These days, individuals can end up more isolated and self-involved than ever, with the shift from a "me-focus" to a "we-focus" proving difficult. Attention of any type, even if it’s harmful, tends to allure. This is when judgment gets clouded and mistakes are made. Age-old problems, like manipulation, take on fresh force.  No matter how technologically savvy we are—how many "friends" we have on Facebook—basic human-to-human "communication glitches" abound. These need to be dealt with in real-world time, and have real-world consequences. 

Manipulation comes from those whom we least suspect and expect  It creeps up and masquerades as kindness and generosity. Then, suddenly, there’s a wakeup call—a financial, emotional, or physical price to pay to the person who claims to be offering assistance/friendship "out of the goodness of their heart." Alas! The one who’d encouraged us to count on them really had their own agenda all along.  But, ultimately, even this manipulator loses too. The relationship needs to be severed and things can never be the same again. Trust and respect is gone, as well as a whole lot more. Time to move on, as this poetic reflection explains…

Dear Manipulator

You were so nice, so kind
I was so blind

You wanted to be there for me
Talk to me
Look out for me
Help me

Solve each and every problem you thought I had
All those things others never noticed

I don’t know where you came from
But suddenly you were there.

You were everywhere

I couldn’t do without you
But, in reality, you couldn’t do without me

I gave you purpose and cause
You thrived on applause
Being wanted, needed, and knowing

The more I tried to disentangle,
The more you tried to strangle

Disengaging was hard to do
Caused me more angst than you know

Disengaging was hard to do
But it enabled me to grow

When self-esteem is down and we don’t have adequate support networks, we are all the more vulnerable and susceptible to those who survive/thrive on manipulative behavior.  Manipulatolrs usually seek attention to help assuage their own wounds, longings, and lackings.  Exagerated gestures and finding ways to become indispensable may be a ploy to help the manipulator appear valuable to others, as well as important in the wider world.  But, tension mounts when the manipulated feels trapped or deceived.  Self-protection (hopefully) kicks in.  Breaking free takes courages.  It also leads to loss. But loss leads to learning.  Know better for next time!

Earlier blog entries that discuss related topics include:

Reciprocity, Feb 8, 2008

Give to Give, (poem), Sept 5, 2007

Keep Your Word, July 25, 2007

A and B List Friends, July 8, 2007

Friends Help Friends, December 7, 2006

Apple raises the bar on customer service and satisfaction, encouraging repeat business and spontaneous purchases. Win-win for everyone!

With their Procare and One to One assistance, you can get Apple technical support (for 15 mins) and/or personal instruction (for one hour) weekly.  Annual fees are very reasonable, and trainers savvy, friendly, and versatile.  Also, depending on location, canine assistants have been known to enjoy participating too!  

Lev and Sage are always eager to learn, and happy to observe from their travel bag.

 

Lev (as editor in chief of this blog) is pensive. 

Sage (as editor in chief of the DocSusan website) takes his job seriously (sometimes).

p.s.  Please note that the Eaton Centre Apple Store will be "undergoing renovations" mid-August for 10 weeks, so their space and services will be reduced during that time.

An evening stroll along one of Newport’s beaches, last Friday night, led us to a sandcastle.  From the front, it was a work of art.

Around the back, there was a marriage proposal inscribed (to which the answer was "yes," of course)

The shore line and waves looked pink, as did seaweed deposits washed up there—part of the red tide phenomenon.  

Then there were the clams; their shells, at least.  Gulls were fat, happy, and plentiful!

 

Earlier this week, I was excited to be part of a quartet that attended Dirty Dancing, at the Royal Alex Theatre in Toronto.  We took advantage of a mid-week special (four tickets for the price of three), making a spontaneous same-day purchase.  Sometimes, the best night’s entertainment happens when you don’t have long-term plans for it, but break routine.

Not only were the sets and costumes superb, but the cast was consistent and well-chosen.  This wasn’t the kind of show that had you wondering when the interval was going to happen. And beyond the actual performance, we were also struck by deeper story-lines, like that of a nuclear family with two adult-children.  

Siblings often have distinct personalities (and outcomes), and the daughters, Frances and Lisa, were excellent examples of this.  Sometimes, one child can be seen to do no wrong, and the other child, no right.  One has "higher goals" and she is misunderstood. The other ’s behavior is less commendable, but she’s more likely to get away with it (though not grow from her mistakes).  Also, parents often seem to forget their own pasts when making suppositions and demonstrating differential treatment.  Not knowing (or attempting to learn) all the facts, and making judgments for the wrong reasons can be problematic, unless non-family members have a chance to intervene.

Though much of the music was familiar, and there was a strong urge to want to go home and get dancing lessons, this staging of Dirty Dancing, it was clear, offered more than the immediately obvious.  Seeing the movie years ago, I’d been more focused on visual and auditory effects.  This time around (perhaps helped by the stellar performances of the leads) it was refreshing to be able to consider deeper messages and meanings. Lively afer-show discussion ensued!

 

Yet another accolade for Liverpool this month!  The Tate’s Klimt exhibit is a hit.  Last Monday, as an artist walking through, I became tearful in some places, identifying in different ways with practice, process, product, and response.  It was only on entering the gift store that I was disappointed.  A poster of the spectacular painting, "The Three Ages of Life," in my mind, had desecrated the original work.  It was up there for sale with only two stages of life—mother and child.  The old lady (old age) had been removed. 

