Magical Muheim Movie

ALRIGHT!   At long last this movie is online for the world to see.

Its been almost a year since this movie was shot. 

 What a fabulous experience it was.  It was a key moment in my artistic development: realizing how fantastically more fufiling it is to work with others rather than toiling all alone on a singular piece in one's studio. Not only is the artistic potential exponentially more grand, but it is soooo much more fufiling and downright fun.

Working together with the 260 students of Muheim Elementary, we created this grand mandala on the theme of taking care of the world.  Each student of the school, from Kinder garten to Grade 7, was invited to make a mandala while reflecting on what it means to take care of the world.   I then put all the individual mandalas together to make the grand mandala in the school's gymnasium.

See if you can figure out how we did the 'magic in the movie'!   

Enjoy!

Rembrance Day from Vimy

It was only a few days ago that I passed through Vimy, France.  My route, as I have noted before, has had the uncanny tendency of passing through areas of France that are seeped in the history of World War one and two.  Perhaps Canada's most well know war memorial is found at Vimy.

As a Canadian passing through so close, I couldn't help but make a pilgrimage there.  

The monument at Vimy is moving, vast and imposing in its bare, yet grand simplicity.   Vimy was the site of a decisive Canadian battle in which thousands died.  The names of 16,000 soldiers are written all around the base of the monument.

It is a moving place.  Today, as bells ring, and as flowers are laid all over the world, it is a moment to remember.   To remember the sacrifice of so many and the enormity of it all.

Standing at the monument, I couldn't help but think, that despite the undoubted value in not forgeting the tragedy, that there is something amiss.  I have seen perhaps too many war monuments in the last month.    I wasn't able to put my finger on it, until, cycling away from Vimy, a flat tire forced me to pull over by a tree on the side of the road.  There, I discovered a small monument, evidently erected shortly after the war.

Roughly translated the monument reads:  "For Our Liberty and Your Liberty, Here two valiant French Shooters were gunned down by Fascist Hitlerites".  It was then, on this extreme version of a monument, that it hit me.  Subtly, unintentionally even, the monuments and the ceromonies that remember the wars of the past, perpetuate the same fundamental divisions that are at the root of wars and conflicts.

Veteran cemeteries are set aside by nationality here in France.  The Canadians buried here, the Americans there, the Germans, way over there.   The very same divisions on which the soldiers lost their lives are preserved in their deaths.

Remembering how terrible war can be, is important.  Yet, if we really do not want it to happen again, we must do more than remember along the lines of battle.  We must remember above and beyond those divisions.  Indeed we must erase those very lines.  

Without divisions, borders, and prejudices, then and only then, do the reasons for war melt away.

The Best Beer Ever

The weary traveler looked up at the sun.  In a blaze of pink clouds it was beginning to set.  Should he make camp, or continue on into the night and into the strange land ahead?  A mysterious abbey awaited him somewhere on an unknown road.  The sun's lingering light momentarily broke through the clouds.  Emboldened he kicked his trusty aluminum steed into gear.

Passing across the French/Belgian border I felt like a character from some medieval tale  Robbed, pennilless, yet while singing joyfully to the cows, I headed into a strange new country where Trapist monks in an old abbey awaited me. 

 The half moon rose above the shadowy fields.  A thick and low mist shrouded the trunks of trees.  The road, damp and glistening in the moonlight, gleamed like silver snake winding into the distance.  

My route dwindled into ever smaller and remote roads.  Finally, not a street or house light remained.   Even the road signs were no longer of metal, but carved in wood.  At one point, thunderous crashing arose in the bushes beside the road, and a heard of wild beasts dashed across the road.  I stopped incredulous.  I learned later I had seen a troop of wild boars.  

A wrong turn, and additional 7 kms later, and I made it.  The driveway wound up to a massive wood door.  The chapel bells rang as I waited.  At long last a diminuative yet spritely old monk opened the door and beckoned me in.  

"We have been awaiting an eternity for your arrival".

(he really said that!)

I was served a late but much welcomed dinner.  I explained I had come 3000 kms by bike.  "You could use a good strong beer couldn't you?" asked Pere Jaques rhetorically.  It really wasn't so much a question as it was a prescription.  He came back with a special bottle of their strongest brew.  Beer happens to be one the abbey's finest products-- their Chimay brand brew.

Wow.  That was good.

It was the best beer I have drank in a long time.

You Can't Buy This

-- a terrible nightime shot of my fresh ingredients

My bike is laden over with the autumn fruits of France: A pumkin, walnuts, apples, fresh cream, and artisan bagette. Stopping on the side of the road talking to farmers, all but the bread and cream were thrust insistingly into my hands. This evening, I take their gifts and am eating au Royale! Cream of apple and pumpkin soup, with nutmeg and walnuts.  

Its so immensely fufiling eating like this-- there's no packaging, no trucks driving hundreds of kms, no middlemen at all! I've either seen the food's field, or shaken the hands of its tender. The food is fresh and filled with intention.  

You may have heared of the 100 mile diet-- a movement to eat more locally and seasonally. Well, I am eating the 10 metre diet! I have been eating from right beside my road. In Canada it was berries and salmon, in the US corn from the fields, in England, black berries and apples, here in France, mussels, crab, chestuts, and more. The last few days I have been picking up the left over potatoes from the harvest-- they are the ones the machine didn't catch, and they would be left for waste. Its amazing really, how much abundance is out there just waiting to be picked up!  

