There's a little known secret tucked away inside one of the brick foundry buildings of the South End is near around the corner from the Cool and Cool. Meet Jason, a licensed Falconer and his juvenile red tailed hawk named Arshia.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The CMA PROUDLY Presents: FALCONER of the Month
Falconer: A person skilled in the art of Falconry.
There's a little known secret tucked away inside one of the brick foundry buildings of the South End is near around the corner from the Cool and Cool. Meet Jason, a licensed Falconer and his juvenile red tailed hawk named Arshia.
Recently I had the chance to step inside of Jason's studio and spend some time with him and this beautiful bird of prey. What an interesting bit of learning this time spent was. Arshia was born this past spring and the week before I met her she was captured in a basket by the falconer. Their relationship was only six days old, but the bond and communication between them was apparent. Jason took the time to explain a few things about this art to me.
The idea is that over the next several weeks Arshia will travel with Jason where ever he goes for her training. As they get to know each other he will take her to the field and teach her to hunt by using hand and voice commands. He described being able to walk a tree line with her following in flight from tree to tree to tree and so on until he helps her spot the ground prey. Once identified, the command is given and she will swoop in for the kill at which point he shows her how to dispatch the victim, be it a squirrel or rabbit. Eventually she will be taught to hunt other birds for a little air to air action.
Thanks to Jason for letting me spend some time with him and this amazing creature. After listening to his thoughts and watching his interaction with Arshia I have a better appreciation for such a powerful and natural art form. Fly on!
There's a little known secret tucked away inside one of the brick foundry buildings of the South End is near around the corner from the Cool and Cool. Meet Jason, a licensed Falconer and his juvenile red tailed hawk named Arshia.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Major Developments in the Uptoon Courier Scene
Sways he just bought a trail her from the fine folks at Bicycle Sport on Selwyn. Boy he loves it when I do that with words, so much so that he has even walked away before not to be seen again for hours, sometimes days. Swazey, the Queen City messenger scholar and owner operator of VeloCity Bicycle Courier(s) rolled into the Uptoon Yesterday with his new Burley Trailer. Over the holiday weekend he had sent me a text with a photographic attachment of his latest cycling purchase.
The question is, why did he make such a purchase?
a. To confuse senior members of the CMA.
b. He has nothing better to do with all of the cash he makes from servicing clients in 13 other regional Zip Codes.
c. His bag hurts his back and now he can place it in the trailer where it will get constantly pelted by the urban ick that falls to surface of the streets.
d. A contract is in the works with a potential new client that needs cargo delivered across the river two counties over.
e. All of the above.
Maybe he got tired of being randomly asked in the elevator, "Whatever happened to that messenger with the big calves who used to pull that little trailer behind his bike?" Ultimately I guess time will tell and in the meantime we can only wonder and poke him with a stick.
Swazey says:
"Why are you wanting to take pictures of me and my new trailer?" "You are not going to make fun of me on your good for nothing Blog, are you?" "Is my helmet on straight?" "Do you like my Vans?" "Can I get you some coffee?" "Are you still mad at me for buying the very same gray summer weight wool Walz Cycling Cap that you were given as a gift two days after you received it?" "Have you seen my beard comb?" "Does my new trailer make you feel desirous?"
Swazey rides away without his bag on his back and instead it is tucked neatly under the strapping of the new trailer. The Traffic Stop thinks that regardless of any preconceived die men shun all parameters that he should have bought a one wheeled BOB instead. But as we all know, it does not matter what I think. Ride on with your new trailer Swazey and keep the rubber side down!
The question is, why did he make such a purchase?
b. He has nothing better to do with all of the cash he makes from servicing clients in 13 other regional Zip Codes.
c. His bag hurts his back and now he can place it in the trailer where it will get constantly pelted by the urban ick that falls to surface of the streets.
d. A contract is in the works with a potential new client that needs cargo delivered across the river two counties over.
e. All of the above.
Swazey says:
"Why are you wanting to take pictures of me and my new trailer?" "You are not going to make fun of me on your good for nothing Blog, are you?" "Is my helmet on straight?" "Do you like my Vans?" "Can I get you some coffee?" "Are you still mad at me for buying the very same gray summer weight wool Walz Cycling Cap that you were given as a gift two days after you received it?" "Have you seen my beard comb?" "Does my new trailer make you feel desirous?"