As I start to make reproductions of my own artwork, I am extremely sensitive to what the artist might have thought about this crop.  A third of his vision had been removed without his consent or knowledge, and the greater meaning behind the piece damaged completely. Speaking to the manager of the gift store, I got an explanation.  It was all about commerce—financial returns.  She stressed how everyone cuts up Klimt, showing me images in a book of how fashion designers had made prints from excerpts of his work. This "nothing unusual" piece of merchandise (the two-thirds print) would sell better (allegedly have more mass market appeal) and bring income to the Tate.  It sounded like the message she was trying to give was that because the money would be coming back to the Tate (was not for "commercial benefit") that it was acceptable. As our conversation continued, the manager went on to tell me that postcards displaying the whole piece had already sold out, and there would be more later, once other images sold to make space again.

The postcard image that had sold out has been inserted at the start of this blog entry.  The two thirds image from the poster was also available at the store on a mini greeting card, and is inserted below.

 
The day after my visit to the Klimt exhibit (last Monday), the friends I’d been with there called to let me know that others were upset by the Klimt crop. The Guardian had just published a letter by a Maureen Everhsed which they’d headed "Age old problem."

I have been touched, today, by all the remarkable tributes to Tim Russert, NBC Bureau Chief and Moderator of Meet the Press.  Most Sunday mornings, his voice has been "background entertainment" while I’ve done household chores.  He was a fixture whom it was hard to imagine wouldn’t grace television news and debate well into old age. 

Tim’s sudden heart attack yesterday was yet another reminder to all of us that life is precious and we can’t have complete control, especially over its endings.  When someone as unique and admired as Tim is gone from our world in moments, without warning or preparation, we are stunned and ache.  From President Bush to regular viewers, everyone seems to have a reflection to offer, a deep fondness for this role model and outstandingly successful professional who remained a very down-to-earth family man and personal friend to so many.  My sincere condolences to all those dear to him.  He will be sorely missed.

At times like this, it’s hard not to think of more private individuals too, and their endings—those who haven’t enjoyed public success or recognition in their lives, those without family and friends who’ve supported and encouraged them. When their time comes, will it be recognized how their lives were meaningful or how much they could be missed?   How might things have played out differently for them, given a chance, voice, or simple luck?

It’s clear that we all leave our mark on the world in different ways, others’ impressions shaped by how we’re remembered or forgotten.  The following poem is dedicated to those who pass in greater silence and anonymity.  Maybe there was more to say about them, but there was no one to say it? Maybe their lives could have been happier and more fulfilled, but there was no one to spur them on? What might they have said if they could have written their own eulogies?  Perhaps this is one possibility?

AFTERWARDS

I was on top of the world
Or so you thought

Had achieved milestones,
Or so you thought

You didn’t know me well
You didn’t want to

You didn’t take me seriously
Though I asked you to…many times

You thought that I had more bounce-back than I did
You thought that I was stronger than I was

You thought that the day would never come
The day when I would succumb

I never did give up
Until now

I never did know how
Until now

I never wanted to
Hung on in the hope that things could change

More active
Less reflective
No, that didn’t work

More reflective
Less active
That didn’t work either

Needed, yes I was
If it was all about you

Admired, yes I was
If I lost myself in what I did

It was all up to me.

"That’s nice!", "Well done!"  "Good for you!" "Great job!" "Keep up the good work!" Kudos is always appreciated, with a little encouragement going a long way.  However, it’s not always forthcoming—especially at times when needed most, and from those we’d like to have issue it.  And then there’s that magical two-word phrase, frequently forgotten, "Thank you!"  

Whether you’ve cooked for dinner guests, made matches between acquaintances, or looked after a friend’s cat, it’s always nice to be acknowledged and appreciated.  But, the more you give out, too often, the less this happens.  Feeling overlooked and taken for granted, continually, can take its toll—make us behave in ways we might not instinctively.  Enter the era of the "cautious" and "jaded."  Sadly, the notion of "once bitten, twice shy", can ring louder than ever.  

Self-absorption, becoming a predominant character trait in western society, today, it’s not surprising that "Please" is missing from many people’s requests.  And, without a "Please," it’s unlikely there’ll be a "Thank you."  Positive change happens one person at a time—personal displays of good manners and respect helping more than might be realized.  Seeing how giving the gift of a "Please," Thank you," or "Well done" can boost someone else’s spirits, can be a great first step in feeling better about yourself too!

At the end of December (07), I was on a another transatlantic flight.  I’d just visited a family member who was sick and ended up sitting next to someone who was returning from her mother’s funeral. Personal experience with funeral trips, as well as long-distance illness concerns, compelled me to pull out my notebook and record these poetic reflections.

Planes

Planes are for vacations
celebrations

They’re also for illnesses
and deaths

They carry passengers in all kinds of states
At all kinds of rates

No everyone’s planned to be there
Not everyone’s without a care

Life doesn’t just happen on the ground
Feelings gush all around

Tear stained faces
Of heavy sorrow reveal ample traces

Planes for pleasure
And planes for purpose

Planes for good memories
And planes for bad

Planes for happy
And planes for sad

Distance and time
Time and distance

From one reality to another
Time and distance

From one reality to another
Planes transport us

To places we want to know
And to places we’d wish never to go

Some journeys are not ours to decide
But, from them, impossible to hide

Some journeys may seem worse than they are
All that thinking while traveling far

Neither here no there
There nor here

Landscape changing
Mental rearranging

Flight out
Don’t know what to expect

Flight back
Time to reflect

Planes are for all kinds of reasons
Of life, reveal the many seasons.

