Author: JLfromNH

Shortest Month (and posting) of the Year

Sorry to be a bit late on this posting. I was laid up early this month with a flu like bug (nasal congestion,chills, aches, fever, general over all blah). Much better now though.

Then a few weekends ago my computer which I got about 7 and half years ago began having issues. It was clear it was time for a new computer. So I got a new desktop unit (already have the monitor,etc) so I have been spending the past week discovering the byzantine software known as Windows 10.

I’m sure I’m preaching to the choir here when I say this is the most Rube Goldbergish bit of software that Microsoft has yet come up with. The initial booting up and configuring took so long I nearly lapsed into a coma waiting.

snoozing kitty



Then the grueling process of creating a password and pin number. Seriously? A pin number? Well…..ok. Then a whole series of options that Microsoft recommended but for which I mostly had no use for. Each time I deselected the option, the font would change to a red color and plaintively warn me of the dire consequences of not keeping that option.

Window 10: But if you dont use this, you won’t be able to use thus and so for this and that.

Me: I don’t even have a this and that,so why would I want to do thus and so?

And so forth. A trial copy of Office 365 proved so cumbersome to try and activate, that I found myself saying Many Bad Words, which would have sent my late mother running for the Lifebuoy soap. I finally gave up in disgust and downloaded Open Office instead. I was intending to do that anyway but Microsoft induced me to do it a lot faster.

So my spare time is being spent on a learning curve fit for Albert Einstein. The folks at Microsoft would do well to take a page from Henry David Thoreau: “Simplify! Simplify! Simplify!!!!”

Happy Valentines!

More tools of an artist

In a previous posting I described one of the most basic tools of a beginning artist, the drawing pencil. Whether graphite or charcoal, the drawing pencil is the best way to begin sketching images of people and/or their surroundings. Along with pencils also come erasers and blenders. While we tend to associate erasers with eliminating mistakes, they can also serve as useful tools for enhancing your work.

The erasers most everyone is familiar with is the rubber eraser.

pink school eraser

I still have fond memories as a child of getting the first eraser of the school year along with new pencils and a ruler. Originally made of rubber, modern ‘rubber’ erasers are now made of a synthetic substitute. These types of erasers can be used in drawing but they tend to leave ‘crumbs’ behind which have the potential to mar your art work.

A better eraser is the vinyl eraser.

vinyl or plastic eraser

Because plastic erasers are harder, they are less likely to leave crumbs when used. It’s important to go easy with these types of erasers as they can damage paper. But the plus side is that you can even erase ink with them.

My personal favorite is the kneadable eraser.

kneaded eraser

Similar in feel to Silly Putty, the kneadable eraser can be molded into a variety of shapes, depending on what you are erasing. It leaves no crumbs but absorbs graphite and charcoal so will turn a very dark color after you have used it on a lot of drawings. It may harden up when left sitting for a long while, but will soften back up when you work it around in your hands.

Also useful are blenders, often called blending stumps or tortillons depending on how wide they are.

blending stumps

These are used to spread graphite and/or charcoal on the paper to achieve a smoother effect. You can use your fingertip or a q-tip but the blenders are more precise and less messy. Chamois cloth, which is a soft piece of leather, can also be used as a blender as well for larger areas.

All of the above tools are not to eliminate mistakes made but to enhance your artwork. A good example of this can be found on this tutorial which give instructions on how to draw realistic clouds.

Buy a couple pads of sketch paper and draw, blend, erase and smudge to your heart’s content.

Happy drawing!

A Book Review

I recently finished reading a non-fiction book titled The Memory Code by Lynne Kelly. She begins her work with an observation about traditional non-literate cultures. While preparing to do research for a natural history book about animal behavior and indigenous stories, she became aware of the vast amount of memorized information possessed by native Australians. Their capacity to recall detailed knowledge about local animals including not just their identification but their behavior, favored living areas, and value to the local humans far dwarfed any knowledge she was able to get out of a book. Coupled with plant lore, the lay of the land, locations of vital watering holes, beliefs, customs, even genealogies, it was clear indigenous Australians must have some way of recalling and preserving this information without the advantage of books.

