A Nocturnal Pedestrian

Several nights ago, when I was cycling home, I almost ran over a hedgehog had my bicycle light not captured its crawling figure in the absolute darkness.

I braked in the nick of time and was luckily enough to avoid two misfortunes simultaneously: having the hedgehog injured and having the tire flat. Apparently, both of us were shocked. The little creature immediately rolled into a thorny ball and refused to move at all. I tried in both languages, English and Mandarin, to persuade it to go either forward or backward. But it stubbornly denied my kind suggestion: it remained stupefied and motionless.

Worried that it might get hit by another vehicle in such a dark night, I decided to help it move. I pushed it slowly with my feet toward the pavement. It was still resisting but started 'rolling' at last. It took several gentle kicks and about 5 minutes to return it safely to the corner.

Hopefully it is happy and safe now.

Next time when you try to cross road at night, it might be a good idea to speed up a little bit.


Photo from Think Spiky.

Further to my previous discoveries of cat-on-the-wall (cats 1 and cats 2) in York, here is my new finding: a cat on the wall of Barnitts. I was initially attracted to the public clock in order to confirm my time, but the small black object underneath entered into my eye.

The encounter has delighted me on the way to a supervision. : )

I hope this adventure in York continues.

What can I do with unfinished paints?

Today was spent in a luxurious manner for painting. I had been drafting a blueprint for a week since my return from the northern city, Edinburgh. An art plan for my impressions of Edinburgh. Colors had to be applied to the ghost draft before all of the colors became discolored amongst endless routines and works.

I visited Edinburgh in time before winter properly settled in. Autumn was still there in the gardens, on the hills, in the air and the sunset.
The autumn sun was even somehow tanning. It graced the rocky landscape with a golden color and gave it a look of content.

Autumn

The weather has been much better in autumn than in summer this year: steady temperature, regular sunshine with no shower intervals.
Heart-warming is the autumnal color. It wraps up the world in a fabulous fruitfulness, upon which the afternoon sunshine gives highlight.

I have started feeling nostalgic before any departure that has to be taken.

Gateau de Legumes (Vegetable Cake/Bread)

A curious name it is for this salty bread of bacon. The word 'legumes' provoked my imagination of lettuce, mushroom,carrot, pea, etc., but none of them is in the recipe. Perhaps, it proved that my imagination is still highly charged with Asian dietary. Instead, olives, bacon, dried tomato, and cheese are added.

A good side-dish for dinner or for a quick lunch!

For me, baking is more like a punctuation mark that signals intervals between works. It always helps me recuperate energy for next stage. There are occasions on which I do baking amongst endless works, and curiously those products have never been satisfactory. Something un-nameable is always missing in the flavor. The recipe is the same one, and I am quite a careful cook when it comes to baking. I follow word by word, literally, on the recipe even if I have done it for hundreds of times. No kidding.

Perhaps it's the absent-mindedness that makes the difference, a whole-hearted willingness is missing.

Today's read
Funny and ironic enough is that when I was checking out this news, the advertisement of a brand new release by Saab was hovering over the headline on the web page, was partially blocking the vision, and stubbornly denied any attempt to close it.

'Melting ice cap brings diamond hunters and hopes of independence to Greenland'---the Guardian Online

'But rather than putting her faith in mineral wealth, Mrs Hammond believes that her country's best prospect of buying its independence lies in hydro-electricity. The vast lakes and melting ice cap provide enormous potential for electricity free from fossil fuel and the Greenland government is negotiating with Alcoa, an aluminium company, to built the world's second largest smelter. No contract has been signed but the minister hopes this project will provide 3,500 much-needed jobs.

It was ironic, she says, that climate change had melted the ice sufficiently for prospectors to move in, and that might in turn give the nation its independence. A referendum in Denmark had shown a majority in favour of granting Greenland home rule. "We hope it will happen soon."

But Professor Minik Rosing, of the University of Copenhagen, who was born in Greenland, believes it would be a disaster if his country had a big oil find and used the revenue to buy independence. "As everybody gets more desperate for that commodity you do not want to be a very, very small, very independent country, very far from anywhere else. Much better to stay with the friend you know."

A major mineral find could be catastrophic, he said. "With such a small population we could be overwhelmed by people coming to work here. We should be cautious of suddenly finding ourselves in the minority."

'

I have kept a bag of organic apples during this week, and they have been soothing my fatigue that accumulates during the day! Those organic jewels are small enough that I can hold them tight in my palm, a good size for a couple of satisfactory bites after breakfast or before dinner. Excellent taste!