April 1, 2008, I switched on the The View half-way through a "Hot Topic" discussion.  It appeared to acknowledge dismay among 45s to 50s who haven’t accomplished what they’ve hoped to.  Factors that don’t make them feel any better were described as including lack of community and so many people being alone (especially women).  

Being so intensely engaged in my "Animal Magic" painting project (just switching on the television for "background"), I was aware I’d postponed posting blog entries that have been in the works for a while. This episode of The View prompted me to want to add to the discussion.  Relationship (or lack of relationship) disappointments, misperceptions, and day-to-day struggles are common to us all, which is why I believe it’s good share them. 

This blog entry’s "warm topic" draws attention to why some singles might ellicit more sympathy than others, and how perceptions might help shape realities…

Definitions:
1. The "Single Because" is single again.
2. The "Just Single" has always been single.
3. The "(Im)Perfectly Single" doesn’t like to be defined…

Some candid and common assumptions about each type:

The "Single Because" can prompt perceptions that include:
1.  Did succeed at one time
2.  Has been proven worthy
3.  Has had something to offer (and can again)
4.  Has suffered a "loss" that should be remedied (replaced)
5.  Needs help because of a changed situation
6.  Will benefit from being in relationship

The "Just Single" can prompt perceptions that include:
1.  Hasn’t tried hard enough
2.  Isn’t worthy of more
3.  Doesn’t offer enough
4.  Has no "special needs"
5.  Is not a priority
6.  Could be "difficult" in a relationship

The "Single Because" is widowed, divorced, or separated.  Both the "Just Single" and the "Single Because" might be single parents. The "(Im)Perfectly Single" might have "options," but still keeps on looking for that "impossibly-perfect other"—even if less than perfect, personally.  Perhaps that’s why the description, "Player," is easily substituted.  A "Player" is often charming, generous, good-looking, and smart.  But there’s usually a flip side:  self-absorbed, inconsiderate, insensitive, and cowardly, too.  Instead of focusing on, and trying to stick to one (really liked) other, this person can’t commit:  either "fades away" or ends things abruptly, a million excuses as to why things cannot work.

Those who seem to ellicit most sympathy, socially, are widowed or single parents.  The genuine distress their situations frequently cause can’t be denied.  But, some do know how to take advantage of circumstances—get extra help and attention that might not have come their way otherwise…

No matter one’s single status, a recent book, by Pari Livermore might be enouraging to those seriously searching, especially if female.  Called How to Marry a Fabulous Man, its Today Show feature told a little about Ms Livermore and her one-of-a-kind philanthropic dating service and philosophy, as well as her "31 ways to meet, catch, and keep Mr. Right." 

  

Even after studying beginner Italian for three semesters at the Toronto’s Italian Cultural Institute, and buying a bunch of self-help books and tapes, I wasn’t confident enough to speak the language once in Florence (for the Biennale). However, this didn’t detract from my enjoyment of being there, and sensing what was said and written—taking in the ambiance, mood, and energy. In Italy, la dolce vita (the good life) is energizing, especially when a stark Canadian winter sets in.  At a quick glance, here is some of what seems to matter:  art(s), food, hairdressers, individuality, laughter, playfulness, style, uniqueness

Food tastes different—fruit and vegetables smell like they’re supposed to (haven’t been forced or altered), and time is taken over meals. Friends gather in large groups and share what’s on the table—at home and in restaurants.  There’s a lot there, but servings are adequate, not excessive.  People learn how to dine, course by course, and interact while eating, from an early age.  They also are seen out walking on a daily basis.

There may be chaos surrounding organized events and activities, but everything gets done, just in time, and happens how it’s supposed to.  Along the way, it might be realized that biggest isn’t necessarily be best.  More intimate gatherings and personal/neighborly relationships prevail.  Instead of being home alone, many are out doing their daily grocery shop, or frequenting destinations in easy reach, by foot.  The streets bustle with locals engaged in habitual activities that have existed for generations:  going to mass, errecting and taking down market stands, or standing up for an aperitif and antipasto at a corner bar. Even well-known bursts of rain don’t stop everyday life, or visitors.

 

A few local tried and proven recommendations in Firenze include:  Carlo Bay: haircare; Cellai: hotel accomodation; Grom: gelato;  Madova: gloves; Muniaciello: pizza, cocktails, music, Rivoire: lunch, pastries, home-made chocolate; Zaza: fun, central trattoria; Zechhi: art supplies.

 

Please take a moment to be in touch with a friend who doesn’t have a Valentine, and let that person know how much they mean to you/you care about them.  A simple phone call or e-mail may be just enough!  If you’re happy—and fortunate to have attention from a "special other"—try to be extra sensitive to whose circumstances are different.  Though Valentine’s Day (February 14), gives many a cause to celebrate (and for commercialism), more folks than seems fair feel uncomfortable as it looms. This poem tells a little more:

VALENTINE’S DAY

Loved?
I’m not sure about that

What is love anyway
If you haven’t felt it?

