“Ay, There’s The Rub” Or Hamlet Dreams Of Pork Belly, Marinade, Northern Forests And Charles Mingus.

Boulders and lakes and forests, oh my.  Långsjön calls me each morning to circle its depth of sky and water and trees.  A walk of ritual and greeting with the light ever pouring out green and blue into the air.  And in the middle, slowly turns a white platform from which you may dive into the … Continue reading “Ay, There’s The Rub” Or Hamlet Dreams Of Pork Belly, Marinade, Northern Forests And Charles Mingus.

Laphroaig Càirdeas 15 With The Right Amount Of Ritual And Discipline.

“Through the performance process itself, what is normally sealed up, inaccessible to everyday observation and reasoning, in the depth of sociocultural life, is drawn forth” as Victor Turner writes in From Ritual To Theater.  Purchased this particular Laphroaig Càirdeas at the distillery and I’ve been looking forward to opening canister and bottle and exploring its … Continue reading Laphroaig Càirdeas 15 With The Right Amount Of Ritual And Discipline.

“I/Thou” Walking Into The World As Such With Simone Weil, Aldo Leopold, Wendell Berry And Thales While Listening to Sviatoslav Richter, Jeremy Denk And Igneous Rocks.

You could read the words of Simone Veil from Gravity and Grace, Let the soul of the man take the whole universe for its body.  Let its relation to the whole universe be like that of a collector to his collection, or one of the soldiers who died crying out “Long live the Emperor!” to … Continue reading “I/Thou” Walking Into The World As Such With Simone Weil, Aldo Leopold, Wendell Berry And Thales While Listening to Sviatoslav Richter, Jeremy Denk And Igneous Rocks.

Some Thoughts About Volcanoes, Emily Dickinson, Peat And Burning-Places, Martin Heidegger At Home With Tools, And William Blake’s Marriage While Tool Breathes.

As I write this the Stromboli volcano off the coast of Sicily has been spewing smoke, gas, bits of the inner earth, molten material overall into the air and sea.  Columns and plumes of smoke, mushrooms and horses’ heads speak primal warnings to us that something from below has risen.  Reminders that under the appearances … Continue reading Some Thoughts About Volcanoes, Emily Dickinson, Peat And Burning-Places, Martin Heidegger At Home With Tools, And William Blake’s Marriage While Tool Breathes.

Bruichladdich Octomore Masterclass 8.2 With A Tasting Of King Crimson 1973 And 1974 Varietals And Plenty of Nosings From Andrew Jefford, Carl Jung And Ian Richardson Reciting William Blake.

A moment of light and shadow, color and line, up and down, sky and lake, what appears and what appears reflected, all seem to hinge on the surface of the water or the surface of the air, take either one, and by taking one breath and falling up or leaping down, two worlds exchange places–the … Continue reading Bruichladdich Octomore Masterclass 8.2 With A Tasting Of King Crimson 1973 And 1974 Varietals And Plenty of Nosings From Andrew Jefford, Carl Jung And Ian Richardson Reciting William Blake.

Walking To Ardbeg With The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, Words From A Whirlpool, Scattered Cows And Sheep, And Egill Skallagrímsson’s Drinking Toast.

Four mile trip from Port Ellen to Ardbeg distillery.  We’re walking from our cottage northwest of the town, so add another half mile.  We start in pastureland bordered by conifer plantations. Sheep graze outside the window in the morning, and further on cattle graze and gaze. Smell of pine resin, manure and sea salt as … Continue reading Walking To Ardbeg With The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, Words From A Whirlpool, Scattered Cows And Sheep, And Egill Skallagrímsson’s Drinking Toast.

A Drinking Man Arrives On Islay, Has A Pour Of Lagavulin, Watches Sea and Stone, Looks At A Thistle And Listens To Robert Fripp’s “Abandonment To Divine Providence.”

Water, grass, thistle and stones.  Rocks.  Arriving on Islay means close quarters with quartzite, limestone, slate and shale with many cresting intrusions called sills of metamorphic rock abundant through the southeastern part the island known as Kildalton.  As Andrew Jefford writes (and I’ll return to his wonderful prose often from Peat Smoke And Spirit) . … Continue reading A Drinking Man Arrives On Islay, Has A Pour Of Lagavulin, Watches Sea and Stone, Looks At A Thistle And Listens To Robert Fripp’s “Abandonment To Divine Providence.”