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

Yin/Yang

Yin/Yang
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

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

The rest of the story, January 1975: Charleston, WV

At this time, the Interstate was not built through Charleston. That meant you had to travel through city streets to pick up on the other side of town. My ride ended somewhere in the middle of town. My driver, knowing the city left me off at 3 AM at a spot he deemed safe. In parting he handed me a small pinch of pot. I gratefully accepted, shook his hand and stepped out onto the deserted street.
There was no traffic, the weather seemed mild and I just loitered around a bus shelter waiting for my next ride. Having much time to think, I began to feel unsafe. I felt vulnerable standing alone this early in the morning and holding a small amount of contraband. I remembered stories about folks being sentenced to considerable stretches of time after being caught possessing just small amounts of marijuana. The stash in my pocket probably was a small enough amount to cause large problems should it be discovered by the wrong person.
Alongside the sidewalk where I was standing was a railing. The top rail was a metal tube that was open on the end. I decided to place my little stash in the end of the tube, in case I drew attention standing out in the early morning. Hardly had I finished hiding my hoard, when a city police car pulled up. The officer rolled down his window and instructed me to bring by pack and get in his car. I complied. After checking out my ID and finding I had no outstanding warrants, he offered me a ride across town to where southbound Interstate 77 commenced.
I felt I had no good reason to decline his offer, nor did it feel it appropriate to ask to step out and retrieve something from the railing before he drove me across town. As we took off, I bade a silent farewell to my hidden stockpile.
No sooner had we taken off when Saint Christopher in the guise of an Officer of the Law, asked, “Do many folks you meet on the road smoke pot?“ I felt a little unsure, but answered, “Well yah, lots of people these days are smoking and it seems the thing to do.” He quickly added, “Did you ever get turned on by a cop?” He smartly pulled a pin sized joint from his pocket, lit it up, inhaled deeply and handed it to me. All the way on our ride, I debated whether or not to make a request to turn back and retrieve my holdings from the railing. I made up my mind to leave it there to surprise the next person who happened to look into that end of a hollow tube. My guardian let me off at the bottom of the highway ramp and circled around a couple of times keeping an eye on me. Every time he passed we nodded or waved. Shortly a van load of kids on their way from Michigan to North Carolina to attend a Led Zeppelin concert scooped me up and got me out of Charleston.
©
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

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.