What is love anyway
If another person hasn’t meant it?

What is love anyway
If you’re all alone?

If it’s you who makes the calls
If it’s you who cares about everyone else

What is love?

Please tell me
Because I don’t think I know

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

 

Add to Valentine’s Day, Ontario’s first annual Family Day, four days later, February 18, 2008.  Apart from proving an inconvenience for some in the business world, this second "relationship-rejoicing" day may add to singles feeling more out-of-place (a significant percentage of the local population).  According to February’s Village Post, its very name is "puritanical," and just begs for satire!

Reciprocity can be tricky sometimes. There are those who give in order to receive, those who give in order to mutually benefit, and those who like to take but not give back.  Those who give to give, no strings attached, are exceptional.

In real life, we see this with dinners, gifts, phone calls, and so much else.  Certain individuals always seem to offer a whole lot more for a whole lot less.

In cyberspace, gaining "reciprocal links"—like having "friends" on Facebook—has become a supposed indicator of success, popularity, and networking ability.  In recent weeks, I’ve noticed an increase in offers to exchange links, so as to raise Google rankings. But, what might "virtual-reciprocity" imply to the non tech-savvy? Because we exchange a link and list another web address on our site, does it mean that we endorse it too? If we decline a request to exchange a link, what is the message that we’re giving back?  That we don’t like or approve of it?  Will someone list us without us having to list them?

Because, for now, I don’t have distinct link lists, I try to include as many links as possible in blog entries and website text.  Requesters who’ve taken time to review my sites usually understand—and see a place where they might be inserted.

A Florence Biennale artist who has just requested a reciprocal link exchange is Ann Haessel. A fiber artist from Alberta, Canada, you might like to check out her site.  Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to see her work at the Biennale.

Other entries on this blog also offer perspectives on RECIPROCITY.  These include: 

Give to Give, (poem), Sept 5, 2007 

Keep Your Word, July 25, 2007

A and B List Friends, July 8, 2007

Friends Help Friends, December 7, 2006 

 

Everyone loves a new pup.  I love two older ones. LEV, the editor-in-chief of this blog, and my senior art studio assistant, is 11 years-old today!  (Poopal, Sage, was 8 in December.)  Still working and playing hard, Lev chose a nice new doggy bed and some chew bones from Prettie Yiji to mark her special day. She also let me buy the same for Sage. Dog-lovers, it’s really worth a visit to this one-of-a-kind Hazelton Lanes boutique. Not only did the owner offer a nice discount, he also added in an extra pack of treats for the birthday girl—and free delivery, on his way home after staying late.  Sometimes you can find better deals than at PetSmart and Pet Valu in the least likely places!  Special customer service and more unique merchandise are typical non-chain store advantages too!

 

The "January blues" are legendary. Then comes February, and moods sink lower. Is there anything that can be done to help? Some are too familiar with the pain (not just in January or February, but year round) and don’t need to have it explained (like in the poem below). Others are able to escape it— supports, special advantages, or attitude making things easier.  Living in warmer friendlier climates (or taking a sun break) can also be helpful.  But this isn’t always possible.  In cities such as Toronto, known more for aloofness and coldness than ambiance and joie de vivre, extra efforts need to be made.  It’s important to be aware of those around us, and check-in on them—include, invite, encourage, or reciprocate.  At least, try and offer a smile or "hello," even to someone you don’t know.

FEBRUARY FUNK

Looking good on the outside
Doesn’t dull the pain within

Do you know that pain?

Under the nose
In the throat
Around the eyes

An upset that you feel
Even if others don’t see

Do you know that pain?

Maybe you don’t
Likely you won’t

Do you know the sadness of
Loneliness
Hopelessness
Helplessness
Despair?

Seeing that others, clearly, don’t care

A "Please"
"Thank you"
"Sorry"
"Well done"
Might pick up someone else’s day

Few brave enough to show the way

Don’t ask "Why?"
Ask, "Why not?"

I’m thrilled to be contacted by those who enjoy my poetry. Earlier this month, Susan Kusel, of the Wizards Wireless Blog, wrote to ask permission to include excerpts from my Kilimanjaro series on her "Poetry Friday." Her brother, Russ, was due to climb Kilimanjaro, and she wanted to provide him with inspiration. How wonderful! Last week, after Russ returned from his successful ascent, Susan posted her own poem to honor his journey. Comments back to both blog posts, by readers, and Russ, himself, were, affirming, touching, and thought-provoking. Siblinghood at its best!

New relationships used to get off to more comfortable starts because respect, consideration, and life-cycle stages seemed to matter.  Each person involved (or wanting to be) had incentive to keep things going—sought greater interdependence and collaboration (believed in a better quality of life as a "two").  Today, distractions and alternative options are more alluring than working on what’s infront of you—and got good possiblities.  Eyes wander more than ever before—if not in actuality, virtually.  

Cyber—cheating prevents many new connections from growing as they might have, easy "escapism" too available. High potential matches are stumped before they are started.  Serious daters (looking for a monogomous long-term relationship) dance with serial daters (those ever-seeking perfect and better). Once serial daters get what they think they want, it looses appeal and the chase becomes more exicting than the catch. On to the next!  Some endings are abrupt.  Others "fade away," one (cowardly) person knowing what they’re doing, the "worthier other" being left disappointed or surprised.

