Deep River by Shusaku Endo

This book review is my third one as part of the 1% Well-Read Challenge where I am reading one book per month from the 1,001 Books You Must Read Before You Die list...

This book is written by critically acclaimed Japanese author Shusaku Endo with translation by Van G. Gessel.

This book is about a group of Japanese tourists who travel to Hindu's Holy City of Varanasi and the River Ganges. As the group witnesses tremendous displays of religiousity, spirituality and faith, the reader is privy to each character's internal dialogue and how each person psychologically processes the experience-- either finding or failing to find their own faith.

Isobe is grieving for his dead wife whom he ignored his whole life; Kiguchi is haunted by his memories of The Road to Death in the jungles of Burma during WWII; and Numada is recovering from a serious illness and has found great strength from his relationships with animals. But, it is the last two characters, Otsu and Mitsuko, who are my favorites...

Mitsuko, is a cynical young woman who lacks a spiritual compass yet is smart enough to grapple with her internal emptiness and search for meaning within her unhappy life -- though in a very selfish way. Mitsuko and Otsu first cross paths in College where Mitsuko notices him for his determination to do good and pursue his path to God, though he is cast as a nerd and socially backward. Mituko toys with him, and on the dare of her mean friends, Otsu becomes the brunt of a cruel and harsh joke set out to debase him and rock him from his sense of "goodness".

They both leave college, Mitsuko goes on searching for something to fill the void within herself and Otsu goes on to a seminary to attempt to become a Catholic Priest -- when he ultimately fails to be accepted to official religious life by the Catholics, the Buddhists, and the Hindu monks -- because he refuses to accept ONE relgious path at the exclusion of all others -- he ends up serving the poor and being poor himself -- the ultimate imitator of Christ on earth - and Mitsuko can't help but seek him out over and over again throughout the novel-- to tempt him, to revile him, to spit upon him, and yes, ultimately, in order to love herself.

The reader is taken on a spiritual journey as the characters make their pilgrimage to the Holy City of Varanasi and we are left to our own internal inquiry as the author builds a critique of modern society -- a society that seems to lack moral substance and is headed nowhere.

I can't tell you much more than that without giving it away. But this book is powerfully written and the reader's course is well-plotted so that we, too, are on a religious pilgrimage, if we allow ourselves the debate.

Shusaku Endo is a prize-winning Japanese writer and one of his novels, Silence, about two Jesuit missionaries who travel to Japan in the 17th century, is being made into a movie by Martin Scorsese for release in 2010. Evidently, Mr. Scorsese was also moved by Shusaku Endo's work. I commend him for shunning the big-explosion, mass-movie appeal of the spiritually-shallow modern blockbuster, and deciding to produce and direct a movie that deals with the journey of mankind to find God. Mr. Scorsese understands that this one may not pack the movie theaters like Spiderman but says, "this one is done for the heart." Bravo!

I recommend this book highly and will definitely be reading other books by Shusaku Endo. My book for June in the 1% Well-Read Challenge is Snow by Orhan Pamuk.

Foundations

Thank you so very much for all the Congratulations and Liberty Love from my last two posts. I'm still basking in the afterglow of all that fun!

I had an MRI on my hip on Tuesday and I'm happy to report that I don't have a stress fracture or a muscle tear. It appears as if I have inflammation of the ligaments/sac that form a protective seal around the hip joint. Huh, I didn't even know I had one of those! I can walk and sit pain-free, but when I go to stress the area by running or biking hard -- it makes itself known. Looks like I have a few weeks of rest and I'm hoping that will take care of it. I can still swim though...which makes me happy...


Not much to show today since I'm starting by April BJP. I'm really pushing to get this done very quickly so that I can get caught up with May and June by the end of June. Fingers crossed.

This piece has another three-dimensional element on it -- like the nest in my March BJP. I very much want the piece to protrude from the background so I've fused the shape onto wool felt and backed it with the interleaving paper that Robin suggests. After it's beaded, I plan to back it in another material to cover the stitching. I'm hoping that all the layers will lend substance to the mysterious "outcropping". Oh well, if the experiment doesn't work, I may have to send you all 3-D glasses...

All will be revealed in due time -- I know, it's not very sexy right now, prep work just isn't sexy -- it's like functional underwear...not the sexy, Victoria's Secret underwear...but the white, bleachable comfortable underwear...

not that I own any of that...

Liberty Ladies (Part Two)

(Warning** : This is Part Two of a two-part picture-laden story of five strong and courageous Liberty Ladies who participated in the Liberty to Liberty Triathlon, taking ourselves from the Statue of Liberty in New York City to the Liberty Bell/Museum of Art in Philadelphia.)

