A writer's work...............

A writer's work is harder than you might imagine. It isn't about sitting down and writing what comes into your head. Oh no. It's about ideas and creativity and then structure, structure, structure. Then it's about editing: self-editing and then editing by A. N. Other.

Lizzie knew a theatre person (back in the mists of time) who would start out with the text of a play or some dramatic ideas, then begin to take things out as opposed to adding things in. This process of taking out meant that what was left carried more freight of meaning for the reader because there was 'space' around the signifiers. If everything is spelled out, then there is no room for the piece to breathe through it's floating signifiers and no room for some creative search for meaning

I realise this is all sounding somewhat post-modern. (Should it have the hyphen these days?) Most of the population prefer classical realist texts that will reassure them that life is knowable and predictable. Most TV is like this. However, I'm afraid this view of life is an illusion. We are in an unknowable and unpredictable universe and our sense of reality is false. 

Hmmm. How did I get from "A writer's work" to our sense of reality being false? Exciting stuff, eh!

Mouton Potato: I don't think so!

Yesterday I was really excited about the photo shoot on the terrace for my 'look & feel' in the book. Today, things have taken a serious turn for the worse as Lizzie has been trying to recreate a version of me from a potato. Yes - you haven't been seeing things. A potato, no less!

 

I don't know about you, but this isn't exactly the 'look & feel' that I had in mind. Not only did she make this ...... what I can only describe as a .....'thing'.......... but she actually thought it worth a discussion with some visitors, over tea. 

As if that were not bad enough, these visitors referred to me - real me - relaxing on the lawn, as a "plastic sheep". Plastic! I'm too depressed to write any more............................ 

I'm writing a book

I'm writing a book!! Well not me on my own. It's being done in collaboration with Lizzie and Keith, my two house mates and fellow creative types. How exciting is that? We are just in the early stages of getting a feel for what it might look like and what the theme(s) might be. I feel very professional already and am really looking forward to it all.

The three of us will be working on it together (not all at the same time, you understand), so I will keep you informed of progress, both in the literary department, as well as in the 'process' arena - or how well we get on together as a creative team. Hmmm!

Other than this piece of exciting news, life is pretty much the same as one might expect for a sheep in France in the summer: lots of grazing outside and lots of brilliant thinking.

Waving at Schroedinger's Cat

There was this cat. It was in a box. There was this radioactive atom. It was in the box as well. I know it's Sunday and I'm only a mere mouton, but the obvious things to put in with the cat would be some food and water. However, this is science and science is weird.

Now then.......... The fate of this poor cat is dependent upon something called a 'wave function' and an 'observer'. Oh, I forgot to mention the hammer and a flask of cyanide, which is also in with the cat. Well I did say science was weird!

So, while this atom is waiting for the observer to wave at it, both the atom and cat are said to be in a 'superposition'. What might that be then, I hear you ask. Good question. A super position for the cat would be lying down and having a kip, no doubt. But no...The superposition for this cat is next to a geiger-counter. (Stay with me.)

Anyway, it seems that if this atom (Don't forget it's radioactive.) hangs about too long, it decays. (Well don't we all!) Also, if the hammer hits the flask of prussic acid, the cat will die. (But the cat will die if it is left in the box, anyway, so why all this additional paraphernalia!) Oh, I forgot. It's science.

It seems that an important part of this experiment is the wave function of the atom. (Sorry if I misled you about it being the observer waving............) Hence, according to Shroedinger, the atom remains in a 'superposition' of decay and undecay, up until the time the observer opens the box. (The lack of a space in the word 'superposition' as opposed to 'super' and 'position' is clearly crucial, here.) Because this possible dual state of potential pertains to the atom, Shroedinger claims the same can be said for the cat: it is in a 'superposition' of being both dead and alive.

So, the question is: Should the observer open the box? No need. It isn't a real experiment. It's just a Thought Experiment.

However, if you want to know more about atoms, particles, waves and observers, go to this fantastic animation and be truly amazed.

The Never Realised Question

Well hello to Mr Occasional Stirrings. How nice of you to drop in and chat.

I haven't been eating any of those magic mushrooms, (Thank you for asking.) but I can quite understand your reasoning in relation to my recent posts. As a matter of fact, it had crossed my ovine mind that I might be turning into you, now that I stir only occasionally.