There used to be a commonly followed "three-date" practice (not to judge too quickly). Today, even second chances are hard to come by.  If someone isn’t perfect—better quality than the person ruling them out, from the very first encounter or because of an "off-moment"—there’s no hope for continuity or tolerance.  Why waste time with someone who might be human—have as many flaws as you do?  A quick fix, rather than hard work (as necessary for most everything else) prompts expectations…and disappointments.

Bravo to "Bravo" for alerting us to Patti Stanger’s Millionaire Matchmaker team!  Thanks for displaying that guys one would think "apppropriate" aren’t necessarily ready—still fantasizing over unrealistic catches, or need "fine-tuning."  A show that is "out-of-the-box" in its showcasing of a service that attempts to coddle those who pay to seek what even money can’t buy. That aside, Patti’s Dating Commandments are worth checking out (millionaire or not).

Heath Ledger’s unfortunate death has generated much discussion about its nature—whether it was accidental or not. From the LA Times to Time (and beyond), it’s become a major news story!  Close family and friends of the deceased insisted right away on "accidental causes." Noone likes to think about, admit to, or acknowledge the "S"(uicide) possiblity, at anytime.

Media have provided a lot of extra/invasive hype, with many presumptive questions.  Naturally, suggestions of foul play abound, with analyses of the actor’s distresses.  Whatever the truth might actually be, we’ll never really know. Sadly, the one person who could have told us isn’t around anymore.  Apparently, he was found alone, face-down and naked on his bed, by service providers (his housekeeper and his masseuse).  Close family were thousands of miles away, and the face that Ledger gave to the world in his many outstanding film performances was, obviously, not the face he wore privately (of late).

Ledger was famous. That’s why we get to hear, see, and read about him, and his final days and hours.  But, there are many other individuals, just like this movie star, dying every day—and in our own midst. Their burnout, despair, frustration, and loneliness cannot be remedied effectively.  Accidents and non-accidents happen, closer to home and all the time…

No matter the nice things said and done after a "loved one" is gone, nothing can make up for what was not said and done when he or she was alive (manifesting that all wasn’t right). The "take-home message" is to be more mindful of those around us continually—and sensitive to our interactions with them.  We truly never know how we might affect someone else, and what the consequences might be.  What’s not a big deal for you, might be for someone else. Everything adds up.  And, sometimes, just one more disappointing encoounter may be that one more too many…

This following simple poem, "Depression Alert," is an important one to remember. I included it (below) in tribute to Ledger. His untimely death provides an opportunity to share sentiments that might not have gained exposure otherwise.  Think of those with whom your life intersects. Perhaps they need a little more attention, consideration, and follow-up than you’ve been able to give them till now.  We may all be "busy," but…

DEPRESSION ALERT!

The places you don’t go
Clothes you don’t wear
People you don’t see

Others’ imaginings…

A life of ease
Please don’t tease

The pain
Nothing you can explain

Torment deep within
Understanding thin

Not who they think you are
Distance very far

Spoken up and not heard
Silent and more congenial

Another funeral.

 

(Photo:  those who made it to the top of Kilimanjaro, with self and guide) 

Even though my Kilimanjaro climb is less recent, certain lessons from it are memorable.  These include:

1.   Better sustain the cold
2.   Bathe less extravagantly
3.   Economize on clothes and possessions
4.   Stop clock-watching
5.   Take things more slowly
6.   Observe and listen
7.   Not fuss about comfort and convenience
8.   Require less sleep
9.   Sleep in uncomfortable conditions
10. Eat more simply and be less picky
11. Not need news from elsewhere
12. Take time out from electronics (TV, Internet, cell, etc.)
13. Push self further and harder, and not complain or avoid
14. Get less flustered about externals/what can’t be changed
15. Focus, no distraction, whereever and whenever
16. Chat with strangers and hear their stories
17. Open up to seizing the moment
18. Get back to basics (with everything!)
19. Assess what really matters
20. Be more fearless

Just like New Year’s resolutions, lessons learned on the trail can be hard to follow long-term, especially when there’s so many of them (and potential obstacles).  Though everyday hastles aren’t exactly the same as chance-in-a-lifetime climbing challenges, circumstances and reactions mightn’t be too different!

Poems 15 and 16 provide closure to my Tanzanian travels—reveal their legacy and an after-trip evaluation of sorts.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)  Next, I’ll share the lessons of Kilimanjaro, which, I believe, helped prepare me for the Florence Biennale experience!

15.  From JRO to YYZ

It wasn’t paradise
But it was very nice

To feel, do, see without a care
In the moment
Just to be there

Coming home, not as fun
Things have changed
Inspiration won

No more half-measures
New ideas as treasures

Different perspective
More reflective

Attitude of mind
No longer to be left behind

Taking chances out of reach before
Fresh possibilities
Wide open door

Wanting more
Needing less

Pushing harder
Evaporating stress

What matters
Finding happiness

Goals simplified
Reality intensified.

