Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Insanely expensive waterbottle; but worth it
I just bought an insanely expensive waterbottle -- so it better not turn out in 3 years that these things cause cancer, or blood-clots, or skin irritations or something horrid like that.
It's by SIGG -- and it's Swiss. I picked it up @ EMS -- so I got a student discount. Just sjow 'em your college ID and you get a discount. Cool, huh?
SIGG -- it's not plastic.
http://www.mysigg.com/
Providence is considering banning plastic disposable water bottles -- which I think is a very good idea. I'm refreshing myself with some filtered tap water in my (probably toxic) Brown University Nalgene bottle as I type... so there you go.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Summer class
I've arrived in Providence to take a summer course at Brown. Originally I was registered for 2 -- but the morning class was cancelled, which is too bad, because it was an exciting concept.
The canceled class was an exploration of using sound as a component of art installations. But only 4 people signed up, so it was called off.
The class that is being held is Studio Foundation, which is a pre-req for almost every other art course at Brown or RISD -- and is usually very difficult to get into. In he fall students have to enter a lottery to vie for a spot -- usually 100 or so students seeking one of the 24 spots -- so taking the course in the summer has the added bonus of not having to draw lots.
The first class met yesterday. We were sent down the hill in a thunderstorm to purchase paper and charcoal from the RISD store, and then returned and worked on studies of form. Trees from memory, followed by trees in the courtyard, followed by outlining the edges of random objects.
I realized I haven't worked in charcoal since maybe 1978 (?) -- so when I was asked if I was using an old technique -- I honestly did not know. It was a long time ago that I studied art as a serious practitioner. My last art class would have been my senior year in high school. Actually, taking this class reminded me that I had been an art major in high school -- which is something that I had not remembered until yesterday.
I have a headache today -- I think from breathing the charcoal dust. This class will be an interesting experiment.
The canceled class was an exploration of using sound as a component of art installations. But only 4 people signed up, so it was called off.
The class that is being held is Studio Foundation, which is a pre-req for almost every other art course at Brown or RISD -- and is usually very difficult to get into. In he fall students have to enter a lottery to vie for a spot -- usually 100 or so students seeking one of the 24 spots -- so taking the course in the summer has the added bonus of not having to draw lots.
The first class met yesterday. We were sent down the hill in a thunderstorm to purchase paper and charcoal from the RISD store, and then returned and worked on studies of form. Trees from memory, followed by trees in the courtyard, followed by outlining the edges of random objects.
I realized I haven't worked in charcoal since maybe 1978 (?) -- so when I was asked if I was using an old technique -- I honestly did not know. It was a long time ago that I studied art as a serious practitioner. My last art class would have been my senior year in high school. Actually, taking this class reminded me that I had been an art major in high school -- which is something that I had not remembered until yesterday.
I have a headache today -- I think from breathing the charcoal dust. This class will be an interesting experiment.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Seed Sound

by Kato McNickle
In the window of CitySports on Thayer Street in Providence hangs a black baseball cap with the words “Life Is Good” stitched on its brim and the symbol for ‘OM’ emblazoned across its peak. The concept OM has been appropriated by the West as new-age kitsch with its recitation used as shorthand for pseudo-enlightenment in sitcoms and cartoons. While OM has a presence in Western culture as a pop icon, its ancient origins and its relevance within current world culture beyond its pop-status are profound. It not only represents the essence of primordial beginnings, its utterance is an enactment of that beginning. It is a sound that contains the universe. What is the origin of OM and how has the use and meaning of this sound developed over millennia?
The power of sound, and its connection to OM as its root, is concisely explained by co-authors Harold Coward and David Goa in their brief treatise Mantra, Hearing the Divine in India:
Sound intrinsically bears the power of the sacred in India. In Hindu hierarchy of scripture it is Sruti, the heard text, which is preserved in oral tradition, is the highest manifestation of the creative word. OM is the supreme example, since it is the Divine seed from which all other sounds are said to arise. OM is, therefore, taken as the root mantra or sacred sound for the whole universe.
OM is regarded as the primordial seed sound and while the word itself is not written or used in the very earliest Vedic hymns, there are allusions to its use as in The Creation of Sacrifice:
The ritual repetitions harmonized with the chants / and the meters; the seven divine sages harmonized with the original models (RV: 10.130).
