“The future is already here — it’s just not very evenly distributed.” -William Gibson
The Maxwell family name originated in Scotland’s border region over a half millennium ago. As part of the family heraldry an the emblem was adopted of a standing heart with Saint Andrew’s saltire cross through the middle. Early in family history Sir John Maxwell, the Earl of Nithsdale, head of the clan constructed a formidable castle near the English border. It was raised by the edge of the Irish Sea and known as Caerlaverock. Through the course of centuries the castle was embattled many times over causes few alive exactly remember.
Within this moated stronghold the symbol of the heart & cross was carved onto the red sandstone façade around 1634AD. The castle was again laid siege just a few years later. This time during the wars of religion that shook the Scottish nation. A bloody conflict raged between Catholics and Protestant Christians, all of course children of God. Though fiercely allegiant to King Charles I those within were left abandoned of aid by their monarch. Grossly outnumbered they succumbed to those outside intent on the castle’s demise in the name of religion. After many weeks the walled fortress fell. The standoff ended with surrender. Caerlaverock was partially destroyed and has lain in ruins since.
If one visits the castle’s remnant relic today they’ll find a fortress no more and stately apartment within mere crumbling rock. An intriguing question arises. What can this fallen structure, missing stones, within- without and a moat fallen wall & tower indicate? There is something challenging here for us all. Imagine this condition for the better. Wars long ended and peace long prevails. The once grand assemblance of stones now lacks all amenities. The Earl’s residence with every possession long ago stolen or decayed and potent defenses shattered. Ironically as such it is been rendered impervious; no future attacks will be plotted and sprung save time itself.
A walking tour of this historic site reveals something miraculous. The engraved heart and cross are still standing over a doorway as it has for more than three hundred years. To the current generation of Maxwell’s the heart and saltire or crux decussata (cross upon which Saint Andrew was crucified) image still resonates strong. The heart and the cross taken together embody the power of love and forgiveness.
Here is history’s rich dispatch to a way of life. Do not allow our hearts and minds to become a fortress of sorts but rather strive to be an open force of change for good in the world. Embrace love and forgiveness.
Beside writing and poetry i have another passion .. lights.. creating experimental lighting effects and atmospheres.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFxC1-R9gHE
Self Portrait
http://highland-pipemaker.com/
This is the place for you an' me!
Mayville, NY
As many as 15 different steam boats plied the scenic waters of Chautauqua Lake from about 1863 through the 1920’s. A single boat from the era (The City of Jamestown) remained on the lake up until 1963 marking a grand century of steamers. The Chautauqua Belle, a replica of this by gone age was built in 1975 and was commissioned July 4th 1976 to mark the US bicentennial. The boat has recently returned to Chautauqua Lake after a four years absence under new ownership making three to four sightseeing excursions daily.
The Belle is a front loader with a single swinging stage
Chautauqua Belle steamboat in Mayville, NY USA
The Belle is a two-decker stern paddle wheeler
The Chautauqua Belle's steam boiler
Landing at the Miller Bell Tower Chautauqua Institution, NY USA
New blooms are coming daily to our Croton on Hudson gardens here in the Empire state. It looks to be a few more weeks wait for the bees and the rest of us before the purple & green fireworks are in full force. Then I will envy the lighter than air bees; they and their wee flying cousins. These blessed creatures will be the only folks fortunate enough so granted personal audience with her majesty Queen of yard thistle. Imagine sipping sweet tea in the garden throne room whilst resting upon a purplish pink velvet cushion on warm July afternoon!
July yard thistles begin to bloom in the Empire.
While there are innumerous quoteable quotes, there exist also quoteable non-quotes..
PT Barnum almost certainly never said “There’s a sucker born every minute.” I firmly believe the gist of such a statement itself is entirely true. There is little proof PT Barnum ever uttered the line in fact most evidence would indicate the contrary. He did, however, as a money-maker once build a plaster replica of someone’s hoax “petrified” human giant charging people to view it. It was a fake of a fake. (humbug, sham phony) Thus proves indeed every five dozen seconds provides new chance for cozen.
pt barnum's fake cardiff giant
Nemo me impune lacessit ("No one provokes me with impunity")
Yard thistles growing about in random splendour. Journey’s end, a dream fulfilled of lofted tufted plume and slumbering seed so slender. A towering fortress that rises from the garden floor, stage for noble wee archers. Green dressed bowmen at the ready to protect the throne and violet crown. A head of state who holds audience with satin honey bees and yellow ‘n black jacketed bumbles, bestowing guests with precious pillows of pollen while discussing the nature of a proper sting and when such defense is prudent.
i’m thirsty for words and i’m in a personal desert, my mind is a pile of barren rock, a hot wind blows, i can hear mistrals whistle between my ears, glaring heat then biting cold, nothing but sand and dry earth, no seeds (of thought) are found to grow here.. remember the poem about the fresh baskets of peaches? of course you don’t, i never completed it, i’m thirsty for words, thirsty for a drop of insight, but i do not long for an oaysis , i long for endless fertile fields, copious harvests , would I want a Kansas? or some fertile mountain growing tea like wisdom, a place of abundance of diverse crops, ye a thirsty man would give anything for a drink, pay a high price indeed, a dying man- lost a sea on a raft might drink his own urine to survive, how far below lies the aquifer, how can one drill deep enough to find the water table of inner cognition? what’s the secret of the rod for divining acumen?
“Good judgment comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgment.” -fortune cookie
Macusweil's Mind 