16.  Trip Evaluation

Missed what was in front  
When looking behind

Missed what was within
When looking without

Regrouping, regathering
Soaping up and lathering

Coming home’s been a process
Messages mixed
Needing to be fixed

Coming home’s been a rebirth

Opportunities to do not as before
Paving the way for a whole lot more

Magic in the moment
Risk ahead of reason

Adventure needs to live
So much to give

Magic in the moment
Life is short

If we don’t do it soon
Chance is we never will

Staying with the feeling of the climb
Not wanting to run out of time

Need to make it to the top again
No matter when

No more struggle
No more muddle

Some know how
Others know now

Never want to say
I knew then

Power of doing
No more brewing

Living each new day
In a special way

Recognizing what’s good
The important understood.

 

 
Poem 14 was written on the journey home.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

14.  2 Degrees C in Toronto—Light Snow Falling

It’s a long way back from Africa
Dreams fade to realities
Magical moments diluted in airports

Travel companions shift gear
Though you’d like to hold them near

What’s been put on hold has time to unfold

2 degrees Celsius in Toronto, light snow falling
Announcement on landing

Welcome back to a world where simple pleasures easily lose focus
Ready to journey away again

Planning for what, where, when
Already.

 

Poem 13 describes final game sightings, heralding the trip’s conclusion.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

13.  Day 9

Penultimate game drive
Not as alive

Sightings less prolific
Nothing scientific

Simply, the end of the trip is nigh
Almost time to say goodbye

From more to less populous parks
Expectations and excitement, less sparks

Nature full of wonder
At the right place
In the right moment

We’ve felt it
We’ve been there
We long for it
We’ll remember it

Big beast of a jeep
Adrenaline rush
Hush!

Two cheetahs to the right
Lolling under a tree
New feeling of glee

When it’s over it’s over
Or so you think

"Hakuna Matata!"
Staying cool helps

"Caribou!"
A welcome that lasts

A family of giraffes to the left
Mother, father, three calves

Gracefully and elegantly close our trip
Of magic a real sip.

 

Poems 11 and 12 describe personalities we met along the way—highlight less typical cultural exchanges and adaptations.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

11.  Safari—Day 7

Bats by night
Bows by day

Our last tented camp
Another sleep entertained rest
Malarone dreams, the best

Wildlife squawking and screeching
Tent solid
No breaching

Electricity and water rationed
Camp hostess impassioned

Lovely Argentinean married to German
Children speak Swahili

A goddess in beads and white linen
Male travelers’ heads spinen

With the Hadzabe tribe they get to strut their stuff
Shoot arrows—just enough

Another cultural exchange

Bracelets and necklaces at a price
Reciprocity nice

Journey back
Dust hard to swallow.

12.  Safari—Day 8

Masai village resort
A transitional place
Others set the pace

Texan in charge
Enables aspiring talent to live large

Neither country nor city folk
A different life they know

A cultural exchange, quick training
Everyone gaining…or not

Masai musicians and acrobats at dinner
Later they guard our rooms
With spears, not brooms

What are they thinking?
What are we thinking?

Merging the ancient with the modern
The affluent with the down-trodden

Begging inevitable
Who are the culpable?

A future that’s hard to surge
Paths diverge

For me, not a happy feeling
We lie in our cozy beds at night
Their experience, more of a fight.

 
Poem 9 explains how campers’ fatigue had set in.  Poem 10 describes a more active way of taking in the landscape and meeting its people—cycling.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

9.  Safari—Day 6

Chips, spaghetti, canned veg and mince
Usually food that would make me wince

Last tented lunch
Ready to munch

At this point
Anything tastes good
Stomach understood.

10.  Safari—Day 7

African biking
Like its hiking

Dust, gravel, and rocks
Patience and caution
With the posterior so much contortion

The morning wind makes the awkward feel easy
A ride that’s surprisingly breezy

But, then comes the midday sun
For now, nature has won

After lunch under a shady tree
Enough for me

Banana stop
Chapatti stop
Along the way, lost en route, the momentum to stay

Village children draw near
No fear
Our food they’ll hold dear

And so our uneaten lunch we pack into a box
Gently, sweetly, the little ones share
Then comes the fox
Out of his lare

Village bully grabs what he can
That wasn’t our plan

The afternoon sun scorches
Our support vehicle hot as torches

A puncture needs to be fixed
Another adventure
Nothing nixed

Another day in Africa
Luxuriating in the moment
Not thinking about what might be elsewhere
Details swirl, but no heavy care.

 

Poems 6, 7, and 8 describe experiences in the Ngorongoro Crater area, where wildlife was more sparse and a slight safari-fatigue was manifesting.  (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

6.  Safari—Day 4

Into the crater we go
Flat topped Acacias
Then burnt brush
Followed by a nothingness

Hush, hush

An arid plain
Wind blowing
Few animals showing

A solitary ostrich struts her stuff
Finally a photo op.
No fears

Two old lions peruse
One ready to snooze
The other leaves to wander
Has us gazing yonder

A couple of bull elephants take a drink
"They’re old," our guide tells us
That this is a retirement area, it makes us think

Today, the energy’s not there
Day four, our expectations higher, for more to see
But that’s not reality

The Serengetti had us in another place
A faster pace
Multiple herds
More than just a trace.

7.  Monkey Picnic

Monkey picnic
Very slick

Jeeps move in
Monkeys too

Closed the roof too late
Monkey in
Monkey out
No time to hesitate
Monkey see
Monkey do

Cookies from the front seat gone
Greedy monkey eats every one

Other monkeys surround
No contest
He knows how to play the round

And soon the pack is gone

Working each hand
He makes a stand

A snarl as the camera nears
Really upped my fears

Bold male
Cannot fail

Young mother near
But away they steer

Tiny babies suckle
One of nature’s wonders
We chuckle.