On another day in the library, a lady was sitting next to me in the computer room eating. Of course, eating is absolutely disallowed in the library! But she was even eating an apple! And doubtlessly her enjoyment was creating an enormous crunching sound 'echoing' in the room. I side-glanced at her and her food. Curious was that her apple had a lot of bruises, or to put it more accurately, a lot of holes spreading over its surface. That was also a palm-size apple, and the size of which made the cluster of wounds even more noticeable. Perhaps she had put the apple together with a pointy pen in her handbag, I guessed.

When I was looking out from the window today in my study room in the library. I found the apple tree right outside of it leaden with fruit now. And suddenly I saw that most of these green apples shared the same feature with the apple in the computer room. They were bruised and damaged in a quite identical way: now I know, birds* must have pecked them before the reach of anybody else!

The mystery about that apple in the computer room is now solved!

* I have a new discovery today, they are ravens! : )

My Worry Doll

A friend and I went to York Theatre Royal to see a play this afternoon: Silly Billy. It's adapted from a book by Anthony Browne.

Children's theatre has been very remote from me as most of the time I am quite scared of kids, especially when they are excited, shouting and screaming out of a reason that is not always clear to me. Anyway, it's a very colorful and dynamic presentation, and the story is composed with subtlety. The kids proved to be excellent company. (Of course, it's a children's theatre!)

The worry dolls from Maya legend are important to the story. These roughly fabricated but colorfully clothed small dolls are said to be able to carry away worries that haunt their keepers.
I found the idea interesting to keep a doll which can worry instead of you.

'You have to tell your worries to the dolls' is the first step. It is the act of 'speaking about the worries to another person' that allows the subject to let go of his/her worries. But the keeping of the worried dolls underneath one's pillows is quite curious to me, for the act of keeping the dolls is an alternative way to keep one's worries in another form of existence. The worried subject, still, has his hand on the worries in an even more concrete form of a doll than that of shapeless imagination.

Before today, I used to think that in the Maya legend, these dolls should be thrown into fire after they fulfill their function. If it is the case, when the dolls are burned down to ashes, the worries are supposedly gone with the smoke. It is admittedly cruel and heartless, I agree.

Comparatively, it's rather humanistic to save these dolls. But what is this bothering fact that the worries are carried on within the dolls? I don't know, perhaps, it's in fact a very subtle and metaphorical way of suggesting that not a single worry will disappear, but every worry can live in a less disturbing existence.

Photo: A worry doll, a souvenir from the play.

A happy angel I met in the library

I saw a friend in the library today. It's been a while since last time we saw each other.

She was as friendly as usual, but she was somehow a bit different, I felt. Her smile radiated brilliant happiness, very hyper in spirit and excited. The apparent excitement was quite unusual according to her rather steady temper.
Then she said she had a good news to tell me: she is engaged! We gripped tight each other's hands and screamed exultingly a voiceless scream in the corridor in the library.
Another 18 months to expect the wedding! I am so pleased for her!

The good news kept me smiling for the rest of the day.
Congratulations!

On the way to the city this evening, I saw a girl crying.
Her emotion was struggling through her throat to break through the body making hoary sounds. The dusky night shaded my vision to track any trace of tears.
Her cry sounded dry, devoid of liquid.

I wonder for what reason she was crying.

The sound of her emotion was no more than another random note to the music of the night.
Passing.
So will be the cause.

Atonement

I have liked the title, atonement, and have been very interested in the idea of penitence. But in fact the green dress on Keira Knightley, the leading actress, is more the reason that I was firstly drawn to the film. The robe is in a mysteriously and sensually green especially against the backdrop of the deep and enormous garden on that dark and unsettling night.


It is a very good story narrated along a stream of poetic images in the film. Beaming sunlight blurs the contour of reality; buzzing flies tickle itchy ears; the penetrating sound of strings stings the youthful and passionate skin. Hollow echoes draw that summer afternoon to a temporary horizon of silence when water swallows up impatient souls.

The crime committed on that summer day remains and continues through an ever-renewed remembering and an impossible forgetting.

Walking? or Dancing? in the Rain.
Neither.

I was asked this question, 'is the song "walking" or "dancing" in the rain?'. I lost the grasp of my memory about the title and somehow failed to come up with an answer. 'Dancing', I said, with much hesitation and a little pretentious arrogance recalling the musical in which the leading actor happily dances in a pouring rain.

