the mysterious spectrum - Horse Boy

poster photos by O. Rufus Lovett and Justin Hennard




A couple months ago I picked up the movie, Horse Boy while returning some of the kid's DVDs. I didn't have the time to watch it that week, so I catalogued it with the ever growing list of movies I intend to watch. This one in particular kept popping up, so I decided to make time.


Horse Boy is an insightful and moving documentary about a couple who's son is diagnosed with Autism and how they come to the decision to travel through Mongolia on horseback to visit nomadic Shaman in the hopes of finding help for their son. The movie touches on the connection between humans and animals, the increasing role fathers are taking in the development of their children, and the ties between cultures.


Autism is a core element to this story, but it acts as a symbol for so many other aspects of family life.

When people speak about Autism now, they speak about the spectrum. Because there are so many different ways that Autism manifests, it is extremely hard to make concrete rules for diagnosis. What each family needs will vary greatly, but I wonder if in some cases the struggle is being increased by our need to fit people so neatly into education systems and careers. One doctor in the movie points out that if you study the healers in other cultures, you will find that they all have something that we would label, "being on the spectrum" in this country. Are our environmental factors pushing over the edge a natural variation in human experience?

What do I know about this great mystery of the mind? Not much, but here's something I'm certain of - nature can heal. It brought tears to my eyes to see this father push to follow his instinct to keep his son close to the animals and the earth. And here's something else - some of the ways I see and hear things - ways of viewing the world that I find invaluable in my work, would land me somewhere on the autism spectrum. Seeing sound, tasting color, using language in "odd" ways, general sensitivity to my environment are all things that can be found on various Autism check lists.

What this film really drove home was that for many people the answer isn't going to come from an effort to fit the person into the lifestyle, but to find the lifestyle that fits the person. I hope parents can be open to that kind of flexibility whether the struggle stems from Autism or any number of other things. I'm asking myself right now to answer hard questions about where my family will flourish.

contentment and responsibility (sunbathing with a chicken)

Oh, the honest pleasure of soaking in the sun's rays close to someone you trust.

It's moments like this that evoke a feeling of pity for the human animal. Here we are with this miracle mind - one that harnesses wonders and dazzles with its explorations, yet can't make out a path to peace and abundance. It's the stories about the oil in the water, the poison on our plate, and the unending rotation of battle that make it apparent we forgot that balancing at such great heights requires responsibility.

When holding an animal that's content you realize that you pretty much require the same things to get there - a lack of hunger, companionship, and trust. I know, those things go by a lot of other names....if only being seduced by complications didn't cause so much harm.

waiting for paint to dry, next step in the 20x20 oil on panel double portrait

I've been busy working on the house with A while he's been home the past couple days, that and plenty of Summer playdates, playdates, playdates. I just now finished up a couple hours in the studio - A took the kids with him to Lowes.

I went into that door I was dreading - that kind of french scroll work is not my bag. I had the option of changing it, but find it such an identifying characteristic of the row houses in our neighborhood that I want to keep it in this portrait of the girls. I need to go in and chisel away at it and get to the details of the hands. It will nag me to look at it like this while I wait for the paint to dry enough, but I thought I'd share anyway and not edit my annoyances out of the process.

You can see the rest of the process here, here, and here

wonderfilling

After my last steamy post about the rising tensions in the city this time of year, I am happy to say I'll get a change of scenery in about a week. We're off to the mountains, you may have figured out by now that part of me lives there. Every trip to the country is a bit of a fact finding mission to evaluate how we could make our dreams of the great escape a reality.

Things I'm looking forward to the most this morning:

1. enjoying my morning coffee outside and listening to forest sounds.

2. sitting in the sun and watching the kids play in the springs.

3. being able to fill up my water bottle from a tap in the middle of town and know it's as good as the best bottled water.

4. dip in the bath house.

5. stop by roadside produce stands.