8.  Afternoon Drive

Look and you shall see
If it’s meant to be

Pressure on to find a Rhino
Or, to let it go

An on the way, so much more found
By chance
Hyenas, Flamingos, Wildebeest abound

From a distance,Rhino finally spotted
Photos taken of profile

Though not close
Of excitement provides a dose.

 

Poem 5 describes the most potent people experience—with the Masai. (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

5.  Masai

Masai Masai everywhere

Truck in ditch
Makes them rich

One jeep pulls over to help another
Then smother smother

Children on backs of other children
The breast fed
The underfed
The snottied nose
The rings on toes

Picture, picture
Bracelet, bracelet

Haraka, haraka
Quickly, quickly

Little girls pushing sales
Make interesting tales.

Three or free
Hard to understand

From our end
Nothing planned
Clearly a routine
Can’t be mean

Dust fills the air
Nearly there

Tow chain breaks
Up go the stakes

3 jeeps hooked together
Now drizzly weather

2 pet dogs play
While in the company of the Masai we stay

Fantasies of passing the night in their huts
Could think of worse ruts

Small change spent
Time for the sinking sand to relent

Spontaneous visit done
A lot of fun
Everyone won.

 

Poems 3 and 4 are the second two Serengeti poems. (Please don’t forget to check out the other Tanzania Safari Poetry blog posts before and after this one.)

3.  Safari—Day 3/1

Warm breeze
Flapping tails
Zebras relaxing
Nothing taxing

A third game drive
The bush comes alive

Golden glow of changing light
Snow far out of site

Clear pale blue sky
Faint dustings of clouds

Another day in the life of the bush
Hush, hush

Jeep chatter
It really doesn’t matter

Nature all around
Not a sound

Waiting for something to be
Scouring for something to sight

A fight
A kill
Whatever will

Procreation
Defecation
Sensation
Elation

Ours or theirs?

Worries and cares
This hour we have none
Except with nature
To be at one.

4.  Safari, Day 3/2

From vegetation
To arid plain

From pale blue skies
To billowing clouds

From brush
to rocks

Hush in the jeep
The talkative one’s asleep

Too much excitement for one morn’
Lion cubs newly born and suckling
Lionesses devouring prey
Nothing very far away

Buffalo resting under trees
Buffalo drinking, not thinking
Diet coke can floating down stream
Garbage in a wilderness shattering a dream

Driving fast to leave the park
The vista becomes more stark

A tree here and there
Impala without a care
It’s shade they share

Alone or en groupe
They’re quite a troop

Then nothing for a while
Till jamming of breaks
Up go the stakes

Cheetah under tree

National Geographic yellow jeep
Wide angled lens pops out
Not a peep.

 

Many Kilimanjaro climbs are followed by a safari, and ours was no exception.  Also, poetic reflections kept on coming, and will be included in the blog posts immediately following.  You might also like to look back at my other poetic safari experiences from 2006:  general observations, as well as those specific to experiences in Botswana and Zambia. 

The 16 poems from the Tanzania trip have slightly different emphases and perspectives. Though there are many aha moments, the magic of first-time marveling isn’t quite as pronounced.  Also, having just climbed Kilimanjaro, any experience, no matter how special, is hard to juxtapose.

All 16 poems will be posted chronologically (over 9 blog pieces, which includes this one).  The first four poems were written in the Serengeti, which, for me, was the most potent wildlife experience. 

Poems 1 and 2 are the first two Serengeti poems.

1.  Safari, Day 2

The chorus starts well before dawn
Songs and signals
The volume rises

And still it’s dark outside
Beyond our tents so many animals hide

It’s their space
Not ours
We’re visitors here

Zipped in for the night
Nothing should we fear

Escort with bow an arrow led the way
And, in our tents, we’re supposed to stay

Window canvas open, mesh protecting
A dark clear sky is all we see
Starry, starry, starry night.

2.  Safari Recap—Day 1 - 2

Antelope, gazelles, jackals
Warthogs, lions with cubs
Hyenas and leopard
Elephants, giraffes, zebra
Wildebeest
Hippos, swallows, vultures…

To name but some that we saw
A thirst for more

And, disappointed we weren’t
Next day, a whole day drive
The feeling of being so alive

Watching in wonder and awe
Just as you thought you’d seen the best
Then came more

Dead zebra and hypo
Natural deaths

Dead jackal
Road kill

Wounded and bloodied zebra
Lion kissed but missed

Another lion charging for prey
Not fast enough
All ran away

At the watering hole they knew what to do
Flap their tails, grunt, and cry
None of them were going to die

Solitary bull giraffes
Gave us interesting views
But, a herd of elephants, our very best news

Monkeys preened
Baboons watched over lionesses and their cubs

Tourist-contained jeeps gathered in hubs

Hippos—a hundred or more
Wallowing in their pooh
The biggest outdoor loo

Crocodiles and birds provided picturesque backdrops
So many stops!
A Hamerkop’s giant nest
Oxpacka birds’ symbiosis with giraffes

So many herds
So many terds.

