Dear Friends,
It would seem appropriate to start
our New Year greeting with this picture of newborn twin Platypuses:
Note that plural is not Platypi -
Platypus is Greek, not Latin. Now here's why the Platypus has earned pole
position in the New Year greeting: the interface to its visual cortex is, like
ours, the eye. But only when it’s not diving. When diving, the interface
switches over to its beak; through sonar impulses picked up by those two
nostrils on the beak, its visual cortex creates a 3D image of everything under
water while the platypus’ eyes are closed. Because, nature. Platypus means
flat-foot. You would think they could come up with something a bit more
dignified for this extraordinary animal.
And that leads us almost inevitably
to my new profession, a Palmer. Wikipedia has this definition: In the
Middle Ages, a palmer (Latin: palmarius or palmerius) was a Christian Pilgrim,
normally from Western Europe, who had visited the holy places in Palestine, and
who, as a token of his visits, brought back a palm leaf. In 2014, however,
it means someone who makes organic ethanol, tapping dwarf palm trees while
boosting the yield with a secret sauce we developed in Sri Lanka. In the
excitement I have reserved the website www.driveorganic.com. And of course www.gmef.asia - both still under development.
But before it all gets too serious
and relevant, here's a lovely statue I found in Sri Lanka.
It's a great example of the difficulty
experienced by the arts before the invention of the selfie stick. We can
easily imagine the conversation taking place in the studio:
"Stop waving your arms like
that. I can't concentrate."
"What, you think it's easy
balancing on this fitness plate? I'm getting cramps."
"Just keep your arms still. And
be quiet."
"Can't you ask Dolly? I'm
getting cold, too. Can I put my shirt back on?"
"Listen, you stay where you are,
or I'll file a complaint with your union."
"But why can't I just wear my
shirt? This is embarrassing. Imagine if one day my son discovers a copy of this
sculpture under his classmate's bed? Then what? My name will be mud."
"Will you be quiet already?!
It's almost finished - two more days at the most. And stop waving those
arms."
And so the conversation must have
gone on and on. No wonder many artists went mad.
I also learned about the Buddha's Tooth, and more
specifically, this lovely story. The British had taken possession of the Tooth
Relic in 1815 to teach the Singhalese who was in charge. In 1828, Ceylon
experienced a punishing drought, and the Singhalese farmers demanded that the
tooth be paraded in Kandy to end the drought. The British Governor sir Edward
Barnes thought this would be a great opportunity to teach them a lesson about
superstition, and whose religious beliefs were superior, so he agreed.
Unfortunately, a couple of hours into the parade they had to call it off
because of sudden torrential rains. It didn't stop raining for weeks, and the
Governor's House had to be abandoned.
Finally, as we're on the subject of
indie art, Catherine starred in this video
from all of us to all of you.
Please accept our warmest greetings
for 2015
