifting Off

That’s what he would do. Gerald heaved a sigh of relief.

The decision had been driving him crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep for almost a fortnight. There were so many factors to consider. So many things that could go wrong. But now all that was over. He’d made the decision, and all would be well. It was a great weight off his mind.

He turned over in bed: now for a good night’s sleep. He closed his eyes, ready to drift into oblivion. It was several minutes before he heard the niggling voice.

What if he was wrong?

Another challenge from T.Mastgrave: Doubt.

Turning over a New Leaf?

Spring: time for new things

Feeling Prickly?

Easter Doodles

Easter eggs? Bertie's nose prints?
With modern art: who knows?

Idle Question

“It’s mine!” “No, it’s mine.” Melissa took a deep breath and then went on peeling the potatoes. She knew any minute the fight would spill over into the kitchen.

“Give it back.” “Mummy, she started it.” “If I hear one more word, I’ll lock you both in your bedroom until tomorrow”, she fairly screamed. The girls looked mutinous, but left the room for now.

Melissa’s hand shook as she reached for her glass. It was a little early, but she needed it. They were such little angels when they were asleep. She wondered how many mothers actually killed their children.

Dogs, of course, are always good as gold.

This week’s challenge by T.Mastgrave: Angels.

Fluid Lines

Another cute online painting tool: the fluid painter by Peter Blaskovic. Have a go!

Easter Emergency

I don’t like painting eggs, I want to go home,
Said the girl with the curls to the little blue gnome.
But I need these eggs painted, the gnome wept its plea.
If they’re not done tomorrow, I’ll never be free!

There are too many eggs, there’s no way we can paint
them all by tomorrow! The gnome fell in faint.
But the girl didn’t panic, she knew just what to do,
She called to her friend, with thing one and thing two.

With little cats A – Z and the voom
Hat-cat got those eggs painted, and lifted the gloom.

And in case you’re not sure just who sits on this mat:
It’s a dog with a blog, not the cat in the hat.

Once in the vein of nonsense verse, I couldn’t resist this Dr Seussish prompt in the current round of 100wcgu.

Responsibility vs. Blame

I’ve argued before that we are pulled in many different ways by our feelings and needs, and that we do not consciously choose our actions. Also, believing that somebody deliberately chose to act badly is what triggers anger, hatred and blame.

– Heresy n°2 –

Everyone is always doing their best.

While I characterise it as a heresy, it’s not exactly a new idea. Many people reject it because thy are afraid that if noone is to blame for their actions, we will lose any kind of morality, and the basis for social order. In one sense this is true: our current societies are based on blame, and that does go out the window. At the same time we can easily replace it with something better: responsibility.

Blaming is about looking backward, about judging and finding a guilty party. Responsibility looks forward: it is our common responsibility to find a way of living together in peace. Blame is divisive, responsibility binds us together.

Consequences

Adopting Heresy n°2 means we can think in terms of incentives and deterrents. These don’t depend on free will: if an action is connected to a cost or benefit, this becomes a factor in the unconscious decision making process, and influences our behaviour. And we can think about influencing behaviour much more clearly without the fog of concepts like blameworthiness, and just deserts.

Have you ever found yourself defending your own behaviour, although, in your heart of hearts, you were unhappy with it yourself? When we play the blame-game, we are automatically creating opposition. When we say “you are a bad person” to someone, it’s not really surprising that they push back. Suppose instead we say: “I understand you had a good reason to act as you did, at the same time I really don’t like what you did, maybe you aren’t completely happy with it either?” Then maybe together with that person we can find ways to help them act differently in the future, or to prevent the negative consequences of such actions.

Most important of all, when we adopt the idea that everyone is always doing their best we can stop wrestling in our minds with what we think is going on in someone else’s head. Have you ever found yourself repeating an argument you had with someone? Have you ever found yourself wanting to “teach someone a lesson”, or to “show them how it feels”? This is all unpleasant, and it’s not about what really happened, but about what you think is going on inside the other person’s head. When you accept that that person did not choose to act as they did, you can let it go.

Personal slant

There are many ways of expressing Heresy n°2., e.g. “Everyone is acting the only way they can act in the situation as they see it.” I prefer my version “Everyone is always doing their best” because I find it emotionally more appealing. The positive slant makes it easier for me to feel compassion with someone whose actions are getting on my nerves. Of course, everyone is free to find their own way of putting it.

A final test

If you think: “Well that’s all very nice, but it’s not really true, is it?” try this test. Think of something bad that you’ve done, something you are really unhappy with in retrospect. Were you happy and relaxed that day? Was the sun shining, the sky blue, and did you decide to do something bad just for the hell of it?  Or were you under pressure, stressed out, exhausted, afraid, or hurt? Was this something you did because you saw no other way, or you just couldn’t help yourself?

I think you will find that at that moment, under those circumstances you did the best you could, however miserable that best may have been. Now, if you claim this compassion for yourself: how can you deny it to anyone else?

Colourful Dreams

Yes, dogs do dream in colour, especially on pain meds...