But neither dancing nor walking is right after my chance discovery in the cyberspace today. The song is in fact 'Singing in the Rain'. What a trivial thing that I am fussing about now!! However, I do feel embarrassed or, more appropriately, upset about my being incorrect. I even wrote an entry about the musical early this year but still couldn't remember its title. Symptoms of senility. There is nothing seriously wrong about being incorrect in this case perhaps, if only distressing.

It is not the fact of forgetting the correct title that is bothering. I was making decisions between two GIVEN choices, dancing or walking, but forgot that a possible answer is located outside the choices. This forgetfulness is worrying.

Disappointing is the frequency that 'alternatives' do not always seem to be apparent to me.

L got married.



It's been a while after L's wedding in June. I just saw the photos of the ceremony these days and was again touched by the beauty and the significance that this event was meant to be. She was extremely pleased and was surrounded by friends and beloved families. It was a shame that I was unable to attend her wedding.



L and I have been friends for almost 12 years since the first day of our university life. We and four other girls shared a room in NCCU female dormitory for an entire year. Six of us in total. That was an extraordinary year for all of us, I think, or at least for me: trying to know and to get used to each other, especially it is perhpas the first time for all of us to live far away from home. We also enjoyed an extraordinary excitement in exploring Taipei city by scooters. Riding through empty streets on countless midnights. After the first year, we continued living close to each other almost for the rest of the 3 years before completing the degree.

L is such a different woman, realistic but temperately and pleasantly imaginative. Although she always thinks that she has a rather rash temper, in fact a very tender and caring friend she is.

Our friendship went through ups and downs at some turns during these years, and thankfully L is such an open-minded and passionate person that she tolerated my quirkiness. We hadn't seen each other for years before a meet-up last December when she told me this news about her marriage.

After that, she kept me updated about their preparation for the new house, the wedding and the photo-shooting, and she told me the date as soon as they'd reached a decision. She kindly shared with me every bit of happiness in the process. Their smiles are charming, so tenderly reflecting each other's good nature.

Happy marriage and blissful future together to L and her husband!

In March 2007, some of my coursemates and I went to Gregynog Hall in Wales to attend a Palaeography workshop. It was my first time to journey to Wales, and have liked it tremendously! Fields and endless fields spread out in front of us, sheep and horses and piglets scattered across the vast tapestry of green. Sweet smell of grass and tender breeze. Nature is such a gift of grace.

I recalled a cake that I made a while ago, a cake themed Yorkshire Dale with plenty of sheep merrily wandering around. (Although I had heard about some really naughty sheep which trampled down gardens and farmlands in the countryside and although I also had been told about the evil nature of these 'pretentious' creatures...)

I did my laundry today, and the smell of lavender of the washing powder is now lightening the heavy and thick air on such a humid day. I am reminded of the sweet and refreshing smell that I encountered in Wales.

Go to see photos of my trip to Wales, including Gregynog Hall and an involuntary but pleasant detour to Shrewsbury.
(I am trying this new place to house my photos and have been excited about the 'map photos' function that Piscsa provides.)

National Palace Museum, Taiwan

The National Palace Museum in Taiwan (here after the NPM) is one of the best museums in the world and definitely the best place to explore Chinese culture and history. It is incomparable in its comprehensive collection of quality Chinese art.

In recent years, the NPM in Taiwan won several important international awards that recognized its creative maneuver in managing the museum, in particular, in its efforts in transforming the culture of antiques into a fashion.

It might still be a fashion of culture tourism, but more significantly, it also creates a fashion for museum culture. The NPM has introduced a new lens of technology through which ideas of past, history, and culture could be seen from a up-to-date viewpoint.

I am frequently appalled by some popularized forms of culture, to be honest. However, efforts in makingthe so-called high-brow culture in museums 'popular' and 'known', like what the NPM is making, have to be appreciated. New technology adds a modern flavor to the hidden beauty of objects from the past, and this modern touch also meets the expectation to draw closer to each other the modern audience and the artifacts.

One of the NPM movies that I have been intrigued by is the 'Adventures in the NPM'. The story takes place on a quiet night in the NPM where national treasures all come alive and run in search for a missing katydid.