I'm not sure what's going on with me, lately. The good lady of the house is busying about and is full of enthusiasm for her latest art projects which she seems to be squeezing in on top of everything else. Me, on the other hand.....................

You are very kind to draw my attention to Half Remarkable Questions. Lordy, Mr O-S. If I'm lost for words, I'll bet they weren't lost for mushrooms!

Boswell: from Gosling, to Goose, to Celebrity

Regulars who have been with me for a while will remember that, back in May 2007, I first met, and introduced to my readers, Boswell, when he was a mere cute gosling. In the months following, several poems were written to, and for him, by my good self. The Goose Engine (repeated below) was the first, and took its title from the work that Mark, Boswell's owner and IBM programmer, had been doing on a site for the music of Philip Glass, called The Glass Engine.

However, after a short time, Boswell became ill with a rare form of cancer and had to go into hospital for an operation. I kept in touch with Mark and wrote Boswell a poem of encouragement followed by a welcome home poem for after his operation. (I must admit to penning one in case things didn't turn out well but, thankfully, haven't had to use it.)

Then in November of 2007, I received a photo, from Mark, of Boswell all grown up and penned another update, followed by more news about Boswell's sister, Woglinde. Finally, in August 2008, Boswell began his own blog, over a year since I had spoken about him being a budding blogger in The Goose Engine

Now, Boswell has become quite a celebrity in his own right. He has been featured on TV, with Mark of course, so I will be posting this video tomorrow.

I hope you will forgive a swelling of pride in this old Mouton's breast, when I remind you that I had predicted, back in May 2007, that Boswell would be a very fine blogger. I have taken the liberty of reprinting it below:

The Goose Engine

Boswell is from IBM

(leaning to the left)
Trying hard his height to gain
but isn't very deft.

Wants to be a blogger
when he's tall and straight
Fears he will discover
he's developed late.

Listens now to Philip Glass
in wood and leafy glade
(But is he just inertial mass
sitting in the shade?)

The IB-MUS guys think he's cool
and never fly-by-night
He's not just anybody's fool
despite his challenged height.

So don't go goofing off outside
with old Canadian geese
Let cool programmers be your guide
where music's the set piece.

Keep growing tall and filling out
so you can blog with ease
And be the smartest goose, no doubt,
to have web expertise.

I'm Theoremed Out

I'm theoremed out
There is no doubt
I'm x-d and y-d and z-d
For Wiles he is the real deal man
For taking Fermat's seed

It grew and grew
before he knew
And years had flown away
But elegance was what he sought
to prove it, in his way

The first attempt
was a preempt
for what was sure to come
He thrilled the world and humbly knew
he'd conquered that old sum

Fermat's Last Theorem

I like the video so much that I have kept it but put it in my sidebar under 'Other things I like'

Fermat on his Plinth and the rest.........

Watch this video, if you haven't already, and feel good about life. (The good lady of the house recommends watching it again even if you have seen it before.)

This is some plinth........

Man on a Plinth

The good lady of the house is back (after what seems to be an interminable silence) from the dark side of the Tarn and Garonne.

To celebrate this fact she has sent me this picture of a man on a plinth. He must be important because, as I am practicing talking, I would suppose that he is worth talking about. I know that one of my followers will know who he is, but he's been asked not to say, so I was wondering if the rest of you had any idea?

He looks quite scholarly and, judging by the hair, clothes and chair, must be from the 17th century, or thereabouts. (I notice with some little jealousy that the sky appears to have been very blue and sunny when this photo was taken. Not so in my neck of the woods!)

Chronophage Conspiracy: An Ovine Exploration

Those of you who have been following my pennings will remember that two of my recent posts included the Chrononphage, or Corpus Clock. The first discussed the clock itself, and the second (a poem) linked it with the credit crunch.

Now here's the thing. There may be more to this 'ere clock than meets the Eye of Horus, as they say. Just as the Eye of Horus is more than just an eye, it seems that this Chronophage Clock might have more than one story to tell. I can't say too much at the moment, because I don't know that much. What I do know, is that there is a dedicated team looking into it.

So how has it come to pass, I hear you ask, that a sheep living in France, would know anything about the Corpus Clock Conspiracy; for conspiracy it is deemed to be. How, indeed. Well, I was contacted! And No, I wasn't beamed-up into an alien spaceship. This is France and aliens can't be doing with all that bureaucracy.

