The Narrative Within

The Storyteller Within

Posted on October 10, 2022 by Art for Housewives

It is a chilly October morning and I’m sitting at the airport on Paros waiting for departure. I spend much time watching people and wondering what their story is. Because everyone has a story to tell and everyone is a story to be told.

Socrates was the first to acknowledge the importance of a personal narrative when he suggested that man learn to know himself. So how does one go about knowing themselves? And is it even possible?

From the minute we are born, our story is being written for us without our participation. Our condition of possibility is already determined by who our parents are, what their socio-economic status is, our place of birth, our health conditions, etc. It is only when we begin to understand what has made us who we are that we can begin to know ourselves. And that’s when the story telling begins.

So we tell stories to ourselves about ourselves and in doing so give ourselves an identity. And it is this identity that we’ve created that will influence our behaviour and explain why we act the way we do. It will also greatly influence our future.

Humans are by nature storytellers. Because stories help make sense of the world around us. They also help to form the beliefs we have about ourselves and others. But not everyone is a good storyteller.

Some storytellers stick to the facts and some do not. Some storytellers are kinder to themselves than others. Some storytellers simply do not know how to express themselves. And some storytellers let others tell their stories for them.

The only thing constant in life is change. And as we change, so does our story. And for some months now, I have felt the change within me. Therefore, my personal narrative needs to be updated, edited, and retold.

The Little Old Lady who Broke all the Rules

The Little Old Lady who Broke all the Rules by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg is “an incredibly quirky, humorous and warm-hearted story” about a group of pensioners living at the Diamond House retirement home in Stockholm. In order to cut costs and earn more profit, the owner of the home subjects the pensioners to a depressed lifestyle. They are given miserable food, kept from getting proper exercise, and heavily sedated to make managing them easier. One evening while watching TV, the pensioners come to the conclusion that they would be better taken care of in jail than at Diamond House. Martha Andersson, age 79, says “if we want our lives to change, we must do something ourselves” and suggests that they commit a crime worthy of incarceration. And with that, a group of five elderly people bond together to create the League of Pensioners. The first thing they do is to stop taking their pills. This makes them physically and mentally more animated. They are now ready for a life of crime and begin robbing banks, museums, hotel safes, etc. And they begin to change not just because of the money but, as once again they’ve become protagonists in their lives. Organizing and actualizing their heists, they have something to look forward to as that is the real secret to a happy life. As one pensioner said “It is more beautiful to hear a string that snaps, than never to draw a bow.”

Related: Rita and Jerry Alter, retired art thieves + Why Would Two Ordinary People Steal a $160 Million Willem de Kooning Painting? A new documentary tells the tale of a suburban New Mexico couple who allegedly stole the artwork just to hang it behind their bedroom door + The Science Behind Storytelling

Posted in Books, Introspection, Lifestyle | Tagged Books, Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg, Condition of possibility, elderly, Know Thy Self, personal narrative, Socrates, storytelling, The Little Old Lady who Broke all the Rules | 2 Comments

A New Mythology

Posted on October 2, 2022 by Art for Housewives

Before my mom’s death, we used to talk together every Sunday. Talking with her was like talking to Pythia, the oracle of Delphi. My mom had experience that she was willing to share and all I had to do was listen and learn.

When I lost my mom, I lost my oracle and felt forced to search for a new mythology. While searching, I read Stephen Larsen’s The Mythic Imagination. The title intrigued me but the prose did not. I didn’t need to hear any more about Freud or Jung or Joseph Campbell or other people’s dreams. That’s when I asked myself: why not become a myth of my own?

What is a myth if not a narrative meant to explain thus help us better understand the world around us? What is a myth if not the story of a protagonist with a conflict to resolve? What is a myth if not learning to make the irrational rational?

All myths are personal in that we interpret them in our own way according to our own experiences, our own comprehension, our own perception.

The other morning I was sitting on the terrace with our cat. My eyes, as usual, travelled around the plants. The hibiscus up against a cloudless sky had me mesmerized. The pink flower on a cobalt blue background was so magnificent that it made me sigh. And sigh and sigh and sigh until there was this huge echo. A strange feeling came over me and, as if pulled by a magnet, I looked up and saw my mom’s face in the form of a cloud. There she was, center staged looking down on me smiling. I could feel her voice inside of me saying that there was no need for me to create a new mythology for the oracle lives within us all. And although I mourned her passing, I must remember that grief is a point of passage, not a place of arrival. That said, the cloud, my mom cloud, slowly drifted away.

For the new few days I reflected on this unique experience. I finally decided that my mom, my personal Pythia, was visiting me in the form of pareidolia and that maybe this was her new way of communicating with me. So I began carefully observing the clouds looking for messages. But, like a foreign language, you must first study the language before you can understand it.