Follow the click below for a view of the film:

Adventures in the NPM

(Originally downloaded from the NPM website)

This 3-D animation stars a small child, whose image is derived from an artwork of NPM's collection--"Child Pillow"--a ceramic pillow that is molded into a sleeping upper-class child. Another star in the film is a katydid, probably the most valuable insect in the world. The katydid is drawn from another famous work of art: a jadeite cabbage upon which a katydid perches. The film is also narrated against a stream of images, which is made up of some of the most representative features of Chinese art: calligraphy, dragon, plump ladies from Tong dynasty, etc..

Every click on the NPM website ushers me into my memory of such a rich culture that I grew up with. Every turn of the web-page provokes unceasing amazement that I once had in the classroom of Chinese art years and years ago.

Let's talk more about this place in the future.


More reading:
* The news of the premium of 'Adventures in the NPM';

More adventures:
* National Palace Museum in Taiwan

A man and his muddy dog

On a morning early this summer, on a fence in the neighborhood stood two toys: a man and a dog. 'Are they lost?' I wondered. On that same afternoon, I was surprised again to find them there, still, except that the man changed his pose.

The mud on that toy dog was curious: traces of so much memory and time that had gone passed. He must have just been dug out of soil where it was buried some time ago. Why was it buried in the first place? Perhaps the keeper was suspecting any possible loss of this toy, or plotting to make the dog carry out a certain mission.

The toy man in a technician's costume has a peculiar vividness in his body and feature. He was made with so many joints. Must be very agile! Did he come with a girlfriend? just like Barbie and Danny* were made a couple.


I was thinking, is there any toy like them hidden in my garden back home?




* 'Danny', a mistaken figure for 'Ken'. Thanks to a live-in commentator's reminding. [emendation made on 3/08/07]

A Wedding


and Some thoughts





R and H got married last Saturday in a small church in Surrey. The ceremony and the banquet were well-tuned by several readings from the Bible, a reading of sonnet 18 of Shakespeare, and several moving speeches.


H the groom talked about his appreciation of his new wife and about the un-conpromised happiness that their match has created. He said R has brought him plentiful of joy and has offered him unlimited care. He put the beauty of R's virtue thus in words, '... R. forgives and forgets ...'.

The entire speech was footnoted with the speaker's good sense of humor and punctuated by intervals of burst of laughter. It helped us to envision their firm mutual commitment and projected an image of a future life of felicity that they are going to work on with their original families.


The two words, 'forgiving' and 'forgetting', lingered in the air, and I started musing on the relation between these two acts.



The alliteration between 'forgiving' and 'forgetting' might have made the two words sound easy and therefore light, but somehow they are two really difficult things to achieve, especially if we are talking about wrongs and faults in terms of managing a relationship.

It is not difficult to forget and then forgive, since, supposedly, the point of argument is buried in/or erased from the pool of memory and therefore the reason for the fight ceases to be. No worries for further consequent discord.

To forgive and then to forget is more a challenge, I suppose. It requires a generous heart, mature mind, and sympathetic reasoning. One has to reason with his/her own anger and the irritation that is provoked in him/her, then to extend his/her sympathy and affection to the partner, and is able to release both parties from the confrontation in the end.

It is in this process of reasoning with one's own emotion and in the process of clarifying the problem that 'forgiving' is enabled. In forgiving, forgetting is initiated, not in the sense that one represses the unpleasant past, but in the sense that one becomes considerate and understanding. Then the mutual affection is embodied and the emotional bond is strengthened.

Perhaps there isn't anything like complete forgetting, i.e. failing to track any trace of memory. Forgiving and forgetting are on the one hand, I suppose, removing the negative emotion, but on the other, remembering the affectionate bond that ties the the couple together in the beginning.

Time in York

A number of clocks stand on several corners in the city of York, providing, presumably, references to time. Most of the time, however, these clocks seem to forget their duty especially when they forget time themselves or when they tell the wrong time. The rather slow life pace of this medieval town, however, does not seem to reflect the need of these time controllers. Compelling people to walk faster? or to slow down? or just to present themselves as nice companions? I haven't found any massive digital clock here, fortunately. Watching and hearing clocks ticking away time are such a 'luxurious' and 'expensive' habit, I have to admit, but I really enjoy it.

Colors of these clocks are important. They are obviously the primary feature that drew my attention to these circular signs of modern life.

The bareness of time.









Green time for food and grocery.









Telling time before the house of God is very daring!









Brick red time invites me to a cup of tea.









This blue clock on the white building of the tourist information centre is always my favorite. The glossy blue frame is very eye-catching just like a piece of blue sky on a cloudy day: inspiring excitement and hope.