LETTING ALL THE SIMPLE LITTLE THINGS BE WONDERFUL...wonderfilling is free

anger (smoke up your ___)

I was downtown in heavy traffic the other day - the time of day when all the delivery trucks are double parked and people are cussing and fuming in the heat. I was heading toward a green light when a woman stepped out into the crosswalk with a ton of bags and a frappachino, I stopped in time for her to cross safely, but the man to my right barely did. After the screeching wheels, all that could be heard was a man crawling halfway out of his window screaming, "Why, why!!?? you #%&$ &^#*$!" his face was red, his teeth were flashing, and I feared he might fall right out of his beamer. This, along with the adrenaline of almost being hit, incited her rage and she came close to giving him a sticky, cold, mocha shower.

Behind his dirty mouth and flushed face were frightened fatherly eyes, and behind her cooler than coolatta veneer was a rushing heart and sizzling embarrassment - I felt bad for both of them.

Anger is intimidating, but it helps when you realize that anger is like the great and powerful OZ hiding behind the curtain operating the smoke and lights. It's a big step to challenge yourself to face anger with compassion, but it doesn't seem so daunting when you ask yourself what the anger you're facing is taking the place of - is it fear, hurt, loneliness... embarrassment? It may not be that love just comes pouring out upon the realization, but at the very least you will gain the perspective to confront the situation with more grace. I use the same approach with myself - instead of saying,"I am so angry!" I force myself to replace the word....and, unfortunately, there are times that the exchange happens in retrospect.

I don't know if it's because it's starting to heat up here in the city, but I've been reminded of this allot lately. I watch theatrical pageants of veiled emotion - all of it dressed up as anger.

my favorite way to enjoy plantains

This is a dish I enjoyed making with three generations of women in my husband's family some time ago. It's a vegetarian dish that takes the humble plantain and gussies it up a bit.

Make sure the plantains are pretty ripe for this recipe - you want them much riper than you would for tostones. In the picture you can see they are starting to turn black in spots, this means they're just starting to get soft and sweet inside. The plantain's skin is very protective, much more than a banana, so don't fear the blackening. If it really gives way when you squeeze, then they've ripened too much.

Take off the peel, cut them in half, and boil until cooked.

Place the cooked plantains in a bowl. Once they are cool enough to handle, slice them lengthwise and remove the middle seeds and vein. Usually these stay inside fried plantains, but these will be mashed and the texture and appearance will be improved by taking them out.

Now mash them like mashed potatoes.

Take the mash and place a gob in the palm of your hand, make a thumb print to stick some cheese into. I really can't remember what cheese was in the recipe the first time I had it, but it was similar to feta and I like the way feta's salty bite contrasts the sweet browned plantain. Pull from the sides of the ball to cover the cheese, you can add a little more mash to cover and then smooth it - just make sure the cheese is covered, but not lost. Place the ball in hot oil and fry. give it a gentle press with the spatula to flatten a little, but not enough to break it open.

Cook through till cheese is cooked and the outside is nicely browned and sprinkle with a little salt.

They are delicious with crema, or sour cream and pico de gallo.

O Pioneers!

When I was little I loved wandering away from the house and making a little home in the woods out of branches, blankets, and whatever I could haul along in a backpack or pillow case - these are some of my favorite memories. I learned a little about the trees and plants from my parents and would gather anything I knew I could eat - bunches of dandelion, sassafras, and mulberries. I loved the feeling of having my life in my own hands - it was a thrill to imagine I had to survive on the meager offerings of the forest.

Watching my daughter make a fort with her friend the other day, I started to think about how so many of the things that bring me happiness now are not that different. I want freedom like I felt when I wandered until I found a spot that was just right and made the most of what I could find. I welcome the challenge of figuring out how much nutrition I can get from the little plot behind my house, I like the the challenge of making a small home special and brilliant and I can actually say I enjoyed all the moves to new cities, standing in an empty flat and figuring out how it could feel like home in less than eight hours. I know this connection with freedom, survival, and challenge has sculpted my life. I've given up things others have told me were important to hold on to it, and as I understand more fully what's needed from all of us, I doubt myself less everyday.

I remember reading an article with Joel Salatin of Polyface Farm He was talking about the challenges of changing farming in America and how he often hears people bragging about their son or daughter who's a lawyer, or investment banker, but has never heard someone say with pride, "My son is a farmer!"

There are people who enjoy a different path to success and what this different perspective brings, we need. Hold onto that desire to be independent you felt a child, just know that real freedom might end up looking different than they told you it would.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!