Swazey rides away without his bag on his back and instead it is tucked neatly under the strapping of the new trailer. The Traffic Stop thinks that regardless of any preconceived die men shun all parameters that he should have bought a one wheeled BOB instead. But as we all know, it does not matter what I think. Ride on with your new trailer Swazey and keep the rubber side down!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Field Op Code Name-SYNCRO
It has been a sort of a tradition for the last few years that on the day after Thanksgiving Ms. Arcen and I take off to accomplish something pastoral and epic. You know, some father daughter bonding time out away from it all where things are quiet and you can actually hear the earth spinning on its axis. Last year it was the cold ride of the Virginia Creeper Trail and in 08 we spent the day hiking up in a snowy Grayson Highlands State Park, the highest territory in the great state of Virginia. In 07, the first year I started this blog we stayed close to home that Friday and made our transfer via an urban RIDE/BUS/RIDE/SWIM/RIDE. Time, one of the four dimensions I understand is passing rapidly, all I have to do for confirmation of that is look back at how small my kid was just three years ago.
This year the weather thwarted our Black Friday pastoral plans so instead we spent the day doing chores and impressing each other with our math skills. St. Lissa was called out in the wee hours of Sunday morning to assist with her 8th birth which left Ms. Arcen and I the time to utilize the rain check on our annual post Thanksgiving adventure. We decided to pack the pack and head over to Crowders Mountain for a hike up the region's most distinct monadnock. Once up along the main ridge our hope was to find an empty wall suitable for Ms. Arcen to practice her rock climbing\self empowerment skills.
Just as we pulled into the semi crowded lot at the Linwood Road access, I noticed a pretty girl in the bright sun standing on one foot, stretching an arm high into the sky perfectly straight and pulling back on the leg not holding her up. Interesting. We drove on by and found our space close to the facilities and commenced to gear up for the mile and a half hike up to the summit ridge. While I was messing with the pack behind the UN Montero, a gentleman and the pretty girl approached with the confidence of familiarity. The fellow stuck out his hand and introduced himself as the Blair that contacted me about a year ago after he had started checking in with the Traffic Stop down Atlanta way. Since then he has moved to Belmont to be closer with Beth, whom he then introduced us to. She was the one radiating strength on one foot with a single hand reaching for the sky when we first pulled into the lot.
How's the syncro? I am not sure how it is, but I know that it is constant and has infinite powers when received. We quickly figured out that the four of us would head up together and see what the day had in store. It was really great to meet these two progressive thinking folks and spend some time ambling over the top rocks and inner walls of Crowders' main with them.
On the way up the stairs Ms. Arcen tells Beth just how much she loves horses and that she cannot wait to bring her horse Majesty down from Maggie Valley. Beth has no doubt that the kid likes horses.
Blair drops a short steep as Beth looks through the lens.
Blair's face reacts to the impending doom if he makes one false step.
As Blair uses his butt muscles to control his descent, Beth laughs.
Ms. Arcen showing off her favorite cave.
I did not have enough webbing to safely tie her in on a tall wall near her debut wall, so we decided to hike back the practice wall. The bolts were occupied by Peyton and his climbing partner which gave us time to sit in the sun and enjoy a beverage. Blair and Beth took off on the rest of their day and about twenty minutes later the bolts became free. I anchored the line and then we headed down to the base of the crack. No pictures of her on the wall, I was too busy being her belay. She made five attempts on the same crack from her last time there and was unable to get passed a problem about 15 feet up. Interestingly enough, that problem did not bother her on that last experience. The rock was cold, we were in the shadows. It was exciting to see her try, and not want to give up. She seems to enjoy the feeling of being up there and on it.
She pulled off her shoe to make an adjustment, that is when I saw her gnarly big toe poking out of a stinky sock. Yikes, get to mending child!
Ms. Arcen made this image(the next one too) of me undoing our tie in.
No one told me that my right short pant leg was bunched up in my harness thigh strap.
Dad, you are such a dork with your short shorts on one side. Photo: Random Lady up top.
On the walk down the sun was low, the light through the woods was shadowy and above us bright against the upper walls and trees. We talked about the day and how nice it was to meet Blair and Beth. Ms. Arcen said, "Dad, can we not go anywhere without someone recognizing you from your mistake ridden blog? Why does that happen all the time?" I told her, "Come on, that has only happened a few times. It's not like I am Dicky or Arleigh."
This year the weather thwarted our Black Friday pastoral plans so instead we spent the day doing chores and impressing each other with our math skills. St. Lissa was called out in the wee hours of Sunday morning to assist with her 8th birth which left Ms. Arcen and I the time to utilize the rain check on our annual post Thanksgiving adventure. We decided to pack the pack and head over to Crowders Mountain for a hike up the region's most distinct monadnock. Once up along the main ridge our hope was to find an empty wall suitable for Ms. Arcen to practice her rock climbing\self empowerment skills.