 
The two poems that follow look at transitioning back to reality—our own world of others and the Tanzanian roadscape that we found ourselves traveling through (Kilimanjaro, behind and above the clouds and the meaning it may imbue, personally and locally).

8.  Explaining to Others

Explaining to others
Is hard to do

The pain, the gain
The fight, the plight

The keeping going
The inner knowing

The turning of day into night
And night into day

Snow, ice, wind
Burned our faces
Wounds as traces

We know we were there
Our bodies too

But, pinch me now
To put into words
That others can understand

Peek experiences
Intended to be shared

Special moments are private
But things done together
No matter the weather
Give other rewards

A chance of a lifetime experience
Something to hold dear
Especially when others with you have been near.

9.  On the Road

Dust and dirt
Fumes and noise

Back to a reality of sorts

The adventure continues

Skinny goats and cows
Bones protruding

Roadside huts and store fronts
Locals milling
Even for a shilling

Coca Cola clearly the drink of choice
Celtel the monopoly for text and voice

The two biggest advertisers influence
But, where’s the opulence?

You decide

Rich dyes and prints
Each unique
Make wonderful clothes

Women with basket trays of bananas on head
Make a colorful scene
As do their children
School uniforms pristine

About the rest
It’s hard to know yet

Smiles on faces
Police checkpoints enforced

An order amid chaos
Slowly, slowly—pole, pole

Donkeys travel the same road as cars
But many locals walking and talking
Active and out there

Not the most progressive place in the world
But, does that matter?

Western eyes quick to judge
Western minds quick to nudge

Leave these people be
If they’re in harmony

The vibrancy of the plants say it all
Potted for purchase on the curbside
Jacarandas high above
A haze of blue and mauve

Bougainvillea
Dashes of pink
Makes you think.

 
The following two poems look at impact:  after-climb thoughts and reflections.

6.  Day 8—After Climb

Up there
Down here

Down here
Up there

Losing the fear

What once seemed difficult
Might not longer be

What once was out of reach
Attainable in reality

2 days on
The climb is but a dream

2 days on
Thoughts of home flow in

The wanting to stay in this space
Not that

The wanting more time away
Just to play

The wanting to shift
From an environment that doesn’t gel
Where the air is stale
And people pale

The wanting to be in the now, not just today
Feel alive in every way

Vital, intense, passionate, active
The Kili climb reminded me…

Who I was and how I can be.

7.  Day 8—Camaraderie

With some you can
And others you can’t

With some you will
And others you won’t

There’s no knowing who, where, what, when
Except by how you feel
And what you’re enabled to do

The right group
At the right time
In the right moment

Being confident of others around
Made everything feel sound

Knowing we were on the same team
Made hurdles a dream

Familiar and not
About each other we learned a lot

But, oh so much more to know

Seeds of friendship to grow
Or, just right for the circumstance

A special connection, no matter what
A great beginning
Kindred spirits as they are
Not fancied up in a jar

Bonds that’ll mature
Or, bonds that’ll slow?

Magic and mystery surround
Coincidence and luck abound

Staying open is what counts

Continuing onward, upward, forward
No markings on the trail ahead
Spontaneity instead.

 
The first of the next two poems describes approaching the final ascent.  The second records having made it to the top.

4.  Day 5

Nearly there
In the world without a care
Except getting there

What an accomplishment to make it
Real and raw
No way to fake it

What a dream to be above the clouds
See the winding paths we have traveled

Step by step
Minute by minute
Ache by ache
We’re closer to our goal

This time tomorrow
Pole by pole
To the top of Kili we’ll stroll

Winded, worn, and wary
There’ll be nothing scary

What a climb
What a rhyme
Just in time

To complete something others don’t dare to try
Cautiously
Carefully
And with a sigh

What an opportunity
A privilege
A gift

From doing nothing else there can be such a lift

In the moment
Or telling what was
No need for any because

And, what comes next
Who knows?

Applying lessons learned along the Machame Way
To a very different N. American every day.

5.  Day 6, Kili Ascent:  Success

Strong in body
Strong in mind

Strong in mind
Strong in body

To do things out of the ordinary
In ways that are extraordinary

To watch others trying them too

Those who can
Those who can’t

Those who could
Those who would

Those who did.

 
The two poems that follow here are mid-climb, on a long Day 4.

2.  Kilimanjaro, Day 4/1

Equal when challenged
Challenged when equal

The day is long
The body becomes strong

And so too the mind

Others’ responses you can’t always gage
Except with Kilimanjaro as stage

Those who like to talk
And those who don’t

Those who give signals in other ways
A posture, a glance, a shrug
Even a little tug

Camaraderie versus competition
Encouragement versus criticism
Affection versus rejection

A group spirit endures
To everyone, a round of applause.

3.  Kilimanjaro, Day 4/2

Candy wrappers show the way
Who would have thought?
Toilet paper marks the spot
Who would have known?
Cell phone signals around most bends
Who would have guessed?

All true—no jest

Then there’s nature…

Volcanic scree
Treacle scented flowers
Cactus palms that look like people
Caves and rocks
Clouds moving in and out
And through the mist, a burst of blue
The bluest blue you’ve ever seen
In reality, or on screen

A movie this climb is not
It’s so much more

Altitude sickness
Drug reactions
Freezing cold
And outdoor toilets
Offer experiences never had before

The ch