14 March

Poem: The Divine Old Dog Will Not Be Patronized

by Jon Katz
The Divine Old Dog Will Not Be Patronized
The Divine Old Dog Will Not Be Patronized

The Divine Old dog will not be patronized,

for her incompleteness, for her age,

by people who would pity her,

and feel themselves superior.

The Divine Old Dog rushes to the door,

demands to go out in the snow,

rushes to the whole where she knows

the woodchuck is hiding,

waits for him to come out,

so she can pounce,

challenges the other dog to play,

though she cannot run and jump,

lies down in the snow,

though her legs tremble,

and her wood stove is inside,

just a few feet away.

The other dogs rush to the door,

running from the wind, and the storm,

The Divine Old Dog looks away from them,

in contempt,

the snow thickening on her dark coat,

she looks back at the woodchuck hole.

The Divine Old Dog will not be measured,

by man,

or circumstance.

 

or patronized.

14 March

Icicles On A Barn Window. The Sun And The Winter Pasture Disagree

by Jon Katz
The Sun And The Winter Pasture
The Sun And The Winter Pasture

The sun and the winter pasture seem in disagreement to me, the sun is up early and strong, it stays late, it’s rays are confident and direct, not the fleeting glance of winter, where the sun passes by quickly, as if in a hurry to get somewhere else.

The winter pasture does not take instructions from the sun anymore, if it ever did. It is extending it’s stay a bit, it is not ready to go. Green sprouts are popping up in the ground, the Spring songbirds are in the trees, puzzled but their voices strong, the hens are beginning to lay again, grass is pushing its way up under the snow and ice,  lambs are struggling to drop out of lowered bellies. Mother Earth is not an orchestra, following the baton of one conductor, it seems, but a bunch of different symphonies, each with its own music and tempo.

Did the sun and the Winter Pasture every get along, I wonder, or have they always gone different ways? They always told me nature was in harmony, nature does not agree.

14 March

Magical Gift From A Magical Friend

by Jon Katz
Magical Gift From A Magical Friend
Magical Gift From A Magical Friend

George called me this morning and told me he had a gift for me, a printed, framed photo – “Cat Meditation” – one of my favorite photos. It was taken recently as Flo took up her sunrise pre-meditation cleaning on her cat stand by the window. I thought she was the essence of cat, her silhouette was striking, so was the color of the vase, and my camera setting whited out the background to help her stand out in the morning light.

I love this photograph, George did too, and he did an amazing job printing and framing it, we are hanging it on the mantle above the fireplace. Yesterday George had me come over and sign it, I was overwhelmed by the job he did with it. George is working hard on his book “The Way We Were.”

“I want all my photos to be magical,” he said, and I love that quote from him. Every thing George does is magical, and he is a magical friend as well. I am so grateful for this gift, George refused to take any money for it, he said it was a thank you for helping with his Kickstarter project. I am lucky to have a friend like George. George told me I should keep this photo, not sell it. I will.

14 March

New! News Ticker for www.bedlamfarm.com Coming Monday

by Jon Katz
Something New
Something New

Something new, something exciting for bedlamfarm.com coming Monday, a news ticker streaming across the top of the blog every day and all day bringing news of Bedlam Farm – lambs born,  upcoming stories and photos, book information, news of the dogs and donkeys, dazzling new things from Maria, links relating to the things we care about, announcements that will be running all day, different each day: You can get a sneak preview here. I got this idea walking in New York City, it is a new tool to use for me to talk directly with you, another way to communicate, to be informational, timely and lively.

I love the design of the site, but I want it to reflect the new world that most of us travel in, one that is moving, colorful, timely and about right now. I am definitely a now kind of guy. I want the site to feel and be alive, without losing it’s basic beautiful design, and the integrity of the photos and posts. There is also a lot of news that falls somewhere in between a blog post and a Facebook announcement. This will cover the gap.

I’m posting it on Facebook, you can comment on it there. Thanks again for your subscriptions to the blog, they help pay for bedlamfarm.com, my creative home, the centerpiece of my creative life. You are all a part of it and I thank you, and I thank my brothers and sisters at Mannix Marketing of Glens Falls, my partners in creating this blog and making it better all of the time, a great creative collaboration since it’s inception in June of 2007. See the News Ticker. Coming Monday.

14 March

Cat Meditation Friday: On Diddlers

by Jon Katz
On Diddlers
On Diddlers

Meditating with Flo this morning, diddlers came to mind. If I could learn to love diddlers, I might be close to achieving the spiritual grace and depth I have been seeking for years. I wonder if the Dalai Lama loves diddlers. I do not love diddlers, I have never liked them. The dictionary defines diddlers as cheats and swindlers, or more commonly, as time wasters.

I got a call from a writer this week, he told me his agent told him he needs to have a blog if he wants to sell any books in the digital age. I don’t read blogs, he said, how much time, he frequently, he asked, did I spend writing on mine. Several times a day, I said, sometimes more. He was aghast. He wasn’t going to waste that much time on it, he said. Maybe, he added, he could hire somebody to write on his blog every now and then, to give the appearance he was working on it.  A diddler, I thought, you can’t fake a blog, it is either the real deal or it isn’t.

I know the tone and style of diddlers, I run into them all the time. Lots of people who want to be writers or artists or actors are diddlers. John Updike said writers write, they don’t talk about writing, and creative people create, they don’t take too many workshops, or sit around reading the work of other writers, hoping some of it might sink in. Being creative is work, it takes time and discipline and commitment and some blood and sweat, you really can’t fake it, you just have to do it. I believe almost anyone can do it, we all have great stories inside of us, but there is no getting around the work.

I am approached all of the time by people who want to be writers, but once they understand they will have to work at it, they mostly find other things to do. Someone asked me last week if there was a phone number I could give her to find an agent. No, I said, there isn’t, you have to do what I did, write a lot of things and send them to a lot of people, most of whom will not like them. There is no 800 number for hard and committed work. I have watched my wonderful wife build her life as an artist, day after day, hour after hour, there is hardly a moment she is not working on her art, thinking about what to make, how to sell it, ship it, learn about it. She is not a diddler, I could not love a diddler.

I confess to having issues with diddling, it does make me a bit crazy. This is something I need to get over. People have to choose their own paths, find their own way, it is arrogant to assume I have a better path than theirs. I have learned in life that worthwhile things are usually hard to do, they usually take a lot of hard work and commitment. I have written on my blog almost every day since Memorial Day, 2007, there are more than 14,000 posts and thousands of photographs.

My blog has become the center of my creative life, it has inspired me, saved me, shaped my work life, helped me survive the cataclysmic changes that swept through the creative world – especially publishing – since the Great Recession. It is still growing, it is always changing, and it is big enough now to do some good, for me, for some other people. I will never take it for granted, see it as an interruption from my real work. It is my real work, and I wish for my writer friend that he comes to understand that before it is too late for him.

He is a diddler, alas, and I wish him good luck. As for me, I will work to love diddlers rather than condemn them, they are humans too.

Email SignupFree Email Signup