Welcome to Balanced Rocks: Pictures and Stories

Beginning March 16,2010, I began a journey of balancing rocks. I hold to the practice of setting to balance at least five sculptures a day, sometimes, many more. Of these I take lots of pictures and videos. While conducting this adventure, I have been introduced to an incredible unfolding story. Additionally, I discovered this phenomenon is manifesting worldwide. As I post pictures and stories, I found many others similarly engaged and sharing their works. Additionally, as folks come upon me performing my work, many want to find out how this is done and try themselves. This blog shares this work in both pictures and stories. Enjoy


A seeming impossibility becomes possible

Rock Balancing: The Beginning

On a fine summer day, sometime in August, 2009, I was visiting family in Toronto. Like most folks spending summer in a large city, we used up as much time as we could finding outdoor events that would cool us. One afternoon, we headed to the Beaches section of East Toronto. After spending some time playing in a large sandbox in the shade with my grandkids and some of their newfound companions, we headed to the Boardwalk that extends from Balmy Beach to Kew Gardens. Ella accompanied me, Liam took off with his mom, Natalie. They ventured down the boardwalk, Ella and I headed onto the sand toward the water’s edge. Halfway there we encountered what looked like a small size Stonehenge.

About a dozen sculptures were gathered together in a rough circle. Each was a stack of two or three rocks balanced one on another. The tallest one was slightly taller than Ella, who was small average height for a five year older. All were in the neighborhood of three feet and four feet tall. What immediately jumped out was the precarious nature of the balancing. Most points of contact were miraculously slight. Most seemed to be standing on a point. Two more folks were witnessing this amazing display. We imagined that there must be small metal rods embedded at the point of contact, or else some kind of glue was used. Each of us peered from close low angles to detect what could account for this mystical display. Ella, not being so cautious, toppled one structure over. Luckily, it did not land on her.

I hurried over and picked up the fallen rock. I saw no evidence of a rod or glue. It indeed had been balanced on its pedestal. I lifted it up and tried to place it back where I reckoned it had been balanced. I cautioned Ella, to be careful and not upset any more sculptures and went about the task of finding balance. I was not successful and struggled immensely but did not find the magic spot where stability could be achieved. After a lengthy effort, an attractive Asian woman about my age approached and gently nudged me aside offering to demonstrate her work. She pointed to the spot she would set the stone upon. She called it by a foreign name. To me it looked like a slight dimple.

Placing the small end of the upper rock into that hollow, she deftly and quickly moved it around, slightly twisting and cajoling it into position. The sight of this slender woman with longish graying hair performing an intricate dance with a rock slightly larger than her head emanated calmness. It seemed only the ends of her fingers were used to achieve these small movements. Apparently, equilibrium was close. Shortly she was done and withdrew her palms which naturally assumed an open prayer posture. The rock I had grappled with was majestically resting in its previous stable state. She next went over and reset two other structures, I had not noticed were also amiss. I just took them to be part of the rubble strewn about the beach. Now all the display was standing and providing a small sense of order in our chaotic world.

I never got this woman’s name, but heard her story. She had set this display up for the purpose of taking pictures, one of which she hoped to use for a cover of a book she was publishing. Unfortunately not getting her name makes it difficult to find her book. But I carried away with me the sight of her presentation and the incredible feeling I had witnessed an amazing ethereal event. I also felt an urge to explore this practice.

Rock in the Snow

Rock in the Snow
January in Toronto

Friday, February 15, 2008

Stopping and Going: Allentown, PA

Yesterday, I discoursed on choosing and following directions and bypassing obstacles. As important as obtaining bearings and heading is to fathom when to get going and when to stop off. I guess folks who hopped freight trains were well accustomed to practicing this metaphor. Catching a wave, riding it and finally sinking into the surf is another example of this allegory. In a mega significance, my small journey is symbolic of the journey of life. During our life span we are endlessly choosing a route, engaging, disengaging, losing our way, pausing, reflecting, changing course, and finding new beginnings, all the while praying and hoping we are not met head on with disaster.
Today finds me visiting with my Spiritual Friend Wilson. Our objective is to obtain grounding and beseech Blessing on my allegorical venture. Then I will put into practice these concepts I have introduced. I intend to head off in a Southeasterly direction; meaning in the morning the sun will be in my face. If I continue in this direction by late afternoon, the sun will be setting behind my right shoulder. I will get to choose when to set off and Fate will determine where I will be when today’s wave exhausts.


maurine said...

Time for a post! So far you seem to be going in circles. I have been calling myself the Quaker Hobo for the past three years. I may be hanging up my bindle stick. Where does that word come from? Here is a definition from Wikipedia: Hobos travel and are willing to work. Tramps only travel and bums will do neither. So far you are a tramp.


Baba Rob said...

Thanks for providing clarity concerning hobos, tramps, and bums. Yes, currently, I am more tramp than hobo. Although I am constantly willing to work. In the past two days a couple of ideas have hatched and I get very positive reception to one of them. I stop at many Antique stores and have broached the idea of setting up a schedule to give chair caning, rush seating and woven seating workshops. The response is very positive and I will continue to set up a summer trip giving such classes. The shops will host the event and I will just have to show up and conduct the class. I had offered to conduct this class at PH,but it was not considered "Spiritual" enough. I dunno, saving old things from the trash heap by taking on work of a contemplative nature seems fitting to me, but what do I know?
As far as working on the road, I have several destinations that involve current work. When I get there I will certainly be willing.
Again thanks for the input. It provided me with mental cereal for a couple of days.

Kurt said...

I believe that the word you are looking for is bindlestiff. It is a word used to describe the bundle of clothing and bedding carried by a hobo.

As you can see, I'm a little behind in my blog reading. I never have been one who's much for the internet, but I have added your blog to the favorites list on the commonroom computer. Maybe this will help me to be slightly more vigilant. Keep in touch, Rob.

About Me, Part One

My photo
Rock Balancing: The Beginning. What began as a journal of my travels took a hiatus when I began to settle in Ithaca NY. In the meantime, I took up the practice of setting rocks to balance. I returned to my blog to begin recording this story

Part, The second

On Easter Sunday Morning, 2008, I made a decision to settle in the Ithaca New York area. At the same time, I decided to continue to post my blog, However, the stories now will come from the archive stored internally. These will be the stories I gathered while on previous journeys and never entrusted to paper. The date of each posting will not reflect the date of the story being related but will mark the date that narrative got inscribed.

Carry wood

Carry wood
33 years later

Part: The third

I took a brief hiatus from my daily blog writing. I did not know the direction it would take. part of me thought I would abandon it. It turns out I missed it. The old title "On the Road Again' is no longer apt. It appears I am settling. The travel stories will age to a point, when I will probably resusitiate them and do something with them. I dusted off some old stories and begin this new series.
Thr first is one was written two years ago. I edited it and begin again a series that is more apropos to someone settling in upper New York State. They are meant to warm, amuse, educate and sometimes inflame.