Monday, August 21, 2006
Indigenous Identity
I was scanning through the handles on metachat this morning--rainbaby, amberglow, bunnyfire and others--and thought about research on weblog communication and identity taking place at a university in Sweden where I recently made contact with a doctoral student from Louisiana. Handles is probably not the correct cyber term, but it's sufficient for me as a non-technical philosopher, storyteller, and sometime instructor to the unmatriculated popular scholars of humanities I encounter in blogdom from day to day.
As an American, I think identity is something diasporaed Europeans are still getting a handle on, and it seems to help to communicate with our still-rooted relations on the peninsula and islands even if we haven't managed to travel there in person. Having had the good fortune to do so, though, I find it comforting to know that there is a place where we, too, have long histories, cultures, and tangible evidence that our pre-industrial ancestors developed an appreciation for the sacred comparable to the indigenous of this continent where we are still getting a feel for things.
This morning I looked at old photos of Penzance where we stayed for a week seven years ago, recalling our ensuite accommodation above the Dock Inn pub where we spent evenings with our Cornish hosts listening to local musicians play around the fireplace overlooking the harbor, and read about the Barbary pirates who once raided this remote outpost and provided Gilbert and Sullivan with a theme for one of their plays. And I remembered sailing on Mount's Bay on a fine summer day with a crew of sailors from the inn that we suspected were perhaps descendants of pirates, smugglers, and creative salvagers, but were now content to entertain tourists with local tales and standing stones in pastures nearby.
In times of social upheaval, it is good to know there is a place where you still belong.
As an American, I think identity is something diasporaed Europeans are still getting a handle on, and it seems to help to communicate with our still-rooted relations on the peninsula and islands even if we haven't managed to travel there in person. Having had the good fortune to do so, though, I find it comforting to know that there is a place where we, too, have long histories, cultures, and tangible evidence that our pre-industrial ancestors developed an appreciation for the sacred comparable to the indigenous of this continent where we are still getting a feel for things.
In times of social upheaval, it is good to know there is a place where you still belong.
As an American, I think identity is something diasporaed Europeans are still getting a handle on, and it seems to help to communicate with our still-rooted relations on the peninsula and islands even if we haven't managed to travel there in person. Having had the good fortune to do so, though, I find it comforting to know that there is a place where we, too, have long histories, cultures, and tangible evidence that our pre-industrial ancestors developed an appreciation for the sacred comparable to the indigenous of this continent where we are still getting a feel for things.
This morning I looked at old photos of Penzance where we stayed for a week seven years ago, recalling our ensuite accommodation above the Dock Inn pub where we spent evenings with our Cornish hosts listening to local musicians play around the fireplace overlooking the harbor, and read about the Barbary pirates who once raided this remote outpost and provided Gilbert and Sullivan with a theme for one of their plays. And I remembered sailing on Mount's Bay on a fine summer day with a crew of sailors from the inn that we suspected were perhaps descendants of pirates, smugglers, and creative salvagers, but were now content to entertain tourists with local tales and standing stones in pastures nearby.
In times of social upheaval, it is good to know there is a place where you still belong.
As an American, I think identity is something diasporaed Europeans are still getting a handle on, and it seems to help to communicate with our still-rooted relations on the peninsula and islands even if we haven't managed to travel there in person. Having had the good fortune to do so, though, I find it comforting to know that there is a place where we, too, have long histories, cultures, and tangible evidence that our pre-industrial ancestors developed an appreciation for the sacred comparable to the indigenous of this continent where we are still getting a feel for things.
In times of social upheaval, it is good to know there is a place where you still belong.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Siochain
"That is the difference I want to talk about, the fact that you keep imagining reality as if it were an artwork in which you have a choice, while in the tangible world there is no choice, you have to participate, you cannot step out of what is going on and into something else, there is nothing else except what is going on, whether you like it or not..."
--from the historical novel Gotz and Meyer by Serbian author David Albahari
--from the historical novel Gotz and Meyer by Serbian author David Albahari
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Saoirse
It's a bewildering world with many narratives competing for our attention. The stories told here and on our linked companion blogs tell an ancient one of equality woven together with a modern one of unity. Give yourself time to think about these narratives; then begin weaving your own. We need your help.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Failte
Welcome and make yourself at home. If you're looking for community and unity, take a journey through our various weblogs under links, or browse through some of the selected posts in the sidebar. And by all means, let us hear from you.
Slan
Slan
