04 février 2009
Today's nice dude is...
Jacques Testart.
First french scientist to achieve an IVF. The embryo became a baby, called Amandine, and born in 1982.
But that's not what makes him great.
Jacques Testart is great because he is a scientist, does not believe in GM organisms and criticize science (more religious cult than academic subject, if you ask me).
Jacques Testart is honest and talks about eugenics, environmental catastrophies, humility and humanity, when so many scientists think they are God and should not answer to anybody nor anything, except their vanity.
Jacques, I salute you.
28 janvier 2009
I lost my camera.
So there won't be any polymer clay pictures before a while.
I'm still trying out stuff, getting massively angry at myself when I miss, but being quite satisfied when things work out.
I've made some pretty neat things (a squiggle bead a la Kato, some neat bone imitations, a really nice kaleidoscope cane, etc...) and I'll try to take pictures and post them when I can (don't hold your breath, though...)
I've also made a brooch featuring stamping, embossing powder and liquid clay!! :)
And I've completed my library with some exciting things that should provide me with techniques until my old age:
http://www.watsonguptill.com/images/large/0823013626.jpg
http://image.misterart.com/grouppix/528x352/5000/g5301.jpg
http://http://prairiecraft.com/Merchant2/graphics/00000001/APC3-b.jpg
http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/2212115814.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg
http://http://www.mollat.com/cache/couvertures/9782212122305.jpg
27 janvier 2009
El Sistema!!!!
The Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra is coming to the UK!!!
I caught this incredible story totally by random, one night when I crashed on the couch, wanting to watch some mind-dumbing TV. Instead, I found the Sistema. Founded by an old musician/economist, the Sistema is a music school in Venezuela. Its aim is to give children a chance to be something else than victims of circumstances. By giving them the opportunity to learn and play an instrument, it gives them the chance to take their future into their own hands and beat the odds. The Sistema works so well in Venezuela that the Scottish Art Council just gave out funds to do the same thing in Glasgow.
And they're playing in London in April.
I'm gonna get me some tickets...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Sistema > Wiki Page
http://www.fesnojiv.gob.ve/en.html > Official website
My favourite Brit.
"They always mean beautiful things like hummingbirds. I always reply by saying that I think of a little child in east Africa with a worm burrowing through his eyeball. The worm cannot live in any other way, except by burrowing through eyeballs. I find that hard to reconcile with the notion of a divine and benevolent creator."
Sir David Attenborough, about Creationnists and the Genesis.
27 octobre 2008
Rabbit Proof Fence
The Rabbit Proof Fence is protective device built in Australia during the last century to protect Australian pastures from the invasion of rodents. There are three fences in total, isolating Western Australia from the rest of the country.
Rabbit Proof Fence is the story of three little girls, Molly, Daisy and Gracie, who were stolen from their parents by British Authorities on humanitarian grounds, and sent away in the "care" of churches and religious missions, around 1930.
Thousands of children across Australia have been forcefully removed from their families during the 20th century, their names changes and their identities erased, in a bid to "dilute" the aboriginal population in the white, christian population of settlers.
Molly, Daisy and Gracie were sent to the Moore River Native Settlement, and escaped. They walked the 2500 km journey to their mothers.
Simple storyline. Three little girls, the Australian desert, a white male figure of authority and an aboriginal tracker.
However, it turns into quite something else. It talks about motherhood, and what bonds a mother to her child. It shows the strength of that bond, symbolized by the fence: the girls follow the fence to get home. The fence is what links them to their mother, but it is also what gives them away. A double-edged life-line.
it is also about culture and nurture, and the frivolous white/christian concept that all cultures are inferior to Western culture. Supposedly removed on humanitarian grounds (the excuse then used by the British was that Aboriginal people neglected their children), these children were banned from using their language, were sent to Church and westernized as much as possible. During their journey across Australia's bush country and desert, the three little girls become a plea for aboriginal culture, and their extra-ordinary knowledge of their environment. Three tiny girls face the immensity of the unforgiving desert, but they have with them thousands of years of Aboriginal skills. The movie asks the question of culture, and whether one is more valid than the other. It stresses the tight links between culture and environment. It demonstrates brilliantly that Aboriginal culture is in fine tune with the Australian harsh country, and shows by contrast how unskilled and helpless white people are when facing the desert: the girls elude their pursuers over and over again. Tracked by an Aboriginal working for the white man, the girls must resort to all their ingenuity and knowledge to avoid capture. The character of the "tracker" is also very important, as this man symbolizes all the horror of being a parent, Aboriginal and enslaved at the same time: the tracker has a daughter, held captive in the same facility as the girls. He is on probation (although it is never known what his crime was) and is forced to chase the fugitives and bring them back to the camp. The tracker has to choose between some rare and distant encounters with his captive daughter and freedom. He betrays his people to carry on being a father, despite the huge costs. This -almost mute- character seems to speak for the Aboriginals, and shows them as being no more, no less than human beings (a father makes a moral sacrifice in order to be near his child, just like any parent would do).
But this movie is first and foremost a cry for all these children taken from their families, all these mothers that never saw their children again, all these lives ruined and shattered by the all-powerful white man. Declared wards of the state (even though most of them still had their parents), the children were robbed from their identity, and, when later "released", the impact of the Government's policies eventually started to show: uprooted, and virtually coming from nowhere, the Aboriginal stolen generations encountered huge difficulties with life as second-class citizens, and crime and drug ravaged the communities.
