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, July 25, 2008

Lights out. August 19,1991: Martha's Vineyard, MA

We got Natalie safely to Montreal and set up in a new apartment. The night before we left, we went out to dinner at an Indian restaurant. It was partly in celebration of Amelia’s coming birthday. She hoped to be back home on Martha’s Vineyard to celebrate with her friends. So as a present we bought her ice cream with peas in it. Strange to say the least, she enjoyed it. We stayed up late fêting Amelia’s turning eight. Next morning we woke late, had breakfast and got on the road.
Our route took us over to Vermont and traversed that state from the northwest to southeast corners. The weather was clear, calm, and cool, enjoyable for a drive. Amelia was in charge of the music selection and kept us in tunes from my cassette collection. We breezed down the state listening to the likes of Bob Marley, Queen, Dire Straights and REM. There was no indication of what was twirling up the east coast headed for Nova Scotia. From all appearances we were headed toward a peaceful end of summer. It was dark by the time we reached Springfield, Massachusetts. It was really dark. There was not light to be seen. It had all the appearance of a blackout.
Trying to find out what happened, we switched from cassette tunes to radio and found a station broadcasting news. The hot topic concerned the surrounding of the Russian Parliament by crack paratroop forces of Soviet Army. Apparently Russia was in turmoil. News was sketchy but spoke that Russian hardliners, upset by President Gorbachev’s moderate policies were taking over. Indications were that days of openness were finished and now headed back toward confrontational politics. That news along with a blackout brought up memories of cold war policies along with visions of nuclear holocaust. It seemed like we fell through a hole and landed right back in the 1950’s. Of course Amelia was too young to have the same concerns as I. She kept a cool head while we pressed on toward home. I hoped to get to Martha’s Vineyard before the bombs started falling. We switched off the news and went back to Amelia’s music selection.
As we approached Cape Cod, it appeared we had already been devastated by an attack of sorts. Trees were down, buildings were blown apart, and power was still off. Stopping to find out what was responsible for all this carnage, we learned that the Cape and Islands had been visited by Hurricane Bob. It was a powerful fast moving storm that around the same time we left Montreal scooted over the Cape headed in a Northeast direction. Calm quickly returned but destruction wrought was extensive. Most mutilation occurred to trees. Even without power we were able to catch a ferry back to the island and spent a dark, quiet night in safety in our house which escaped any harm.


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Blog Archive

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.