PATTERN

When they built the M60 round Manchester they had to raise it above the Mersey floodplain to the south of the city. So they excavated gravel nearby and then flooded the huge hole left to provide a recreational area - Sale Water Park - and to help with flood defences over the riverplain. Sometimes, after heavy rain, I go down to the river to the far side of one of the sluice gates to watch the charging runoff. The power of the water coursing through is mesmerising. It roars and churns and roils and some deep instinct makes me take a step back. In quieter weather I often take a walk around the lake and my eye is always attracted by the reed beds dotted along its shores. There is an almost calligraphic precision to the angles of the reed stalks. Like this.

It's hard not to pause and think about the nature of pattern. Is it possible that what appears as chaotic is simply a failure on our part to grasp a bigger context and that what attracts the eye in a scene is some sort of recognition of that?

PROVIDENCE AND THE PREPARED MIND

I came across this quote recently and it set me wondering.

“Until one is committed there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.  Concerning all acts of initiative there is always one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred.  A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man would have believed would have come his way.  I learnt a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”

It’s from The Scottish Himalayan Expedition by W H Murray (1913 – 1996), a mountaineer and writer whom I had vaguely heard of, I think – and seems to be quite well known.  According to Wikipedia the quote from Goethe is a very loose  translation.

As I thought about it the Nike strapline “Just Do It!” leapt into my mind.  Notionally the two seem to be on a par - the common idea being that you must stop thinking and launch yourself. But not so fast. Almost half a century separates the Nike (1988) from from the Murray quote (1951) and we might see the two as expressions of their respective times.  What Murray is saying is that once you have committed to a course of action then there will be helping hands.  Fortune favours the prepared mind, in a sense.  There may be a long period of preparation before you embark on the project itself but once you have assessed the risks and put your doubts to one side you will have the wind at your back. There are two stages: commitment and then action.

The Nike quote on the other hand is very much of our modern times. It makes no distinction between commitment and action. It is a celebration of the impulsive. There is plenty about its provenance on the internet for those who study these things but what interests me is that Nike apparently sees it as a philosophy promoting athleticism and self-confidence.  I read it as a slogan by a company trying to sell you stuff. It’s not athleticism that they are celebrating but consumption. Just buy it! The last thing they want is for you to start reflecting on the nature of your impulse.

Murray was philosophising full stop while Nike is dressing up advertising as philosophy.  I can’t help seeing that as a sign of the times. 

Now here’s a nice contemplative photo of mine to calm us down.

Leaf: Olympus OM1; Delta400@800; DDX

MEDITATION

(An experiment with text and image)

Sometimes, floating away, I find myself in a beautiful city, not unlike Paris perhaps, where broad boulevards are dotted with attractive and civilised people chatting, strolling, sitting on benches and enjoying the sunshine.  Often they approach me and ask whether I have seen this or that cultural site or to alert me to a new and humane text which has been published or to the latest parkland blossoms flowering nearby.  Cool breezes temper the warmth and I am filled with a sense of well-being at the prospect of happy hours ahead.  I cannot help noticing however that crowds are gathering around monitors where flickering letters and numbers, supported by distant and indistinct announcements, seem to be about some form of lottery or game of chance.  These are not the final results it appears, but some sort of interim stages of a process whose beginning and end are no longer of consequence.  Yet each time I approach a monitor myself to see if I can decipher its display I find that another denizen of this charming though curious city has taken me by the elbow and is enquiring after my health, directing me to a particularly beautiful viewing spot or otherwise distracting me from those subtly glowing screens.