I was contacted directly by the team itself, because my poem, linking the credit crunch and the chronophage, strays somewhat into the conspiracy team's area of interest. They note that the unveiling of the clock, the banning of 'short selling' in the US, and the problems with the CERN Hadron Collider were oddly concurrent. Also, they draw attention to the fact that the clock has "...strange occult symbolism in its design", mysterious "undisclosed" patents and a Latin inscription on it. (The latter, "Mundus transit et Concupiscentiaeius" must, I feel sure, be the Vitruvian Man (or Vitruvian Mouton) equivalent of the first clue to the supposed conspiracy.)

So, if you like the idea of conspiracy theories or just conspiracies, or theory, or clocks or time, or mysterious patents, (the Particle Zoo), or me: please visit Corpus Clock Conspiracy and ask yourself the following questions:

1) Do we have an extraordinarily beautiful clock which (in an ontological sense) is just that.
2) Are we looking at, like Lacus Curtius, an emerging mystery of epic proportions?
3) Should we prepare ourselves for the next big blockbuster: The Da Crunchy Code?

Retrofitting

I think I'm on a bit of a roll with my thinking and posts this week: creative juices and all that. In addition, I've come to realise that I don't always need the good lady of the house for my talking practice, either. So as I seem to be doing just fine on my own, I'll press on unhindered and unbowed, as they say.

I've selected from my 'Biological Imperatives' post, (in a kind of tag-system of subject selection) the idea of 'retrofitting'. From the many definitions that seem to be about cars and houses and plumbing and things like that, I've gone down the 'noun' route with " the act of adding a component or accessory to something that did not have it when it was manufactured."

This seems pretty straightforward. When Lisbeth mended my legs, for example, she gave me more hoof-like feet than I had had, originally. Hence, I have 'retrofitted' hooves.

If you look around Mr Google's sweety shop, you can find all kinds of interesting things to do with retrofitting. Try this on for size......... a jumper. (Ha ha...) Yes, I found a zip-up jumper (that YOU could actually knit, if you had a mind to), using the pattern entitled 'Retrofit'. It's on a site called Knitty "with purls of wisdom". (Nice touch, that.)

On this same site there is a 'featured promotion'. Although it doesn't say that this promoted site is concerned with retrofitting, I am very sure that it is. So before you go whizzing off to take a look, let me explain why I think this is the case. OK.......... Sheldon is a knitted turtle. (Stay with me on this!) Sheldon's creator likes to make accessories for him, in order to turn him into other animals or human creatures. (It's American) He doesn't actually turn into other creatures, you understand, because he is turtle-shaped (albeit a bit odd-looking) and his head (which is somewhat large) remains that of a turtle.

Now - and I'm sure you're ahead of me here - this is where we can apply the term 'retrofit'. He was created (or manufactured) a turtle. When accessories - like wings or hats or a woolly coat - are 'retrofitted', he takes on aspects of other animals or human creatures. E.G. sheep, bat, lion, policeman, cowboy etc.

If you can bear it, visit the 'featured promotion' to get the idea. Then, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have very great pleasure in presenting to you: 'Sheldon', the video...........

Biological Imperative

Biological Imperatives. Now there's a thought. So what are these imperatives? Clearly they're not something that you drink before a meal, because not all those are Organic. Of course, the good lady of the house is out (again) so I am left to my own research devices.

So what have I discovered? Well, these imperative thingies are to do with living. Things like 'survival' (Dhhh! Even a sheep of small (but burgeoning) brain can see that!) 'Territorialism', 'competition', 'reproduction' and 'quality of life-seeking'. Territorialism will be about me liking it on the veranda and my not liking other sheep to come and muscle in on my 'sheep-in-residence' position. Competition. I'm reasonably competitive, so that's OK. Reproduction. If only............ Least said soon is mended, as they say. Reminds me of Emo Phillips: "People come up to me" he said "and they're worried I'll reproduce."

So where was I? Oh yes............ Quality of life(hyphen)seeking. Now that's a bit more difficult. Does that mean that if you have, or do, all the other things in the list, then you have 'quality of life'? Or is it that you have to seek QofL as a thing, separate from the other things? "Today, I are mostly seeking the quality of life"? And how would I know if I'd got it? Lisbeth (just back) has thrown in that it sounds a bit like Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs. Women!

