
Isadora Duncan…
Crikey!.. I’ve been roped into some bizarre things by some very strange ladies in my younger years, God bless their souls and tantric postures! But a bloke often gets swept away by that feminine mystique for the strange, spiritual and bizarre…and crikey!..I ask you other chaps; who are we to deny them?
Take the time I was “encouraged” to be a part of this “Dromenon Labyrinth Circle” gathering.. hey!…I was young, I was keen!..Just what is a Dromenon anyway!
” One set comes from the Gnostic tradition of the Chartres School, and the other from Sufi beliefs.”..(wiki’)Well, there you go !..and I had in mind ‘Greeks bearing grifts’..
Many years ago I was “involved” with a lady deeply immersed in the psychic business..hey! I don’t make these things up , you know !! And so I was taken on the psychic trip with the Full Monty..(what’s that Groucho Marx ‘aside’ : “I was in love once and I got the “business!”) I still have a couple of pics stashed somewhere with myself and a couple of the other faithfuls holding “talking sticks” with some loosely tied chook or crow feathers on them as a kind of symbolic “connection” to “our spiritual ancestors”…..and why not?…my grandfather did breed chooks after all..and granny had her turkeys !…But it was at one of those weekend workshops where people go back into their past lives and discover their tribal roots….Marvellous how so many Native American Indian princes there are in the anglo-saxon gene pool!….Of course, one wouldn’t like to discover a spiritual ancestor who was ..say ; of an Outer Mongolia prince…the image of “horde”, “massacre” and Genghis Khan springs to mind…the same with those Germanic types…: Attila and all that!…no, no (and pardon my ignorance in these matters)…safer to wander the ancient forests of Seattle with Pocahontas or Running Bear on ‘the shores of Gichigoomie’ (spelling ?)..after all ..all they did was hunt buffalo and make jokes about two dogs!
But I had to give that relationship away when it got to joining in public performances of full-moon circle-dancing on suburban beaches….I mean..fair go eh?…there’s only so far a young bloke can be expected travel for some things..eh? (sometimes the journeying ISN’T better..etc, etc ).And I do make note here that I’m a great believer in the spiritual myself..why..I’m almost a Buddhist, y’ know? …(Author’s note: I have since switched to The Rosicrucians, for whilst the Buddhists expect one to meditate and chant incessantly, The Rosicrucians don’t expect you to do anything!….a no-brainer for me)…
There was this moment at one of the monthly meetings of “The Dromenon Circle”, where we were all expected to bring some example from our day-jobs that would show the spiritual connection between our everyday working life and our inner soul…As you know, I was in the building trade….heavy then…full on!….I thought of Ron th’ brickie…and my mind went blank on spiritual connection somewhere between sweating and swearing..after all..the “thing” in building for the tradie, is the pragmatics..the finishing of the product….or as James Joyce said to his portrait painter (wtte) ;… “Don’t worry about the spirit of the thing, just get the tie right!”
So then I made models of three different wooden joints as an example of the advance of human vanity from the ancient Egyptians with a heavy-beam “scarf-joint” for spanning across the supporting pillars of temples, to an early concealed “fox-joint mortise and tenon” used in high-class chair manufacturing, to the creme-della-creme ; “three way concealed dovetail” joint for use on the corners of display cabinets…I thought they were symbolic of the innate desire in humans to conceal the structure of a thing, yet contain the strength of construction with the beauty of a thing….that sort of stuff…I know, I know..getting a tad philosophical for a chippy, but that’s the kind of bloke I was…jeez!..they took some time and effort to make..esp’ the three-way-dovetail..YOU try it!..But then, in spite of the work slaving over them,( and isn’t it ironic how ignorance of a thing is so swiftly followed by a lack of interest in the thing) you see…they were a little too “industrial” to be given much more than a curious glance, a wrinkled nose..nothing spiritual it seems in the actual working structure of things, whereas so much more in the aesthetic facade…the evil grin of the gargoyle always gets more attention than the masonary corbel supporting it.
So that was my experience with labyrinths…I walked them, I talked them…I did a lot of listening about them…them and Joseph Campbell on mythology…jeez! he put out a lot of books and tapes..cheerful bugger..that’s it..; Cosmology…there’s a science there somewhere, I’m sure of it….Though I’m buggered if I know…one can only travel so far down someone else’s road..and then it seems that while they are spiritually walking a “field of wild-flowers and buttercups”, all you are seeing is brambles and thorns….there comes a time to walk another path…perhaps a ; road less traveled.
But I do recall that “parting moment” that severed the relationship…preceded by my involuntary lip-pinched, spittle-flecked guffaw…
I was “encouraged” to take part in that “circle-dance” in the first moon cycle on the beach at Henley Beach. We were sitting on the sand there at the bottom of the steps of the jetty, waiting for “Marcie” who at that moment appeared at the top of the steps…
“Oh look!..” one person whispered, “She isn’t wearing her glasses….you know, she’s been taking that potion to strengthen her vision and she has been seeing “Joyce” about ‘overcoming with her mind’ so she can stop using her glasses”….
Indeed, there she was, head poised staring straight ahead, hand on the rail stepping elegantly with pointed toe straight toward us measured step by step with all the grace of a queen….we sat there staring in silence, in awe….then at the foot of the steps, while staring dead straight at us, she suddenly threw a leftie and started to walk away up the beach!…….yes..yes…blind as a bat!….
”Marcie, Marcie” we called…………..I tried to muffle a snigger….and that was when I got “The Look”…..
Yes, we all have our memories, what was, what could have been . . . .
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Colour in the canvas, Uta..
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The more colour the better, Joe . . .
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A regular “Jackson Pollock” of a life, eh? 🙂
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Dear Joe
You are amazingo . One of last great spinners of a decent yarn. I have to admit I enjoy all your yarns especially as know many of the people personslly
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Thank you, Len…well..you know..the old memory nags and nags until I put them down…and hey!…didn’t we all have a great time there in Kingston Park growing up?….the beaches, the gullies, the sand dunes….a real kids paradise!
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