Travel: North Carolina with the Brother

A trip to North Carolina to see the Brother

It all started out with The Queen giving me the stink eye, because she saw the suitcase and that always means trouble, in her pointy little headโ€™s opinion.  After the final treat, I headed to OKC and caught my first flight to Atlanta. I remember Drew always referring to it as โ€œHotlanta.โ€ Somewhere I saw a sign… several years back… that said, Nobody calls it that. We did.

Spent an hour and a few dollars in the Braves Bar during the layover before taking off for RDU–The Raleigh/Durham airport.

That evening, my brother and I spent hours outside talking and drinking. He was hanging something fierce the following day (the whiskey was good but perhaps a tad too much), so we lay low and just hung out.

Truly a very nice evening. We havenโ€™t talked like that since we were kids, and I suppose that is a good thing.


Hangover and a Papilio glaucus

We spent the day just resting and enjoying being outdoors in the beautiful weather. There are several very fat mosquitoes around his house. I had no idea they were feeding on me until the following day. Ate my ass up! After a bit, the brother felt well enough to move around long enough to go to the grocery store. I picked up the fixinโ€™s for a nice chicken curry. When I started to put it together, we discovered that they had no curry powder; however, they had all the ingredients to make their own curry powder… very tasty.

The butterfly was beautiful.


Duke

On this day, we went to Duke University, where my brother received his PhD.  A beautiful campus and very rich. I bought a flimsy t-shirt and thought it would cost about $20. Turns out… $56! Almost told the girl she could keep it, but came home with it anyhow. Glad I did.

At the top of my list was the University Chapel. Yeah, they call that a chapel. Truly stunning and I would like to have heard that organ play. 

We went to lunch in the refectory at the School of Theology. Should have taken a picture, but had Zimbabwean Beef Stew, Fufu (a doughy African bread used for scooping food), and a curry cabbage dish. Everything was excellent. Afterward, we went over to one of the many libraries, where I saw an exhibit on Indigenous Peoplesโ€™ Graphic Novels/Comics.

Had to send several pictures to my friend, Faith. There were several pieces on The Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW).

The interesting thing about the exhibit was to see the evolution of the portrayal of Indigenous People in the graphic novels/comics.  From Scalphunter to Superhero…

That evening, the brother fixed us all a steak dinner, and I had the opportunity to finally begin to know my sister-in-law, Tori. So great. The conversation was very wide-ranging, and before it was over, I had ordered a specific translation of Danteโ€™s Inferno. Definitely looking forward to the read. I have shied away from it in the past because I did not understand all the historical references to persons and places. Tori says that it is not necessary. Seems it is a bit like Umberto Ecoโ€™s Foucaultโ€™s Pendulum–read and enjoy the larger story without getting too bogged down in the details.


Saturday with Mark and Tori

Tori had a meeting with their Quaker group, so Mark and I eased into the day. When we got moving, we headed to the University of North Carolina. Markโ€™s official title and position: MARK TOLES, PHD, RN, FAAN Professor; Beerstecher-Blackwell Distinguished Term Scholar & Senior Division Chair, Health Systems, Policy and Leadership Innovations. Heโ€™s pretty much got his act together.

We began the day at UNCโ€™s botanical garden. Way too many pictures to post here, but it was beautiful, even though late in the season.

Bald Cypress
Tithonia

Also in the garden was the cabin of Paul Green. I knew nothing about him, but I very much enjoyed seeing him. According to Wikipedia: 

Paul Eliot Green (March 17, 1894 โ€“ May 4, 1981) was an American playwright whose work includes historical dramas of life in North Carolina during the first decades of the twentieth century. He received the Pulitzer Prize for Drama for his 1927 play, In Abraham’s Bosom, which was included in Burns Mantle’s The Best Plays of 1926-1927.

His play The Lost Colony has been regularly produced since 1937 near Manteo, North Carolina, and the historic colony of Roanoke. Its success has resulted in numerous other historical outdoor dramas being produced; his work is still the longest-running.