In researching the language of clouds, I learned about Cloud Scrying aka nephelomancy. That is, the idea that clouds are oracles.

Although all clouds are made of the same thing (ice crystals or water droplets that float in the sky), no two clouds are the same. They are different in many ways such as shape, color, position, and direction. Some are thick, some are thin, some are wispy and some are bloated with rain. Some clouds have contours that are frayed and blurry while others have contours that are well-defined. And often clouds take on the shape of things that exist down on the ground and not in the sky.

Obviously if you want an answer from the clouds you must first have a question. But before asking it, it’s best to lay down while looking directly up at the sky, close your eyes, clear your thoughts, then open your eyes and start scanning the sky for an answer.

Here are a few of the answers I’ve been given:

Like my mom said, the oracle is within us all.

Posted in Books, Introspection, Toni O | Tagged Cloud Scrying, clouds, mythology, Nephelomancy, oracle, pareidolia, Pythia, Stephen Larsen, The Mythic Imagination, Toni O. | 5 Comments

The Southern Cross

Posted on September 25, 2022 by Art for Housewives

Soon we will be leaving our little Greek island. Looking at the horizon from our neighbourhood beach, I already feel nostalgia. I already miss the vastness of the blue sea just as I already miss the night time sky. Often we spend evenings on the terrace where the Big Dipper can be seen. Sometimes we go on the roof to see other constellations, as well. But even then, not all the constellations are visible.

Once upon a time the Crux was visible to the Greeks. But the Earth’s axial precession began to migrate and by 400 A.D. the Crux became invisible to most of Europe. The Crux is now visible only in the Southern Sky, that is, south of the celestial equator. For this reason it’s known as the Southern Cross.

I’d first heard of the Southern Cross from the Stephen Stills song. Well, it wasn’t totally his song. It was first sung by the Curtis Brothers. Stills had expressed an interest in recording it but was busy with so many other projects that he never did. Then his girlfriend, French singer Vèronique Sanson, broke up with him. The break-up left him feeling wilted and worn. Friends suggested he distract himself by sailing to Papeete. It was here that Stills saw the Southern Cross for the first time. Inspired, he modified the original lyrics:

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time

You understand now why you came this way

‘Cause the truth you might be running from is so small

But it’s as big as the promise of a coming day.

The Southern Cross also inspired the Greek poet Nikos Kavadias. Born in 1910 in Manchuria of Greek parents, in 1921 his family moved back to Greece. When his father died in 1929, Kavadias was forced to work in his uncle’s shipping office in Pireaus where he trained as a wireless officer. But Kavadias already had two main desires: to write poetry and to be a sailor.

In 1922, the Turks marched into the Greek zone of Smyrna and began burning it down. Thousands upon thousands of Greeks were killed and those remaining were left homeless. So in masses these Greeks escaped to Piraeus bringing with them the sorrowful sound of rebetika. It was the music of the poor, the displaced, the victims of social injustice and love gone sour. It was the music of exiled souls. Rebetika could be heard in ouzeri, hashish dens, coffee shops, and any other place frequented by the marginalized. They were places that Kavadias no doubt frequented so it’s easy to assume that his poetry was influenced by the lyrics of these heartbreaking songs.

Kavadias was a loner, an observer, and a collector of stories. His home, the sea, provided him with stories of irreclaimable people and faraway ports, stories of loneliness and longing. Like that of the wealthy young woman he’d fallen in love with but couldn’t be with. Many years later, quite by accident, he saw her again on the streets working as a prostitute.

To redeem one’s suffering you must turn it into a poem.

In the late 1970s, Greek composer Thanos Mikroutsikos discovered that Kavadias’ poems would provide the perfect lyrics for his compositions. His first album using Kavadias’ poems was Σταυρός του Νότου (Southern Cross).

To be honest with you, maybe I like the idea of poetry more than poetry itself. Often the meaning of a poem seems to be so hermetically sealed within the poet that reading the poem is like being in a foreign city without a map to guide me. And I feel lost. But, determined to get something out of Kavadias’ “Southern Cross”, I’ve read it and reread it several times and this is what I’ve understood:

The winds are blowing and the waves are hot. One man narrates the other. Bent over a map, the other says that he is heading to another latitude. A declaration of love is tattooed on his chest. But although the love is gone, the burned skin remains.

The Southern Cross behind them indicates where they are. The other rubs his worry beads and chews bitter coffee beans.

The narrator lets himself be guided by an azimuth compass whereas the other warns of the stars of the southern skies.

The other had learned to navigate that same sky thanks to the captain’s mulatto girl. The other had also bought a knife on an island near Madagascar. The knife glittered like a lighthouse beam.