Georg Feuerstein in his book The Deeper Dimension of Yoga explains that the possible reason for OM’s omission from the transcribed hymns was due to the secret aspect of this sacred syllable:
OM was considered so sacred that it could not be mentioned outside the actual context of the Vedic sacrifices. In that case, it would have been passed on from teacher to student by word of mouth in strictest confidence. There would therefore have been no need to mention OM in the sacred hymns. All initiates would have known it and also understood its sublime meaning. In any case, for countless generations, any recitation of the Vedic hymns has begun with the syllable OM.
With this system in mind, the following phrase from Book I of the Rig Veda takes on a significance reinforcing the notion of the secret, sacred syllable OM:
Upon what syllable of holy praise-song, as / ‘twere there highest heaven, the Gods / repose them – / Who knows not this, what will he do with / praise-song? But they who know it / will sit here assembled. (RV: 1.164)
To know OM and to enact it by speaking it is to be part of this circle.
In the introduction to his English translation of the Upanisads, Patrick Olivelle describes the works as an expansion of the rituals and practices presented in the early Vedic hymns. In the Upanisads the syllable OM does appear, as in this verse from the Katha Upanisad:
The word that all the Vedas disclose; / The word that all austerities proclaim; / Seeking which people live student lives; / That word now I will tell you in brief— / It is OM! (KU: 2.15)
This reference illustrates a lesson from teacher to student, except that in this scenario the teacher is Death sharing the lesson of OM with his pupil Naciketas. The later Mundaka Upanisad describes the use of OM to the student:
The bow is OM, the arrow’s the self, / the target is Brahman, they say. (MU: 2.2.4)
This simple metaphor encapsulates the changing presence of OM in these ancient traditions. Its use is still sacred, as a tool of enlightenment, but the regard for the word is one that denotes action. OM is no longer so secret that it cannot be written or shared. Indeed, by the time of the composition of the Mandukya Upanisad the sacred syllable is being dissected and scrutinized as thoroughly as the banyan seed is cut apart to reveal its essence (CU: 6.12) :
OM—this whole world is that syllable! Here is a further explanation for it. The past, the present, and the future—all that is simply OM; and whatever else that is beyond the three times, that also is simply OM—for this Brahman is the Whole. (MU: 1.1-2)
Like the aforementioned banyan seed, the seed syllable OM is split apart to reveal its essence:
With respect to syllables, OM is very self (atman); whereas with respect to the constituent phoneme of a syllable, it is as follows. The constituent phonemes are the quarters, and the quarters are the constituent phonemes, namely ‘a’, ‘u’, and ‘m’. The first constituent phoneme—‘a’—is Vaisvanara situated in the waking state, […] The second constituent phoneme—‘u’—is Taijasa in the state of dream, […] The third constituent phoneme—‘m’—is Prajna situated in the state of deep sleep, […] The fourth, on the other hand, without constituent phonemes; beyond the reach of ordinary transaction; the cessation of the visible world; auspicious; and unique. Accordingly, the very self (atman) is OM. Anyone who knows this enters the self (atman) by himself (atman). (MU: 1.8-12)
With each component of the OM sound flayed open, the experience of either hearing or speaking the sound is slowed; each moment of its utterance holds potential revelation. Additionally, this notion of splaying the components of the syllable for inspection, like the banyan seed, emphasizes the association of OM as the primordial seed. Reciting it leads to re-cultivation of its essence.
Accordingly, when Krishna states the following to Arjuna in the tenth teaching of the Baghavada-Gita, “I am the vowel a of the syllabary, / the pairing of words in a compound; / I am indestructible time, / the creator facing everywhere at once,” (BG: 10.32) he is likely referring to the waking state of constituent phonemes of OM. Unlike the previous instances of the use of OM, however, the Baghavada-Gita, is not a sacred practice like the recitation of the Vedic hymns; it is instead part of an epic story. Although the Baghavada-Gita is not in and of itself a sacred text, it does serve to convey spiritual lessons, as when Krishna attempts to give scope to his own essence:
I am the taste in the water, Arjuna, / the light in the moon and sun, / OM resonant in all sacred lore, / the sound in space, valor in men. (BG 7.7)
By the time OM is included in the Baghavada-Gita it is a sound that is known and heard beyond the priestly castes and temples; it has entered the public consciousness.