OK. Sorry for leaving you hanging but there were a lot of pictures to share to tell this story and I know there are still friends out there with slow download speeds who curse my blog for its download time -- I was trying to be sensitive for once...

And, why was the swim canceled? They claimed weather but it was a beautiful morning so I posted my opinion at the bottom of this post for those who are interested in reading it, if you'd like...

OK, back to our story...after our start, we bikers headed out onto the roads of New Jersey...and it was beautiful, horse country. The ride was not hilly but it was hot and humid that day and we had a fairly strong headwind.

That's where this Liberty angel comes in.


This is my friend Laurie -- those of you who have been reading since last Summer might recognize her and Maura from their triumph over the Lake Placid Ironman. And Maura was also that doll of a friend who did this...

Well, Laurie is just plain tough -- physically and mentally. She is a powerful athlete, having competed in marathons and triathlons for over five years or so. And, God bless her, Laurie had appointed herself my "wing man" for the day -- she wasn't leaving this wounded bird no matter how slow I became -- no way, no how. Oh, how I love her.

OK. So I just wanted to make it the whole way to Philly without being picked up by a support van. I wanted to ride into the city and experience the feeling of finishing...

Maura and her sister Carolgene were biking ahead of us -- Carolgene had been training since January and she was in prime physical condition and wanted to push herself to see how well she could do -- and luckily, my other friend Abby had her friend to ride with too so I didn't need to worry about slowing anyone else down -- well, because I had Laurie. And Laurie, could have rocked this course and probably placed first, but she chose not to.


I was able to ride behind Laurie for most of the ride. That means, that Laurie took the brunt of the wind, and I was able to draft off of her making the workload on that hip of mine much less. It did, however, make itself known the entire trip and I would have to stop every 8 miles or so and jump off my bike and stretch by the side of the road...


I was praying to reach every rest stop so that I could get off, relieve the pressure on my hip, stretch out -- oh yeah, and sing patriotic songs to the volunteers at all the stops. That was a HUGE highlight! We could keep track of each other because the volunteers would report which songs our friends had sung and tell us how far ahead they were.

Anyway, I made it to Philly, thanks to Laurie. Did I mention how much I love her? We arrived at the base of the Ben Franklin bridge and had to carry our bikes up this flight of stairs...


Then it was time to bike across the bridge into Philadelphia...


-- and from here on out it was Glorious!! Imagine our delight, when we rounded the fountain at the traffic circle

And saw this!


We arrived at the Philly Museum steps, racked our bikes and headed to the changing tent. I was so relieved we made it in time. We were required to start the run by 4:45 and we had made it by about 4:20 or so...

Laurie was changed in 15 seconds and out of the tent to start her run. I was popping 800 mg of Ibuprofen and hoping for the best.

I emerged from the tent prepared to run but every time my left heel hit the ground, I had a shooting pain in my hip -- I didn't think that was good so I had to walk. Well, at least I could walk, right?

Except nobody else was walking...I had taken my camera and caught sight of all the Liberty Ladies out on the run course. It was a beautiful trail that went alongside the river and back. I took pictures of all the Ladies and was very proud for their efforts.


Then I was alone. For miles 2 through 4, I didn't see anyone I knew. My hip was hurting and I was sad that I was wounded and, I'm ashamed to admit, I started to cry. I was tired from the ride, I was worried about my hip and I was disappointed that I couldn't run with all the Ladies...and the tears came and I couldn't stop them. All the sudden, a man rounded the bend and was running toward me and I panicked because I didn't want him to see my crying. What a sight! A crying Lady Liberty.

Then, I started to giggle. Now, he would see an uncontrollably giggling, crying Lady Liberty and that made me laugh even harder...

Snap out of it, Susan! I thought to myself... I'm a Liberty Lady through and through and I can't let a self-pity party bring all the Ladies down. I have to represent. If I was going out...I'd go out with pride. Even if I am going to be the last one.

And then I realized how it must feel to those who do races and come in last...it's not easy. In fact, I think it takes more courage to do a race knowing you may not make it or you might come in last than it does to do a race hoping you will do it better than last time...

And, as I was thinking about all of that, I saw this wonderful thistle plant by the side of the path and started to think about the symmetry of the bud and how I might stitch it....


And then I met another angel named Rich who was also walking and he kept me company for the next two miles until my Liberty friends ran out to get me and bring me home. Aren't they wonderful?


Rich and I ran for 50 feet just to cross the finish line and look good for the pictures! (we all know it's all about the pictures...)