But now, says the narrator, the other has been sleeping for years on an African shore far away from the lighthouse, far away from Sunday sweets.

The Southern Cross has a special meaning for Australians and New Zealanders. So much so that the constellation’s four bright stars are shown on their flags. Because the Southern Cross acts as a compass for night time navigators. And, as we all know, without a compass it’s easy to get lost.

Related: Crux + Stavros Tou Notou (Live) on youtube + The Earthly and Celestial Meaning Behind “Southern Cross” by Crosby, Stills & Nash + Seven League Boots~Curtis Brothers on youtube + “Southern Cross” with Michael Curtis background info + Crosby, Stills & Nash – Southern Cross + Greek rebetika and rebetiko songs + Warwick Thornton: racists have ruined the Southern Cross for everyone + Precession of the earth animation + Smyrna 1922: A complex legacy +

Nazim Hikmet, poet with a cause + I’m nobody and so are you +

Bibliography: Holst-Warhaft. The Collected Poems of Nikos Kavadias. Cosmos Publishing Co. Rivervale, NJ. 2006

Posted in Books, Paros | Tagged Australia, New Zealand, Nikos Kavadias, poetry, rebetiko, Smyrna, Southern Cross, Stephen Stills, Thanos Mikroutsikos | 2 Comments

The Doll’s House

Posted on September 20, 2022 by Art for Housewives

In 1840 the Brits began the colonization of New Zealand, islands inhabited by the Māori people. Somehow representatives of the United Kingdom managed to get the Māori chiefs to sign a treaty giving the Brits sovereignty over these islands. But later there were disputes over the differing translations of the Treaty. This led to the New Zealand Wars. Along with their presence, the British brought with them infectious diseases that greatly diminished the indigenous population. Plus the Brits imposed their own economic and legal system, their elitist class hierarchy, and confiscated much of the Māori lands causing the indigenous population to live in poor and unhealthy conditions.

Katherine Mansfield was born in New Zealand in 1888 to a socially prominent family. Although she was ambivalent towards the Māori, she recognized the violence of colonial history and the repression of the Māori population. So to escape the colonial mood and focus on her own, she moved to London and never went back to New Zealand except in her writings based on childhood memories. “The Doll’s House” is one such story.

Old Mrs. Hay stays with the Burnell family. To thank them for their hospitality, she sends their daughters, Isabel, Lottie, and Kezia, an elaborate doll house. The house is big and smells of fresh paint. The girls examine it carefully and are awed by the rich details. Kezia is particuliary impressed with an amber lamp with a white globe. The girls can hardly wait to go to school the next day and brag about their new doll house. Isabel said she will be the one to tell everyone as she is the eldest. She will also be the one to decide who can come to see it. So the next day at school Isabel goes into great detail about what a magnificent house it was. Obviously everyone wants to see it and arrangements are made as to who can see it and when. While the girls are gathered around talking about the doll house, the Kelvey sisters walk by.

The Kelvey sisters, Lil and Else, are poor. Their mother washes other people’s dirty clothes to earn a living. No one has seen the girls’ father so it’s assumed that he’s in prison. Because of their inferior social status, the other students at the school treat the Kelvey sisters with contempt. So although they are curious to know about the house, Lil and Else walk away knowing that they are not wanted. Poverty is humiliating for anyone who is forced to experience it. But for a child growing up, it has even a stronger impact. It leads to a lack of self-esteem which is a risk factor in terms of psychological health as well as academic achievement.

Privilege, too, has negative consequences. Once such consequence is that, to reinforce this feeling of superiority, you need to put someone else down. That’s why Lena Logan, cheered by her fellow classmates, goes to Lil Kelvey and, in front of everyone, shrills out: “Is it true you’re going to be a servant when you grow up, Lil Kelvey?” Lena can’t stand it when Lil doesn’t answer. Her need to humiliate is like an addiction. She must continue her terrorism and hisses spitefully: “Yah, yer father’s in prison!” The other girls, suffering from the same addiction, dance with excitement.

That afternoon the privileged girls parade to the Burnell home to see the magnificent doll house. The Kelvey sisters walk by only because it’s on their way home. After most everyone has gone, Kezia, the youngest of the Burnells, sees the Kelvey sisters and asks them if they want to see the doll house. But the sisters, knowing that they are not wanted there by Kezia’s mother, decline. Kezia insists until the girls finally say yes. So like two stray cats, the sisters follow Kezia across the yard. Once in front of the doll house, Kezia says she’ll open it so they can see inside. But right at that moment, Aunt Beryl comes out of the Burnell house and starts screaming. Shooing them away as if they are chickens, she tells the Kelsey sisters to go away at once and never to come back again. Burning with shame, the two little girls run away.