Just as we pulled into the semi crowded lot at the Linwood Road access, I noticed a pretty girl in the bright sun standing on one foot, stretching an arm high into the sky perfectly straight and pulling back on the leg not holding her up. Interesting. We drove on by and found our space close to the facilities and commenced to gear up for the mile and a half hike up to the summit ridge. While I was messing with the pack behind the UN Montero, a gentleman and the pretty girl approached with the confidence of familiarity. The fellow stuck out his hand and introduced himself as the Blair that contacted me about a year ago after he had started checking in with the Traffic Stop down Atlanta way. Since then he has moved to Belmont to be closer with Beth, whom he then introduced us to. She was the one radiating strength on one foot with a single hand reaching for the sky when we first pulled into the lot.
How's the syncro? I am not sure how it is, but I know that it is constant and has infinite powers when received. We quickly figured out that the four of us would head up together and see what the day had in store. It was really great to meet these two progressive thinking folks and spend some time ambling over the top rocks and inner walls of Crowders' main with them.
On the way up the stairs Ms. Arcen tells Beth just how much she loves horses and that she cannot wait to bring her horse Majesty down from Maggie Valley. Beth has no doubt that the kid likes horses.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Giving Thanks
Pastor Lyonel on the afternoon of October 20, 2010 in Port Au Prince.
Especially this year to Pastor Lyonel for taking the time to teach me about the attachment between breaking laws and consequences. I had met him early the morning before on the terraced patio of the safe space I was leasing. Now we were headed for Barbancourt in his big white truck with two others, Pastor Dupree and his traditionally dressed and colorful wife. Just outside the hectic capital city was the country, they are not far apart. The flat green landscape a horizon wide in front of us gave way a few miles ahead to an even greener long mountain range.
Bright light, proximity to the solar center in the math and physical being adds to the confusion when Lyonel asks me, "Why did you come to Haiti?" Seems like all the cars in Haiti travel with the windows up, which to me is taking into the small box tons of ppm for all of us to breathe in, exhale, breathe in, exhale and so on. Until the headache starts ninety six hours later and your entire thought process leads you back to the understanding that no one ever chose to be born into this type of dire living condition. So I told him pretty much everything that I had which set into motion an educational transfer, the one that maybe I had been searching for. I explained to Lyonel and my two companions sitting close to each other behind me that first I wanted to visit Haiti because I knew that there are serious problems that have been compounded by the earthquake. My intention was to try to make a visual and written document that I could share with people back in America, in the hopes that a small bit of awareness may spread. Secondly, because of hearing the word Haiti in my head and letting go of what I thought I was doing, space opened to receive the unplanned opportunity to help the real helpers back in Mecklenburg with some on the ground recon.
I blamed my intuition, a suitable scapegoat. As my answer to his original question started to end I found myself coming back to the why and then told them about my whole understanding that no one chose to be born to the one landscape, one nation or division that they were. With that I am aware that my American brand was pure luck, like a mule eating broth which makes me further understand that the rest of the land on the planet is home to humans who made the same not choice. Almost seven billion, half sleep while the other half enjoy the projection of the relatively fixed sun's rays on the surface of a spinning earth. All of those people, their energy and potential. Some live in packed, densely populated cities elbow to elbow with individual faces of expression and feelings. Others dwell in more rural enclaves far from the chaos of ten million, like the community we were headed to.
Lyonel listened, then spoke when I finished. "Interesting thoughts", he commented before adding, "Now let's take that a step further." It was my turn to listen as he described some basic principles that he holds to be true because they are proven constantly when observed. Lyonel asked, "When one breaks the law, one is subject to the consequences, would you agree?"
Of course. Then he went on to explain that there are many types of laws that we as the human race have the potential to break. For example: Laws of a particular Government, Spiritual Laws, Moral Laws, Natural Laws and so on. And, when you break one of these or many and you are an individual that is one thing. You will have to deal with the outcome on our own terms, for and by yourself. But, if you are a leader with responsibility to the people you govern on any level and you break those laws for your own immediate gain then the future generations wind up having to pay those consequences. "That is what you see here in Haiti", the pastor said, "the people of Haiti are living in a condition that is the result of the generations prior consistently breaking the laws."
Pastor Lyonel went on to say that just like not choosing to be Haitian that these people did not ask for those laws to be broken over a span of the last roughly 250 years. Living in the aftermath of not only an earthquake but the greed and senseless actions of others generations prior who are long dead and gone. The scale of the travesty sets in as I realize that right now, those same laws are still perpetually being broken by leadership around the world. And so then, who does the leadership work for?