And, here we are the Liberty Ladies at the Finish Line --


and one of the volunteers yells..."We love our Liberty Ladies!" and another one yells back..."Hey, they're in Philly now...shouldn't they be Liberty Belles?"

And we laughed. Hey, we're willing to be whatever our fan base needs us to be...

We couldn't leave without running up the steps...


Celebrating at the top...a la Rocky


and posing with the man who made the Museum steps famous...


And I took away two big thoughts for the day...

The first -- it may sound hokey, but it's true...

Anything is possible when you have good friends.

And when they happen to be channeling the energy and spirit of our Lady Liberty...then the sky's the limit.

And second --

It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.

A positive approach, big smiles, spreading good cheer and tattoos and stickers, singing to the volunteers, savoring the moments, being thankful for the opportunity and sticking by your friends -- that's what makes the world go 'round.

Just as we were coming back down the steps, and collecting our bikes to leave for the day, the last participant crossed the finished line.

It was Proud Mary from Seattle, number 111. Laurie turned to me and said, "Hey, look Susan, it's Mary!" and we all screamed for Mary and her accomplishment -- But Proud Mary was smiling...even though she was last...

As we drove back down the Turnpike to go home, weary and happy -- we stopped to change our sweaty, smelly clothes at a rest station.

And as we left to drive the rest of the way home, the Ladies were still wearing their crowns.


Liberty Ladies 'til the end...

[You can view the entire set of pictures here on my Flickr album...

[And for those who asked...

Why Was the Swim Canceled? Originally, they had us swimming out of Battery Park -- Two weeks before the race, they notified us that the swim had been moved down to Hoboken Beach...Well, to be honest, you can't even see the Statue of Liberty from Hoboken Beach...And, the race takes you with the river current for half the swim and then returning against the current. If you can't time the swim to be during a slack tide then, no matter how good a swimmer you are, swimming AGAINST the current in the Hudson River is next to impossible. My guess is that they realized after changing the venue that they were not going to be able to have a swim start at a slack tide...They had a very small window to work within since the bike start was set in stone and they were working through 23 New Jersey municipalities to get officers to support the ride at intersections etc. So, the bike ride HAD to start on time...

So, their choice was probably to start the swim, and then end up pulling more than 80% of people out of the water and onto boats because the current was going to be too strong (this would be very expensive because they would have to pay the Coast Guard and other official boats to pull us out) or cancel it. Also, to hold a swim, they have to close the shipping channel for the duration of the swim, have the Coast Guard on hand not to mention all of the kayakers and other personnel they have in the water to make sure they don't lose anyone...An open water swim is an expensive proposition, so in New York, you can see how there might end up being one hundred reasons why they wouldn't have it...like, it could have been related to catching that group of terrorists that were trying to start a jihad by bombing various New York mosques...

They never really gave us the straight story which led me to believe that it either had to do with money or something they weren't at liberty to share...]

And, if you're still here at the end of all this, thanks for reading our story...

The Liberty Ladies (Part One)

(Warning** : This is Part One of a two-part picture-laden story of five strong and courageous Liberty Ladies who participated in the Liberty to Liberty Triathlon, taking ourselves from the Statue of Liberty in New York City to the Liberty Bell/Museum of Art in Philadelphia.)

They canceled the swim.

I was disappointed. Believe it or not, I had wanted to swim in the Hudson River -- dead bodies, flotsam, jetsam, et al. With my injured hip, I was thinking the swim might be my one shot at glory for the day. Not to mention, I had planned to shove a disposable, underwater camera into my wetsuit and get an "in agua" picture of all of the lady swimming beauties in front of the Big Lady herself...

via Streetr's Flickr

but, alas, swimming was not meant to be...

We honored Lady Liberty, each in our own way, garnering all of her energy, beauty and support....she, the Mother of Liberty -- we, the mothers of 15 children all-together.

Great friends, all of us...and, two of us, sisters racing together...


The night before the race, we went to Manhattan to soak up the energy of Times Square and eat a pre-race Italian meal.


Even the Empire State Building had her colors lit in honor of our race *wink...


We awoke the next morning to a beautiful day and we were rip-roaring, raring-to-go on our 90-mile bike ride through the horse country of New Jersey into Philadelphia.


(And yes, that's the Hudson River we were supposed to have swum in...)

Mind you, we had serious strategies and preparations for this race. Not only did we have to get our bikes up to New Jersey and our car down to Philadelphia, but we had to have properly-attired bikes and decorum as well.