Aunt Beryl is a spinster who’s having an illicit affair with a man who threatens to expose the affair if she’s not accomodating. As a result, Beryl lives life like a volcano about to erupt. But to ease up, she tries putting the pressure elsewhere. Like on those two little Kelvey sisters. Making others feel bad makes her feel better.

Recently a high school friend sent me a link to the above doll house located in San Antonio’s Witte Museum. It comes from a Facebook post found HERE with little information other than claiming that these dolls walk the halls of the museum during the night.

Ahhh, what a lovely thought to think that these dolls come back to haunt those who have treated little girls badly. By the way, did you know that there’s a haunted doll house at Windsor Castle?

Moral of my story: Even rich people have dirty clothes and would continue to have them if it weren’t for women like the Kelvey sisters’ mom.

Related: The History of Creepy Dolls + The Haunted Dolls’ House + Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House

DEATHLY DIORAMAS

Posted in Books | Tagged British Colonialism, doll houses, haunted, hierarchies, Katherine Mansfield, Māori, New Zealand, poverty, The Doll’s House, Witte Museum | 2 Comments

Witch Hunters

Posted on September 18, 2022 by Art for Housewives

Elizabeth Gaskell (1810-1865) was a gifted storyteller. Her father was a Unitarian minister and this greatly influenced her writing. Unitarians believe that God is only one person. But, although Jesus is not a divinity, he is a good role model. Furthermore, Unitarians do not believe in original sin nor do they believe that rational thought and science conflicts with having faith in God. They believe in the worth of each individual and in the universal salvation of all souls. And, above all, they believe that a person must use his free will and think for himself.

Elizabeth’s writing skills were rooted in oral narrative. When she wrote her first novel, she said she wrote it as if she were “speaking to a friend over the fire on a winter’s night.” Aside from novels, she wrote over forty short stories. One such story included in Gothic Tales was “Lois the Witch”.

Lois Barclay, daughter of a parson, was orphaned in 1691 when just a teen. On her death bed, Lois’ mother told her daughter to write her uncle, Ralph, now living in New England. Ralph had left England twenty years before because of his religious beliefs. Alone in the world, Lois had little choice but to cross the Atlantic to live with someone she’d never known. So, once in New England in a colony of Puritans, Lois finally meets her uncle. Although he is kind towards her, he’s dying. Soon Lois will be under the jurisdiction of Ralph’s wife, Grace. Grace, who has one son and two daughters, considers herself to be the epitome of righteousness. She immediately takes a negative view of Lois as the two practice have opposing religious backgrounds. There is also tension with her cousins. Manasseh, a self-proclaimed visionary, says God wants him to marry Lois. Faith, initially friendly, is jealous because the man she’s in love with, Pastor Nolan, has a crush on Lois. And Prudence, a born trouble maker, does everything possible to put Lois in a bad light. Somehow Lois manages to deal with the situation. But that changes when Pastor Tapppau’s daughters start having convulsions. It was obvious to the pastor that Satan was on the loose and someone in their community was a witch. Soon the blame fell on an Indian servant who, after being tortured, confessed to being a witch and was hung. Prudence, wanting to get attention for herself, began behaving hysterically and said started calling Lois a witch. Lois obviously was not but nevertheless found herself in jail. Although she refused to confess to being a witch, she was hung anyway.

Elizabeth had been fascinated by witch hunts for a long time. And it was the true story of Rebecca Nurse that inspired her to write “Lois the Witch.”

The Witch of Salem by Freeland Carter, 1893

Rebecca Nurse was born in England in 1621. But her family later migrated to the Massachusetts Bay Colony settling near Salem. Around 1644 Rebecca married another Brit, an artisan who made wooden objects for the house. For the most part, they could be described as a normal couple. With their eight children, they lived on a farm in the Salem area. At a certain point, the ownership of the property was in dispute. Somehow the Putnam family became involved in this dispute resulting in their accusing Rebecca of being a witch. Rebecca at the time was 71 years old, an invalid, deaf, and had always been considered a pious woman. As a result of these accusations, Rebecca was hung to death.

Judge John Hathorne, a passionate witch hunter, is noted for being one of the judges responsible for Rebecca’s hanging. Although irreversible deceased, less than twenty years after her death, Rebecca was fully exonerated. Many years later, John’s great great grandson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, although born “Hathorne” changed the spelling of his name to distance himself from someone he considered “so conspicuous in the martyrdom of the witches, that their blood may fairly be said to have left a stain upon him.” And it may have been this uncle’s actions that inspired Hawthorne to write The Scarlet Letter.