A curiously realization has thus struck me: I am beginning to discover a joy in having no money.  

I know-- that must sound strange.  

In my journey I have had moments with much money, and others with next to none. In the moments of nothing-- the most amazing and magical things happen. Because of the theft yesterday, I only have a few euros left for the next few days until my bank transfer completes. I used to really fear being broke, yet now, strangely enough, I am starting to take joy in it.  

I suppose if I had money, I would have loaded up at the super market. Right now for instance-- meeting local farmers and fishermen-- is exponentially more fun than shopping in the supermarket, and a fraction of the cost. Instead, I have stopped and talked to them, they've invited me into their homes, I've played with their children and we've been all blessed.  

I haven't asked for anything, but again, my bike bags are bulging over.  

You can't buy this.

Everything Stolen

I write from the Police Station in Cambrai France.  Tonight, for a moment, I had nothing.  I had stopped to check my e-mail at a MacDonalds, and left my bike outside.  When I returned to check on it-- it was gone.  Of course, on it were all my possessions, equipement, food and gear.

I jogged around the dark alleys of the neighboured and turned up nothing.  I didn't realize til then it wasn't the best neighbourhood.  I called the police.   We jumped in their car and zoomed about.  

There it was.  I haven't been so happy to see my bike in a longtime!  Everything was on it, except for my gloves, food, and bank card and passport.  The latter are admittedly quite important.  Tomorrow I will be feeling the wind on my hands.  I have a few dollars to last me the next few days-- while I move my money around to the cards that I still have.

While standing in one of the dark alleys with no remaining material possessions, I searched myself for what I felt.  You know it wasn't so bad.  I actually started to get excited at the new bike and equipment that I would now be able to upgrade to!  How materialistic!  

I continue now towards the Beligian border.  I leave with a great appreciation for the people of France.  Asking nothing, I have been shown kindness and generosity at every turn.  From farmers,  to ex-presidential ministers, from professionals to students, from elders who have lived through the war to children who know nothing of it.   

The police have let me stay in their barracks tonight, and even the thief insisted on leaving my bike with all my essential gear in a place where it could be easily found! 

Walking the Labyrinth of Time

The other morning, I found myself wandering a 12th century gothic cathedral.

WOW.  I have never been so impressed by a cathedral.  

The whole building was a meticulous labour of symbolism and sacred geometry.   And the rose windows-  holly molly.  Exquisite.  Not only that, but one even featured a pentagram.  Pentagrams, despite being a beautiful shape with rich spiritual symbolism, are never seen in churches.  Especially these days, as the evangelical tradition has convinced everyone they are satanic!

 In the very center of the cathedral, was a labyrinth.  Labryths are a functional spiritual symbol also with an ancient history.  

Unlike mazes, they have no dead ends, they are instead a long meditative walk to the center.  This particular labyrinth had been there and walked for the last 800 years.  I stowed my bike away, and, while the hymns from a mass in a small sub-chapel echoed through the edifice, I walked the labrynth.   I was alone in the very centre of this towering and ancient temple.  Wow.

As I walked the marble stones, I could all but imagine the hundreds of others who had traced this precise route through this very same space for the last eight centuries.

It struck me that even across time we are all connected.

In the centre of the labrynth, right in the centre of the cathedral, I put out the request for help on my world oneness project and my journey.  Just as I have done in the center of ancient Woodhenge, Stonehenge, a crop circle, and the Avebury  stone circle I closed my eyes and raised my request to the universe

Surely, I have got some great vibes accompagnying me now!

In Search of WiFi - Amiens, France

It was a long and arduous ride into the heart of Amiens France to find an a WIFI hotspot for an online rendez vous.  The McDonalds in the city centre was my destination.   Yet, there was no Wifi there, and none anywhere else at all! 

 In France, open networks and cafes with free WIFI-- the kind we take for granted in North America-- they just don't exist.  I ended up paying something like 25$  to connect with a friend for three hours at a gaming centre.  Yikes!

However, my search for Wifi had brought me to the heart of Amiens.  It seemed a really cool city.  Alas, it was dark and cold by the time I had finished my catchup conversation with Louisa.  Somehow I had to figure my way out of the city.   I paused and looked about.  I had passed a pub 30 metres back.  

A singular intuition-- or maybe it was just the cozy warmth of the place-- urged me to turn back and check it out.  Reason compelled me to ignore the call of comfort and set off.  

After an internal debate,  intution won out.  I returned for a quick beer for the road.

As I put my bike onto the wall by the pub-- the wall opened!  It was a door.  A french couple appeared, and curiously questioned the strange cyclist who looked so out of place.  One thing led to another, they helped me find a free internet connection, and with incredible generousnous invited me to stay at their apartment that night.  

When you travel, one learns quickly that to follow the signs, the omens, the doors that open.  A door had literally opened.  I gratefully excepted.

Vladmir and Sandrine's welcomed me with wonderful kindness.   They shared a late dinner with and made me a wonderfuly warm and dry bed on their sofa.  We talked about French culture and graphic design.   There aparment was situated right beside a large cathedral.   I had all but dismissed it walking by in the dark. They informed me that it is one of the most amazing in France, a 12th century gothic masterpiece, and an UNESCO world heritage site.  People come from all over the world to visit it.

And there I was-- by chance!   Blessings abound.  More next post.