The Australian Government apologized to the Aboriginal people in 2007, more than a century after the first children were removed from their families.
The systematic removal of children from their families, their forced westernization, and the planned "breeding" of Aboriginal people with westerners would have brought about the end of the Aboriginal people, had it been carried out completely.
This was a planned genocide. Nothing more, nothing less.
23 octobre 2008
25 years later...
My dad (YES, MY DAD!!!!) just sent me an email.
First email ever. First casual correspondence ever. First casual contact in 25 years.
I've been asked for forgiveness.
Funny.
I've been waiting for that for years and years, and now that it happens, it doesn't matter any more. I'm not angry any more.
07 octobre 2008
Back at work.
I have decided to get back into my Fimo.
My hands are getting itchy, and my head is all over the place. Signs that stuff needs to get out, in other form than just talk.
Got some new things (stamps, inks, texture plates and stuff), and I will get back to it as soon as I get some time on my own (hopefully, on Friday).
27 septembre 2008
Ophélie
I
Sur l'onde calme et noire où dorment les étoiles
La blanche Ophélia flotte comme un grand lys,
Flotte très lentement, couchée en ses longs voiles...
- On entend dans les bois lointains des hallalis.
Voici plus de mille ans que la triste Ophélie
Passe, fantôme blanc, sur le long fleuve noir,
Voici plus de mille ans que sa douce folie
Murmure sa romance à la brise du soir.
Le vent baise ses seins et déploie en corolle
Ses grands voiles bercés mollement par les eaux ;
Les saules frissonnants pleurent sur son épaule,
Sur son grand front rêveur s'inclinent les roseaux.
Les nénuphars froissés soupirent autour d'elle ;
Elle éveille parfois, dans un aune qui dort,
Quelque nid, d'où s'échappe un petit frisson d'aile :
- Un chant mystérieux tombe des astres d'or.
II
O pâle Ophélia ! belle comme la neige !
Oui tu mourus, enfant, par un fleuve emporté !
C'est que les vents tombant des grand monts de Norwège
T'avaient parlé tout bas de l'âpre liberté ;
C'est qu'un souffle, tordant ta grande chevelure,
A ton esprit rêveur portait d'étranges bruits ;
Que ton coeur écoutait le chant de la Nature
Dans les plaintes de l'arbre et les soupirs des nuits ;
C'est que la voix des mers folles, immense râle,
Brisait ton sein d'enfant, trop humain et trop doux ;
C'est qu'un matin d'avril, un beau cavalier pâle,
Un pauvre fou, s'assit muet à tes genoux !
Ciel ! Amour ! Liberté ! Quel rêve, ô pauvre Folle !
Tu te fondais à lui comme une neige au feu :
Tes grandes visions étranglaient ta parole
- Et l'Infini terrible effara ton œil bleu !
III
- Et le Poète dit qu'aux rayons des étoiles
Tu viens chercher, la nuit, les fleurs que tu cueillis ;
Et qu'il a vu sur l'eau, couchée en ses longs voiles,
La blanche Ophélia flotter, comme un grand lys.
Arthur Rimbaud, 15 mai 1870
26 septembre 2008
Wow.
Oh, The Places You'll Go!
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets.
Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
You're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
You'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
You'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
In the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
And frequently do
To people as brainy
And footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
Don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.
OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!
You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
Who soar to high heights.
You won't lag behind, because
you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.
Except when you don' t
Because, sometimes, you won't.
I'm sorry to say so
But, sadly, it's true
And Hang-ups
Can happen to you.
You can get all hung up
In a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.
You'll come down from the Lurch
With an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
That you'll be in a Slump.
And when you're in a Slump,
You're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
Is not easily done.
You will come to a place where
the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go in, should you
turn left or right...
Or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
For a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused
That you'll start in to race
Down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
And grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
Headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
Or a bus to come, or a plane to go
Or the mail to come, or the rain to go
Or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
Or waiting around for a Yes or a No
Or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
Or waiting for wind to fly a kite
Or waiting around for Friday night
Or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
Or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
Or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
Or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
NO!
That's not for you!
Somehow you'll escape
All that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
Where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping,
Once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!
Oh, the places you'll go! There
is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
Will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
With the whole wide world watching you win on TV.
Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.
I'm afraid that some times
You'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'Cause you'll play against you.
All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
You'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's
a very good chance
You'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
That can scare you so much you won't want to go on.
But on you will go
Though the weather be foul
On you will go
Though your enemies prowl
On you will go
Though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
A frightening creek,
Though your arms may get sore
And your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike
And I know you'll hike far
And face up to your problems
Whatever they are.
You'll get mixed up, of course,
As you already know.
You'll get mixed up
With many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that Life's
A Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So...
Be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
Or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!
Dr Seuss
I discovered this text as I was reading it to Henry the other day. It made me cry (I know, I know...).
I've read tons of books, and probably even more kiddies books, but I never came across one that was so perfect.
Telling children about life, fear, anguish and struggle is not an easy thing. Telling them about it without freaking them out is even harder. Doing so whilst being so optimistic and putting so much faith in a child's ability to be happy is almost impossible.
Yet it has been done. Behold.
17 septembre 2008
I just realised
That this blog is read. By people. Deletion of posts is therefore a necessity. Don't want things to be dragged out of this place.