The plaque behind the desk reads:

WHAT IS THE SOUL OF MAN?

I WALK THROUGH THE WOODS, AND I WALK THROUGH THE HILLS,
AND I ASK YOU TO TELL ME IF YOU CAN –
YOU KNOW WHAT A TREE IS, YOU KNOW WHAT A ROCK IS,
BUT WHAT IS THE SOUL OF MAN?

I SEARCHED THE BROAD EARTH, I BEGGED THE FAR SKY,
I QUESTIONED THE RIVERS THAT RAN,
BUT NEVER A WHISPER TO TELL THAT THEY KNEW
AUGHT OF THE SOUL OF MAN.

I BOWED DOWN AT EVENING, I BOWED LOW AT MORN.
I PRAYED FOR SOME SIGN OF LIFE’S PLAN,
WHEN LO, THE GLAD ANSWER, THE WORD WITH ITS LIGHT —
LOVE IS THE SOUL OF MAN.

FROM YOUR FRIENDS AT WILDERNESS ROAD

MARCH 17, 1979

Itโ€™ll probably show up in a sermon someday.

Mark also enjoys water painting. He is much better at it than I am.

We met Tori for lunch at Suttonโ€™s Drug Store, but unless a tasty chili cheeseburger is a drug, then it is now only a restaurant…. but what a burger, and yes, I got the t-shirt.

We continued touring the campus and saw a show at the planetarium (there may have been a nap involved during a portion of it) and then stopped at the Ackland Art Museum. We were all delighted with this visit, and it definitely made the day.

My favorite piece was Saint John the Evangelist by Valentin de Boulogne. He is listening so intently to the Spirit.

Richard Westallโ€™s The Sword of Damocles. The story behind the painting: 

The “sword of Damocles” refers to a situation where a person lives under the constant threat of an impending disaster or harm. The idiom comes from an ancient Greek anecdote where a sycophantic courtier named Damocles, who envied the powerful life of King Dionysius II, was offered to trade places with the king for a day. Damocles found himself in the king’s seat, enjoying the luxury, only to look up and see a sharp sword hanging precariously above his head by a single strand of horsehair, symbolizing the ever-present danger and anxiety that comes with power and fortune.

Finally, there was a fine etching by the German artist Albrecht Dรผrer titled The Babylonian Whore, a depiction of a scene from the Book of Revelation.


Saturday and Home

La Luna, รจ bellissima. A wonderful few days in North Carolina.

Travel: Italy (Day Two)

The day began with the sun glorifying the gold cross on top of the Duomo.

It was a wonderfully cool morning, so we walked up the street to Artigianaleโ€™s for a croissant and cappuccino. From there we made our way through the early morning bustle of the office workers and arrived at the Uffizi Gallery Florence precisely on schedule.

The Uffizi is like walking through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It just never stops. You will either suffer from Stendhal Syndrome (being overwhelmed by such wondrous works of art) or Florence Disease (simply by being overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of art.) And there is much to see.

And donโ€™t forget to look up, because the ceilings are just as beautifulโ€ฆ

As we finished we stopped for some fizzy water then made our way to the Santa Croce Basilica. So much beautyโ€ฆ

We sat with this view and spent some time in prayer before walking the inside perimeter and seeing the side chapels. I had no idea. This is the place where some of the greatest minds in history have been buried. When I say greatest, I meanโ€ฆ

And many more. The floor is a maze of grave makers so worn that you can no longer read the names and for me, I found myself walking around them or between them so as not to โ€œstepโ€ on anyone. From there we made our way into the church museum and again, just so much to seeโ€ฆ

It was then that I simply decided to focus on one small detail of the works we were seeing. It allowed the opportunity to truly absorb a small piece of what was being offered.

All this could only be followed up by some tasty food, so we made our way over to Oinos Ristorante / Pizzeria where I had lots of water, Penne al Chianti, and a nice glass of Chianti. We went on from there just wandering the city where we encountered the boar at the Boar Market and found a nice glass of wine in Signorvino along the Arno River.