This is a very beautiful clock outside of a small church in the city centre. It looks grey-green on cloudy days, crystal blue on sunny days. A trumpeter is standing right above the clock, trumpeting soundlessly the time of the day. I found this idea of the trumpeter of time telling and clever: time passes without making any sound, but it has an imminent presence that voices itself so loud that can hardly be ignored.

An additional finding to my collection of cats in my search for animals in the city of York.
These two cats were spotted near King's Arm before Ouse Bridge.

Chicago, Kalamazoo (MI), and New York City: 09-17/May/2007


Intersection of sacred and secular spaces

Perhaps I really need more time so as to appreciate the beauty and the character of New York, one of the most legendary cities in the world. Before my trip, almost everybody I talked to told me that 'it's an amazing city', 'everything is happening in that city', or 'you will definitely love it'.

Yes, it is amazing, and indeed everything seems to be possible there, but, it is impressive in a very imposing way, at least, to me. Perhaps I have been too relaxed in the Old York, so that New York is too fast, too loud , and too busy.

The rapid rhythm and loud melody of New York City is driving every passenger forward, and further forward, mercilessly. However, this ever-faster movement from one block to another, from one street to another, from one metro station to another, is curiously slowed down every now and then by parish churches or cathedrals which are resting on some block corners.

I didn't expect to find so many sacred spaces in this 'very' secular place. By saying that it is a 'very secular' city, I mean, this is a city that seems to allow every kind of human material desire to be pushed to an extreme: most people are here or come here with a hope that their desire will be answered.

Trinity Church stands right at the intersection of Broadway and Wall Street: its soaring pinnacles counter-balance the skyscraper in their close confrontation. St. Paul's chapel is facing Ground Zero, echoing a solemn memory of loss.

St. Bartholomew's church sits right on Fifth Avenue with comfort and ease among an endless flow of traffic and man.

It was around noon when we arrived. The staircase that leads to the entrance of St. Bart's was taken up by people who snatched themselves away from half day's work. Some of them were chatting, some talking on the phone, some eating lunch, some reading, resting, watching Fifth Avenue, or just idling. The stairs between the busiest and the most lavish street in the world and the church yield a liminal space between the secular and the sacred, between excitement and tranquility, between real work and real rest, between sound and silence. Perhaps, for some people, it is also a boundless small area in which the soul and the body are granted a chance to encounter.

My entering into St. Bart's after a long walk in the stinging sunlight transformed my curiosity and surprise at the discovery of these quiet religious presences into an appreciation. Grateful to their steady and silent company.

On my travel map, they look just like scattered stars anchoring the city in an irresistible material flood.

Fifth Avenue is behind the gate and the window.

Print: Richard Fozard's 'Five Geese a' Cackling'

An Afternoon Detour to York Art Gallery

After a reading group meeting 'again' 'accidentally' taking place on a Bank Holiday Monday, I stepped in York Art Gallery. I was drawn to an exhibition, 'Richard Fozard: Printmaker', by this image of geese on its recent brochure.

Richard Fozard was a prinkmaker in Leeds, his works were inspired by the natural environment of Yorkshire Dale and were meant to represent the beauty that he had enjoyed. 'Five Geese a' Cackling' is a print from a woodcut. The rough and vibrant lines of shadow and light present a very dynamic composition. I breathed the air of solidarity that the ink and the lines create upon the paper, thinking the texture of paper, wood, and ink.

The show room was small, the size of the exhibition was mini, the other works were not entirely impressive, but this afternoon break in the company of these geese was pleasant enough for me to get ready for another half day's work.

Cloud, Sky, and Houses, on the way home

I was remembering some proto-images of landscape that I used to draw when I was small. They were about my imaginations of home.
Always, there were white and marshmallow-like clouds, blue sky, red brick houses, triangular roofs, square windows, plus trees as fence.



Poetic sky filmed in the neighborhood.

Chicago, Kalamazoo (MI), and New York City: 09-17/May/2007

One more reason to love Chicago!

Cloud Gate by Anish Kapoor, an Indian artist based in London, rests in Millennium Park in Chicago city. I missed it last year owing to bad weather on the day that we planned to pay our visit. It was not mentioned in my guidebook (it seemed) as it was just dedicated to the city sometime right after my trip (May 2006) even though its completion is noted to be sometime much earlier, in 2004.

At first I wondered what it was when I saw this 'Bean', its nickname, everywhere on postcards.