What they use are songlines, sung narratives tied to physical locations, weaving back and forth across the landscape, with rituals being performed at specific locations using dancing and singing to encode the information associated with that area and make it more memorable. Dr Kelly noted that the songlines were used in a fashion similar to that of the memory palaces used by ancient Greek orators to memorize their speeches.

This in turn led her to wonder if other early cultures also used similar methods to preserve oral wisdom. Could the ancient ruins of Stonehenge, the Carnac Megaliths, the Nasca Lines or even the giant stone heads on Rapa Nui (Easter Island) actually be complex memory spaces used by the peoples who built them? Her subsequent book The Memory Code explores this possibility, carefully examining the archeological evidence of the various sites. Her work is by far the most lucid explanation of why these impressive sites exist and why Neolithic people spent so much time and effort constructing them.

Forget space aliens or refugees from non-existent Atlantis, the reality behind these impressive works is much more mundane and yet at the same time more marvelous. The idea that early people were unsophisticated savages is blown out of the water by the revelation that they in fact possessed a rich body of knowledge which they had built up over thousands maybe even tens of thousands of years. Megalithic monuments like Stonehenge were raised as a way to organize this vast body of wisdom and create memory spaces to preserve this knowledge with as much fidelity as possible.

The ruins of Gobekli Tepe, thought by some to be the world’s first temple, date back to 11,000 years ago. Its elegant design with numerous carvings show that people of the time were already well practiced at creating memory spaces. Dr. Kelly speculates that Gobekli was built as the first large scale memory space. But it is more likely there were earlier ones, either not yet identified or perhaps plowed under by the last incursion of glaciers.

Dr. Kelly points out that many people holding onto their traditions still used memory spaces well within historical times and in some instances even today. The Songlines of the Australians, kivas used by Pueblo people, lukasa memory boards used by the Luba people in central Africa, and the Inkan khipu used by the Inkan Empire all show how widespread the practice is, even in the face of the literacy we take for granted.

Singing and dancing were critical ingredients in the creation of many memory spaces. Recent archeological work at British and European megaliths show signs of large ditches where Dr. Kelly speculates that ceremonies were conducted, taking advantage of the unusual acoustics the ditch would create. Music is as old as the human species itself and possibly even older. Some tantalizing evidence seems to suggest it served as a social glue that bonded human groups together, and ensured their survival even during the hardest times.

Coupled with the need to preserve knowledge, music and dancing became literally hard-wired into our brains. Is it any wonder teenagers insist on listening to music while they do homework? Is it really any surprise our brains are so vulnerable to earworms?

    The Memory Code is well worth a read on a snowy winter evening for delving into these mysteries and coming away with a heightened respect for our far from simple ancestors.

    More Turkey?

    A week after Thanksgiving, it’s pretty certain everyone is more than satiated with every possible dish one can think of to make use of leftover turkey meat with. Since I didn’t have company visit this year, the leftovers were the result of a pair of turkey thighs, rather than the whole bird, making it easier to polish them off.

    A few days after the holiday kickoff, a small flock of wild turkeys came strolling up my driveway and into the small patch of woods in back of the house. Wild turkeys are surprisingly large, leaving prints behind very reminiscent of dinosaur tracks.

    Given that the height of the Thanksgiving feast involves a native American bird, one can’t help wondering why it is called a turkey instead of whatever the First Nation peoples called them. It turns out that invading Europeans tended to name anything they came across after something they were already familiar with in their homeland. One good example is corn. The word corn originally applied to wheat or any other cereal grains. Maize by the way is not really a name from any of the First Nations but has its origins in Spanish. Each local ethnic group had their own name for this staple of life.

    As for the turkey, this name was actually applied to a different bird, the guinea fowl. Originally from Africa, it was brought to Europe via the Ottoman Empire (which included the present day Turkey) and was referred to as turkey cocks or hens (depending on gender) because of that. Since the bird from North America superficially resembled the guinea fowl, it came to be referred to as a turkey as well. Because it had a better flavor than the guinea fowl, the American ‘turkey’ supplanted it on many tables and eventually became the centerpiece for our current Thanksgiving celebration.