We are, after all, Liberty Ladies in every sense of the word.

Maura radio-ed to the team that she had the crowns...


Our friends had sent us off with fierce tattoos, warrior rhinestones, and flag stickers,


and we brought lots of supplies for decorating ourselves, our bikes and anyone else we could get our hands on...


Including our bus driver, Regina. I am forever grateful to Regina, our newly-coronated Liberty Bus Queen, for blessing us on our safe ride and, most importantly, for blessing my hindered hip.


Before long, we were all Beauty-fied,


Our water bottles were full, sunscreen was on, and we were ready at the START...

Willing, of course, to take time out of our pre-race meditation routines for a photo-op -- always, always remembering that we are Liberty Ladies...And, our fans need us, no matter what the cost to ourselves.

We were all lined up to start individually -- 15 seconds apart from one another.

I knew it was a good omen for me when the woman in front of me was Number 111. And she became my new friend, Mary from Seattle. Yes, that's right, I couldn't help myself, Tina Turner channeled through me...Big wheels keep on Turnin', Proud Mary keep on Burnin', Rollin' Rollin' Rollin' down to Philly....


Ooops... I digress...again...I'm surprised I have any readers at all...

OK, so we're finally all lined up at the start and ready to go....


But, now I think I've overloaded your capacity for photos for one day...

Tune in tomorrow to see the unbelievable transformation of the Liberty Ladies...soon to be produced as a made-for-TV movie...

Liberty to Liberty

This weekend I'm participating in the Liberty to Liberty Triathlon with a group of wonderfully crazy girlfriends. The event takes us from the Statue of Liberty in New York down to the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia -- ending at the Rocky Statue at the Phila. Museum of Art.


I have had some trouble with a hip injury this Spring but feel well enough to race. But, I can use all your positive thoughts -- this old gray mare she ain't what she used to be...

I've figured out a way to take my camera on the bike so, irregardless of how I do, I should have a pics to share when I get back. And that's really what matters...

Wish me luck!

Mary Cassatt

On this day in 1844, Mary Cassatt was born in Pennsylvania to a wealthy family and later moved from Philadelphia to study painting from the masters in Paris.


She was one of only a handful of women accepted by and exhibiting with the Impressionists of her day. Her work was very much influenced by one of her teachers, Edgar Degas, yet she retained her own style -- focusing on everyday scenes.



Cassatt painted numerous needlewomen and is particularly noted for her heart-warming portraits of mother and child. But, it is her portraits of needlewomen, to which I am drawn the most.


If artwork of needlewomen is something you'd like to explore, then you must not miss this book -- In Praise of the Needlewoman: Embroiderers, Knitters, Lacemakers and Weavers in Art by Gail Carolyn Sirna.

It's absolutely wonderful with many, many color plates of artwork whose subject matter are all women and the needlearts! The pictures in this post are just a few of Ms. Cassatt's works that are included in this beautiful book along with many other distinguished artists such as Renoir, Monet, Caillebotte, and another female favorite and contemporary friend to Mary Cassatt, Berthe Morisot...

Interestingly enough, my favorite needlewoman portrait painted by Ms Cassatt is not included in this book. It is this one...
Woman in Black and Green Bonnet, Sewing ca. 1880 Oil on canvas, from a private collection...which I was lucky to see in person last Summer at the Women Impressionists' exhibit at the Legion of Honor museum in San Francisco.


I love that there is no background to distract us from the sewer...she is completely absorbed in her work as we are in her. I was surprised at how bold and large the brushstrokes were -- but the overall effect is mesmerizing to me.

And, here is Miss Cassatt herself painted by none other than Edgar Degas...Portrait of Miss Cassatt, seated, holding cards ca. 1876 -88, oil on canvas.


Happy Birthday.

My Inspiration

Can a single piece of needlework change your life? Or set you on a different path?

Today, I pay homage to a piece of needlework and to a woman who altered my needlework path forever.

When I began Crazy Quilting around the year 2000 or so, the biggest inspiration on the scene for me at that time was Judith Baker Montano. I loved all her books, couldn't get enough of them...but it was this book...Floral Stitches...which spoke to my soul.

I kept it by my bed. I studied all of the components she used in her work. I loved the way she "saved" glorious old vintage bits of wonderful textiles and transformed them into new art -- to be preserved and enjoyed anew. It was the most beautiful way I had seen of giving new life to someone else's handiwork -- and it gripped me and has never let me go.

I've never taken a class with Ms. Montano nor have I ever met her in person. I have, however, written to her, spoken to her over the phone and purchased this piece of her needlework "Study in Pastels" ...