As we sped along east on the newly asphalted unmarked road I stared out the window into the vibrant hillside stretching all the way to lands end and wondered about the future of the place I was born to. When the full ramifications of our collective law breaking under the guise of progress catches up with the people back home what will it look like? What I saw in Haiti was real, Lyonel makes complete sense and what he describes is obvious when you look at it.
Lyonel told me that he understands the helpless feeling and confusion that sets in when one tries to figure out how to actually change things and fix the problem Of course neither one of us ever had say in the actions taken by our leaders, so what is there to do? I hear that a lot, "Oh, I can't control that, so I am only going to think about what I can." Looks to me as if none of this is in any one's control so maybe it is time to give in and start undoing some of the many broken laws created over time.
For Pastor Lyonel it is about making right the conditions in the now created by so much wrong doing past. Service to the people with assurance and honesty. The problems of Haiti may never be fixed entirely, but in singular circumstances wrongs will be righted by people conscious enough to know what they must do. "Letting go is key", he said. When I heard his voice say those words, I realized that was the third time in about a month that phrase was spoken to me. I let it set into my cortex, closed my eyes for a second and visioned an entire world ready to let it go. I work on it every day knowing that those times I achieve it, I actually feel better about the bigger stage around me. And it is hard to do, until I fully understand that it is actually the easier option compared to holding on. Holding on can be such an effort, I thought to myself as I looked out over the tops of the palm trees at a beautiful rising landscape against a bright blue sky.
Consequences indeed.
Bright light, proximity to the solar center in the math and physical being adds to the confusion when Lyonel asks me, "Why did you come to Haiti?" Seems like all the cars in Haiti travel with the windows up, which to me is taking into the small box tons of ppm for all of us to breathe in, exhale, breathe in, exhale and so on. Until the headache starts ninety six hours later and your entire thought process leads you back to the understanding that no one ever chose to be born into this type of dire living condition. So I told him pretty much everything that I had which set into motion an educational transfer, the one that maybe I had been searching for. I explained to Lyonel and my two companions sitting close to each other behind me that first I wanted to visit Haiti because I knew that there are serious problems that have been compounded by the earthquake. My intention was to try to make a visual and written document that I could share with people back in America, in the hopes that a small bit of awareness may spread. Secondly, because of hearing the word Haiti in my head and letting go of what I thought I was doing, space opened to receive the unplanned opportunity to help the real helpers back in Mecklenburg with some on the ground recon.
I blamed my intuition, a suitable scapegoat. As my answer to his original question started to end I found myself coming back to the why and then told them about my whole understanding that no one chose to be born to the one landscape, one nation or division that they were. With that I am aware that my American brand was pure luck, like a mule eating broth which makes me further understand that the rest of the land on the planet is home to humans who made the same not choice. Almost seven billion, half sleep while the other half enjoy the projection of the relatively fixed sun's rays on the surface of a spinning earth. All of those people, their energy and potential. Some live in packed, densely populated cities elbow to elbow with individual faces of expression and feelings. Others dwell in more rural enclaves far from the chaos of ten million, like the community we were headed to.
Lyonel listened, then spoke when I finished. "Interesting thoughts", he commented before adding, "Now let's take that a step further." It was my turn to listen as he described some basic principles that he holds to be true because they are proven constantly when observed. Lyonel asked, "When one breaks the law, one is subject to the consequences, would you agree?"
Of course. Then he went on to explain that there are many types of laws that we as the human race have the potential to break. For example: Laws of a particular Government, Spiritual Laws, Moral Laws, Natural Laws and so on. And, when you break one of these or many and you are an individual that is one thing. You will have to deal with the outcome on our own terms, for and by yourself. But, if you are a leader with responsibility to the people you govern on any level and you break those laws for your own immediate gain then the future generations wind up having to pay those consequences. "That is what you see here in Haiti", the pastor said, "the people of Haiti are living in a condition that is the result of the generations prior consistently breaking the laws."
Pastor Lyonel went on to say that just like not choosing to be Haitian that these people did not ask for those laws to be broken over a span of the last roughly 250 years. Living in the aftermath of not only an earthquake but the greed and senseless actions of others generations prior who are long dead and gone. The scale of the travesty sets in as I realize that right now, those same laws are still perpetually being broken by leadership around the world. And so then, who does the leadership work for?
As we sped along east on the newly asphalted unmarked road I stared out the window into the vibrant hillside stretching all the way to lands end and wondered about the future of the place I was born to. When the full ramifications of our collective law breaking under the guise of progress catches up with the people back home what will it look like? What I saw in Haiti was real, Lyonel makes complete sense and what he describes is obvious when you look at it.