Of all that Iโ€™ve been amazed with outside of the city, art, and food, it is the mass of people. So many here to take pictures of what they see but it does not seem that they take it in. They are moving so fast that it is not possible to form any real attachment to the art or to understand it. Thatโ€™s not a judgment, I just find myself standing in front one piece that โ€œspeaksโ€ to me and not really worrying about the rest. Lectio Divina is the method of reading until the text elicits a response from you. Seems art should do the same. You donโ€™t go until youโ€™ve seen everything there is to offer, you go until something speaks and then you let it write its message on your heart. Iโ€™m going to remember this as I make my way through the next two weeks.

The day ended with the sun setting behind the duomo.

Buoyant note, amici!

Journal: November 4, 2021

Photo byย Noah Buscherย onย Unsplash

Picture it: approximately 4:00 a.m. Sleeping peacefully in a queen size bed… all by your lonesome. Things are going well. Not too hot… not too cold. You’ve had the bed to yourself for several years, so you’re accustomed to roaming from one side to the other. This side is too hot… roll over to the to her… Ahhh…. nice and cool. Then tragedy strikes: at some point in the night, you’ve forgotten that you’ve rolled over to the other side and then there is the cat. The cat is hot. So, throughout the night you subconsciously move away from that precious little ball of fur (a.k.a. Her Royal Highness, the Queen of All that has Ever Been Created) and unbeknownst to you–Yes, Charlie, you’re on the very precipice of a 30 inch drop. What do you do? You roll over and…. “Shi……!” The first “whack” is to the head, right on the eyebrow and the second is to the shoulder. I do not recall the last time I fell off the bed (IF EVER!), but a few nights ago, I did just that. Even The Queen was embarrassed, although I did catch her laughing hysterically a few moments afterwards…. little bitc….. and now, here we are. I hope to go another fifty-six years without doing it again. By then, my bones will be so brittle that my skull will pop like a melon and I won’t have to endure a ridiculing cat!

The sabbatical, the great adventure on the Camino de Santiago… yeah. Probably not going to happen next year. Sigh. Still planning the trip to Rome and maybe even to Lisbon… definitely Rome. That one is already booked.

There has also been another project that I’ve been working on since December 20th last year with my friend (yes, I have one), The Rev. Sean Ekberg. Code word: COKO and I hope to be sharing with you soon as we’ve just about completed round one. We feel confident that this will be something for the entire Episcopal Church and pray that it will bring a bit of hope to us all… trust me: it’s good. It is very good! You’ll know it when it arrives and probably ask me to please stop promoting it. Enough! However, with that on its way, Fr. Anthony will have a bit more time to solve another murder. The Marble Finger must have its story told!

And I’ve picked up a new hobby… watercolors. This one is a challenge, but I find that I can do a bit of painting between other projects. Let’s the creative side have a walkabout without… I don’t know. It seems to go faster than writing, but I do need to be a bit more patient. Before putting a second color on top of another, there must be time for drying. Also, I’ve got to give the paints more time to do their thing as opposed to dabbing at it and spreading them. Leave them alone. They’ll spread on their on at their own time and make a much better picture. This is attempt #4 after watching a video. I actually kind of like it, but see the areas for improvement. I’ll keep practicing. Doesn’t really matter if you’re any good at this sort of thing. It really is about just enjoying the process and seeing what happens. Oh, and The Queen (she’s showing quite a bit in this post), she likes to drink the water that I wash the brush in. Weirdo. (Don’t tell her I said that.)

Thinking about going to NYC for a few days. Will take photos.

What I’ve learned: At some point, you have to start living. You can wait a lifetime to begin, but then that life will be over and you will be standing by the side of the desert road with your thumb stuck out while waiting for the ride that will never come. Start walking. Start walking and they’ll eventually find you and if your journey should take you into the desert where the cactus grow and the scorpions hunt… then watch your step and all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

Thought for the day: Modo liceat vivere, est spes. While there’s life, there’s hope. — Terentius. Preaching on this Sunday. It is the one thing that didn’t escape out of the box, but it is what Jesus brings.