When I left that corporate job that I told you about last post, I had made a little money. After discussing it with my husband, we decided to purchase our first piece of textile art. It's not very common or popular to purchase textile art -- and I think Ms. Montano was a bit astonished and, yes, even overjoyed that someone actually wanted to pay her money for her art. I worried over the decision... it seemed so frivolous...but my need for retail therapy was high and when my husband knew how much it meant to me, he encouraged me to write the check.

I have not regretted it one day.


To me, it wasn't just any piece of art. It was the piece that was showcased in photos all throughout her Floral Stitches book. It was the piece that had been changing my life as I embraced the art of crazy quilting.

And it's a piece that means as much to me as any Picasso, or Rembrandt or yes, even, Mary Cassat.


I am honored to have it in my home and count it among our family treasure.

Here is what Judith says about the piece in her own words:


No other piece, or person or book has inspired me as much. Except for this one...which I've written about in a previous post.

So, how about you?

Can a single piece of needlework change your life? Or set you on a different path?


And Judith, should you happen upon this post, and be delighted to "meet" your old piece again...know that it is loved and treasured and continues to sing to my soul...and now, just maybe, to the souls of others.

My hat is off, my head is bowed, in deep gratitude...thank you.

March BJP Complete

"Flight Delay"


This August it will be 7 years (!) since I stopped working as an executive at a large senior housing company and returned home to my nest. Jack was in first grade and I know it's cliche to say, but I can't believe how time has flown...

At the time, there were two main reasons driving my decision... the first, they were eliminating my job as I had known it and, the second, and most important at the time, I wanted to have another child. For two years prior, I had been in a fertility program trying to have another child. The heavy doses of hormones I was receiving plus the monthly emotional rollercoaster of hope and despair wasn't helping my mental state. So, I bailed. I needed a break. With both Jim and me working full-time, my frequent traveling and Jack being a young child -- I was not living the stress-free-lifestyle that was conducive to baby-making-love-making, if you know what I mean...


I had "unexplained fertility" and was a "poor responder" to treatment which led everyone taking care of me to say it was all related to stress. I just needed to "relax" and it would all happen. I was seeking treatment from anyone who I thought could help me...alternative practitioners, acupuncturists, massage therapists, and medical doctors -- They were all trying to help me relax and conceive -- But the reality was that I just needed to step down off that crazy treadmill which I had worked so hard to get to...and give myself a break.


If I really wanted to be honest with myself, I needed to make a paradigm shift in my life...

And so, 7 years later and no second baby to show for it, I'm still here in the nest taking care of the one child I am blessed to have. I miss my old job and the work I used to do. I had always loved my job, loved the company I worked for, and loved all the people I worked with...But as I've gotten further away -- I feel blessed to have had the experience and have begun to wonder if I will ever have another work experience to match that again? I begin to worry that I am becoming a little stuck here in my nest...


I won't go into all the benefits that both Jack, Jim and my family have experienced by my being here in my nest. Suffice it to say that our nest is stronger than ever and able to withstand many storms -- we're fortified now with love, and constancy, and routine. I absolutely see my "worth" here at home with Jack, especially now that he's going through that horribly-insecure time of adolescence when everything else is changing for him...it's nice that home is pretty constant. In fact, I think it's more important now for me to be here than when he was smaller. God (and the economy!) willing, I can see the benefit of staying at home until Jack goes to college.


And yes, I understand that this time is fleeting by and will be gone before I know it. In March, the cherry blossoms were blooming here in Baltimore which led me to think about the transience of life and how quickly time passes. How Jack will be grown and gone before I know it. And how, in this life, it is not what job I am doing at any one point in time, but that I've tried to live each moment as best I can...


But then, my anxieties creep in...If I'm really honest with myself, Jack won't be the only one leaving the nest in five years...I'll be leaving it too...moving onto my next "career" because I DO want to return to work. But maybe I can't wait five years? What if Jim loses his job, it would be better to have a back-up plan already underway... But then, I settle myself and have faith that I must be in the right place because it feels that way... it feels "right". And I can't help feeling rooted in this nest, surrounded by the people, the hobbies and the home that I love...

Will I be able to fly again when the time is right? Boy, I can really appreciate the fear that others experience associated with this new flight -- and I have never attributed those fears to myself before. But, they are there.

I'm not sure anymore where I should be flying and what I should be doing. I have been trying to live in the moment but remain unclear as to where all those moments are leading me?

Will I know when it's time to fly? Will I remember how?


For now, I just know that my flight is delayed.

Until further notice.