It is such an impressive and fascinating artwork that fully engaged my attention and stimulated every fiber of my body when I stood right in front of it this year, 2007. Snatching some 15 minutes before my train to Kalamazoo from Chicago, I did visit this giant 'bean'. The sight stimulated tremendous visual enjoyment and amazement and drew a smiling curve on my lips!

What a clever idea of Anish Kapoor!!

Looking at the work, I saw the skyline of this city of skyscrapers be entirely absorbed on its glossy surface. (Imagine what sight it will offer if we have any chance to take a look of it from above!) Everything is contained within this work in spite of the unmeasurable vastness of the city. The real skyline stretched out in front of me when I turned my eyes to see the real world.

It is a gate, as I suppose what its name--Cloud Gate--suggests, that greets visitors to the city. It is a bean, a name that I somehow prefer, a nickname that denotes its position as the origin and the beginning point of any organic development. Life begins in a bean (no matter what kind it might be), and a bean has everything to nourish the life that grows from it. The microcosmic vision of the bean leads us to witness and imagine how the entire city grew out of and is maturing in a talented and artistic temper.

Chicago, Kalamazoo (MI), and New York City: 09-17/May/2007

Aki and I kind of want to know who the guy in blue shirt and sunglasses is.

We had to pass by Trump International Hotel in Columbus Circle quite often every day during our stay in New York. There were always some people (fans? or amateur journalists) , equipped with notepads, photos, and cameras, waiting outside the entrance, while we always 'happened' to carry grocery bags with us. Apparently he is not unpopular. Some photos were taken and autographs were given at the request of enthusiastic folks.

Who is he, by the way?

Objects

A miniature of St. James is now standing on my book shelf, it is a present from A. We had between us a secret code of miniatures of sacred figures, nothing to do with any religion seriously though. A started this idea. After our exchange of these objects and after it has stayed in my collection for a while, I gradually understood why and how this idea of possessing objects like this sparkled in her mind years ago when we first met. Nowadays whenever I hold it in my palms, the solid substance provides a steady center to which all of my untamed thoughts orient, and its concreteness gravitates the course of my unfounded worries. It is not anything magical or spiritual, I would say, it's more to do with the idea that it's a material substance that is able to distract its holder from an alter world of fancy. Or it is the connection bewteen friends that is created by these miniatures that assures me.
Thanks for passing on this steadying force, A.




J, a friend from my primary school days, just gave birth to a baby girl. I went to see her last week in New York, the first meeting after a couple of long years.
This tooth fairy was a present to her and her girl, Audrey. It was meant to preserve baby's first teeth. (Before discussing with the shop assistant, I had no idea that it will take 6 to 7 years to have baby teeth fallen though!!) Perhaps I was just too fond of this fairy that I resisted any other more appropriate and perhaps more reasonable choices. Although it won't be immediately in use, I insisted giving it to the new mother and the newborn. (A very stubborn gift-giver, I know!) However, it seems to be an excellent choice in the end, I think. Audrey is just like a princess who is loved well by her caring and loving parents.
I have no doubt that the young parents' love for each other and their innate kindness will nourish princess Audrey until the day when she will pass on this love. An emotional tie that binds together generations who sing the same melody of family.
The tooth fairy is not only a tooth fairy, I hope, she is also a fairy assistant to Audrey's fairy-like parents that will accompany this girl into her maturity.

Roses 2007 in York

R had been practicing hard for this competition of dance between the university of Lancaster and the university of York. Amazingly but not surprisingly, he and his dance-mate won 4 champions in the end, that actually means that he won every single competition.

R's parents and grandmother were very supportive. They drove all the way from the north to York to share with him his excitement and to witness the presentation of his efforts. They cheered for him and were very proud of his performance. R's mum is a very nice lady. She was always looking at her son with pride and joy, with smiles in her eyes.

She told me that she and R's father came to know each other through dance when they were doing their first degree, and she was so happy to see R dancing.

I like this lovely family story, a story that brings the whole family together.

Spring in York

Paths to libraries: JBM library and York Minster library on a sunny day.

Spring in Hyde Park (1/April/2007)




The re-energizing English Spring is around again.
Hyde is now colorful again with daffodils, green meadows,






rosy cherries (? not very sure about the species),









and ever-beloved tulips.











Also, Hyde is vigorous again with a pair of fighting bears,











a happy dog with its balloon-making keeper (a very spring-way to walk dog, believe me! Look at the curve of joy of its body!!),








well-fed squirrels,









plus a pair of swans in the pound.