Lyonel told me that he understands the helpless feeling and confusion that sets in when one tries to figure out how to actually change things and fix the problem Of course neither one of us ever had say in the actions taken by our leaders, so what is there to do? I hear that a lot, "Oh, I can't control that, so I am only going to think about what I can." Looks to me as if none of this is in any one's control so maybe it is time to give in and start undoing some of the many broken laws created over time.
For Pastor Lyonel it is about making right the conditions in the now created by so much wrong doing past. Service to the people with assurance and honesty. The problems of Haiti may never be fixed entirely, but in singular circumstances wrongs will be righted by people conscious enough to know what they must do. "Letting go is key", he said. When I heard his voice say those words, I realized that was the third time in about a month that phrase was spoken to me. I let it set into my cortex, closed my eyes for a second and visioned an entire world ready to let it go. I work on it every day knowing that those times I achieve it, I actually feel better about the bigger stage around me. And it is hard to do, until I fully understand that it is actually the easier option compared to holding on. Holding on can be such an effort, I thought to myself as I looked out over the tops of the palm trees at a beautiful rising landscape against a bright blue sky.
Consequences indeed.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sorry for Everything
Again, all over again it is Thanksgiving. Sure, I'll go along for the forty first time like everything is fine and play the dice game that counts only when I realize it is just that, dice. Truly Otter, you can come up with something, anything other than you don't give a shit, that your 2.84$ a gallon and everything connected to it is actually crushing those on the other end. Cannot we at least talk about it without your anger taking control of not only you, but the air you breathe? The collective, plus only you, the one who avoids and denies does not give one shit, that's the beauty of understanding. My reproach is simply seeing the obvious, not an elitist perspective, merely the one of a person who feels. How I talk to people? Surely if you give your car a name, a human identity, one that you can actually formulate as a cause, you can simply dismiss any responsibility for caring in trade of your own comfort level. Ha. Merry Christmas everyone!
This post should not be taken lightly. Humans lost their lives and are buried forever in the rubble of what your visual cortex is about to take in. Once again, I cannot reiterate enough, the scale of the destruction that the earthquake in January created for Haitians is larger than I will ever be able to convey to you using this binary electronic code of nothing. Then again, I am not working for anyone. It is not like anything else in history, the effects should not be compared to and or rationalized as within one's ego to determine a suitable response as something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, it's just like(fill in the blank)." Riots? Holgen says, "Every day here in Haiti is a riot."
Upward
Image 283
Underneath and over.
Consistent with recovery.
Many staircases led to the empty sky for clouds cannot hold weight, therefor they do not count.
Cracks in the walls, lower PAP.
Inshallah.
28 Avnu Delmas
Leave it alone, can we?
Another void staircase.
This post should not be taken lightly. Humans lost their lives and are buried forever in the rubble of what your visual cortex is about to take in. Once again, I cannot reiterate enough, the scale of the destruction that the earthquake in January created for Haitians is larger than I will ever be able to convey to you using this binary electronic code of nothing. Then again, I am not working for anyone. It is not like anything else in history, the effects should not be compared to and or rationalized as within one's ego to determine a suitable response as something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, it's just like(fill in the blank)." Riots? Holgen says, "Every day here in Haiti is a riot."
Image 283
Underneath and over.
Monday, November 22, 2010
CMA Update
Friday, November 19, 2010
Picture(s) of the Week
Yesterday afternoon I spied an alliance forming between Wes, representing the Charlotte Homeless Union(CHU, like chew) and an ole time Veteran from the local Taxi Cab League.
About ten minutes later, just after I had bagged my camera, I noticed a small Cessna 172 flying basically down(south) Church Street. It was roughly 700 feet above the deck. I watched as the pilot banked a tipped wing left hand turn around the crown of the Bank of America's Corporate Center. The plane appeared to be less than 200 feet from the building. For about ten minutes I watched as the plane made three passes down Church, around the Corp Center, then up College out of sight before returning the loop back down Church.
* Correction Department News: In yesterday's post I wrote, Two others from the squad of vigilante UN soldiers walked over to check me out. I realized last night that while typing the sentence above I had gotten happy handed and accidentally added an 'e' to the end of vigilant changing the word and meaning of what I was trying to describe. Vigilant: 1. keenly watchful to detect danger; wary: a vigilant sentry 2. ever awake and alert; sleeplessly watchful
* Correction Department News: In yesterday's post I wrote, Two others from the squad of vigilante UN soldiers walked over to check me out. I realized last night that while typing the sentence above I had gotten happy handed and accidentally added an 'e' to the end of vigilant changing the word and meaning of what I was trying to describe. Vigilant: 1. keenly watchful to detect danger; wary: a vigilant sentry 2. ever awake and alert; sleeplessly watchful
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