In Mantra, Hearing the Divine in India Coward and Goa present the connection between ritual action and the speaking of mantras such as OM:
Hindu thought sees a direct relationship between ritual actions and mantra. Indeed, it has been suggested that in India language is not something with which you name something; it is something with which you do something. Each spoken mantra corresponds to one ritual act. In post-Vedic India activities such as bringing the goddess Kali into a stone image, bathing to wash away sins, sowing seeds in the fields, guarding the sown seeds, driving away evil spirits, and meditating to achieve release, all had to be accompanied by the chanting of mantras in order to achieve success. In some situations the ritual act itself was later modified or even abandoned, yet the action of mantra recitation was retained. Within the ritual action, it is the uttered mantra that has central importance for release.
The pervasiveness of sacred sound in Hindu tradition is explored further by George Ruckert in Music in North India, where he describes the origins of the aural traditions of India springing from the Vedas and the importance of hearing sacred sounds:
The oldest scriptures in India are known as the Vedas, a word that literally means “knowledge.” Dating perhaps from 1500 BCE, they are four in number (Rig, Sama, Yajar, and Atharva Vedas,) and are comprised of sacred hymns, poetic descriptions of the gods and nature, rituals, and blessings. Originally they were passed on orally, memorized by an initiated class of priests (Brahmins), and the very act of hearing them was considered auspicious; understanding their profound philosophical implications was not immediately foremost. This feeling of sacredness in simply hearing has become basic to the Indian musical idea.
So, if you took the notion of sound in India and divided until you got to its essence, you would get to OM.
In Sacred Space, Sacred Sound, Susan Elizabeth Hale describes the “sonic formulas” of mantra that were bestowed on a student from their guru occasionally in a ceremony that included the writing of the sentiments “on the tongue with a basil wand to ensure that all the words coming from the mouth [would be] as sweet.” This action is one way for an initiate to receive their mantra, but the initiate does not choose their own, it is given to them, as Coward and Goa describe:
Mantras are not coined or spontaneously created. They are words, verses, or symbolic sounds that are transmitted and organized by a tradition. Even natural sounds become mantras only when they are taken and given structure and context. They are not left at the disposal of the people to use them as they wish. In Indian culture, for example, one does not chose one’s own mantra but receives it from a guru, who in turn received it from his teacher, and so on backwards in an infinite regress since, for the Indian, the universe is beginningless. The mantra one receives from the guru is that particular word which draws ones consciousness directly into harmony with the universe, with the Eternal.
In this way the mantra is an enacted direct connection to the past.
In his introduction to his book Sonic Theology, Guy Beck describes sound as the unifier within Indic culture throughout the ages:
From the Vedic and Upanisadic period up to the present certain issues, structures, and nomenclature persist which allow us to assemble a firm case for sacred sound as a common thread in Hinduism. These include the following: speculation on a primal vocal syllable such as OM or AUM; sonic cosmogonies […]; the importance given to mantra utterance and vocal repetition (japa) of divinely bestowed names, syllables, and phrases […}.
It is the persistence of mantra, and the continued prevalence of OM, that is notable here. In the book Breath Sweeps Mind, a First Guide to Meditation Practice editor Jean Smith includes this introduction to using mantras:
The Sanskrit word mantra combines the root man (“to think”) with the suffix tra (“instrument” or” tool”). Therefore, mantra means literally “tool for thinking.” […] [T]he repetition of sacred phrases has been used as an aid for meditation—to purify and focus the mind, to offer devotion or thanks, or to protect and nurture the spiritual activity of a particular person or place. Some authors differentiate between bijas, or “seed syllable” (pure sounds such as OM); mixed mantras, which combine bijas with words that have translatable meanings; and dharanis (phrases that are similar in function to mantras but can be translated word for word).
This book is for the Western practitioner beginning a meditation practice. Concentrating on these sacred sounds, chanting them, and hearing them has grown into the web of Western culture.
OM—once a syllable so sacred that it was not written, but shared exclusively father to son or guru to student as secret wisdom among a priestly caste—now adorns a hat hanging in a shop window on Thayer. In the time between the ancient secret and the hat on Thayer, the concept of the word morphed as it was explored, changing hands from sacred texts, to epic stories, to pop-mantras. OM is now part of a trans-world consciousness, whether it functions in its original guise as an initiator of Vedic sacrifice, or as a chant used to inspire meditation for health purposes, or as an adornment for a hat. In a way, its proliferation in all of these forms serves to support the original concept and purpose of OM. It is a sound so deeply rooted in the universe and in the human psyche that we find ourselves exploring it, embellishing it, and continuing to repeat its sound. OM continues to manifest over and over again, a seed spread and reborn and remembered.