    This past year must have been a good one for wild turkeys as their numbers (based on the size of the flocks I have seen) really jumped. The current turkeys are not really native to New Hampshire. The original turkeys we had disappeared from the state 150 years ago because of habitat destruction and overhunting. Reintroduced in the 1970’s using birds from the Mid Atlantic states their population quickly boomed, helped along by an increasingly mild climate as well as a supply of well stocked bird feeders. Now they are a common sight throughout New Hampshire.

    I always get a chuckle when I see wild turkeys. There’s just something so goofy looking about them. But while turkeys have a reputation for being stupid, that’s more likely true of the over-bred domestic varieties. The wild turkey is sharp-eyed and canny, necessary traits for surviving in the forest, where they are often on the menu of hungry foxes, coyotes and other critters.

    The mothers carefully shepherd their offspring about. In early summer the chicks resemble fuzzy little footballs. By midsummer they have grown and feathered out enough so they can briefly get air-born for about five seconds or so when they flap their wings. Because factory farm turkeys are so heavily bred for size, many can barely walk much less fly, so it can be surprising to discover that wild turkeys can not only fly but do so very well.

    By summers end, they are nearly full grown and can often be seen along with their mothers teaming up with other turkey hens, forming sizable flocks. The males seem to congregate in their own flocks as I have often seen groups of turkeys consisting almost entirely of males.

    There’s an old belief that Benjamin Franklin wanted the wild turkey rather than the bald eagle to be the national bird. This is actually a culture myth. It seems Mr. Franklin didn’t feel the eagle was the best representative of American character. In fact he thought the eagle was a bit of a coward and believed the turkey was more courageous than the bald eagle. But there is no indication he wanted the turkey to be the national bird.

    In any case, the turkey today is a welcome addition to the local wildlife and I hope will continue to stroll by my house from time to time to give me a good chuckle.

    How the year flies by

    It’s hard to believe but we are on the doorstep to November with the time change (fall back) just a weekend away. It seems the older I get, the faster time seems to slip past. At the beginning of this last winter, we got hit with a cold spell in January that rivaled the ones I remember from a kid. Twenty below zero (Fahrenheit) at night and barely reaching zero during the day. Cold enough to make the car battery seize up and the fuel line to the furnace ice over requiring the services of a plumbing firm to thaw things out.

    Wind storms came and went, finally taking out a dead pine near Big Rock.

    Thankfully spring arrived, a bit drier than usual but pretty much on time.

    Memorial Day came and went, the weather cooperating enough to allow the usual Memorial Day parade starting at the local firehouse just down the road from where I live and continuing up downtown Main Street.

    The holiday is a signal for serious gardening to commence so I made my usual planting in my raised beds of a few vegetables with what I hoped was suitable protection against the usual offenders (deer and woodchucks).

    Alas, the local woodchuck (a female) produced a hungry litter that proved small enough to squeeze through the fencing to feast on the growing wax beans. I belatedly reinforced the fencing and was able to coax the surviving plants to produce a few beans for the dinner table.

    Summer proved meltingly hot this year with humidity levels appropriate more for the tropics than Northern New England. Rain came in fierce torrents at widely scattered intervals, making it hard to keep the raised beds moist. In spite of the unstable weather conditions, I was pleased to see more bees than I had seen last year. Also a pair of wood thrushes collected nesting material from the back yard and took up residence in the woods, the male’s sweet gurgling song floating through the trees, something I hadn’t heard in quite some time.

    Finally something else I haven’t seen in well over a decade, monarch butterflies came migrating through in late August. It’s easy to read encouraging omens in this, that somehow Mother Nature is still managing to hang on in spite of all the damage careless humans seem determined to cause. But we are not out of the woods by any means and need to continue our efforts to support Her. I am down by one composter but have adjusted by snipping weeds rather than yanking them up, adding to the mulch in the gardens. Weather permitting, leaves will be raked up and after filling up the remaining composter will be scattered beneath the trees, allowing nutrients to return to the soil to support the next generation of bees, wood thrushes, monarch butterflies and, yes, baby woodchucks and hungry deer.