I did find an essay by someone called Babette Francis. She wrote a whole essay entitled "Is gender a social construct OR a biological imperative?" I'm not sure about constructing things in society. Unless it is big enough for Babette to have her feast in. That's a possibility, I suppose.

Then I found a site (with a really nice background of stars, while it loads) which asks: "Is intelligence a biological imperative?" Part 4!! That means that there have bean 3 parts already. What is it with this imperative?

A real blog on blogspot, entitled Scientific Integrity (One for you, Mr Occasional Stirrings.), challenges somebody's notion that "...human sensibility can be "retro-fitted" into the biological imperative." I don't think I like the idea of this retro-fit idea. Well, only if it involves wolves in 50s sheep's clothing. You know, just for fun at a party.

So there you have it: A cornucopia of imperatives that have been created wholly biologically; and that has to be good for the environment which, in turn, enhances my quality of life. Hyphen-free, of course!

Mr Chronophage

Whoaagh.............. Now this is something to write home about: a clock that eats time. It's this new clock in Cambridge which has a big grasshoppery thing tramping around the edge, apparently eating time. Lisbeth says that the word 'Cronophage' comes from Greek and actually means 'time eater' (chronos = time and phageo - eat, or phagein - to eat.)

It's a particularly weird sort of a clock because it isn't right most of the time. In fact, it only manages to be correct once every five minutes. (So you can't set you watch by it!) However, the maker says he has done it this way - with the pendulum slowing from time to time, and then speeding up - to show that time is subjective and appears to go either faster or slower, depending on what you're up to. In both cases, the maker believes that time is 'not on our side' and so wanted to show the chronophage relentlessly eating it up.

I know that when I'm on the veranda and feeling bored, time seems to go really slowly. Then when we have an interesting visitor, and they sit out here and talk with Lisbeth, time seems to fly by. I suppose, if I'm honest, I have no real sense of time at all. I'm not even aware of its passing. As to it being munched....................

Anyway, back to the clock. When the hour is reached, this crunching, munching clock doesn't even chime. It does have a mechanism, though, which does make a noise. It is a chain being dragged over a wooden coffin! Eewe!

So on that spooky note, I will leave you with the munching jaws of Mr Chronphage.

Saute mouton

Thank you, Mr Idle Writer, for pointing out that 'leapfrog', in French, is saute mouton.
Why would they go and call it 'Leap sheep'. Why isn't it saute grenouille?

While you give this curious fact your full consideration, please listen to ce Saute-Mouton-ci or watch ce Saute-Mouton-la (avec accent)

Chateau Brad Pitt

Continuing Lisbeth's visits for Patrimoine weekend, we have Chateau de Forge. This is a fairytale medieval chateau with turrets, an enclosed courtyard, a chapel and other buildings etc. (No photos, I'm afraid, as Madame forgot to take her camera!) There was a group of singers performing medieval music, and an opportunity to speak to an ebonist and a stone carver who use old fashioned techniques and tools in their work.

Both the stone carver and the ebonist, were French but worked in California. They explained that there is more money to be had over there and that people are more than happy to pay premium prices for hand-made craftsman pieces. The ebonist, for example, has been commissioned by one of his clients to make a copy of the map table in the Chateau de Versaille. This table is very beautiful with different veneers, marquetry, and has silver inlay.

Lisbeth went on to describe a photo that she saw in one of Mr Ebonist's display books. He was pictured standing on a ladder, sticking sheets of gold leaf onto a wall. When asked more about it, he said he was doing it for Brad Pitt: in his kitchen!!

L'Adoration des Mages sans cigarette

It was Patrimoine weekend in France this weekend, when all the chateaus and monuments open their doors for people to visit. There are spectacles and concerts and lots of things to see (most of which are free).

On Saturday afternoon, Lisbeth went to a lecture in one of the churches in her local town. It was to explain how this huge painting by Eugene Appert (1814-1867), that hangs in the church, was being restored, and to talk about the skills and techniques involved in the restoration of old paintings in general.

One of the things that Lisbeth told me about was the cigarette! Lisbeth has had this house for five years. For all of that time, the black Maggi on the left of the painting had seemed to have a half-smoked cigarette in his mouth. Lisbeth said it always looked so bizarre and out of place, but it was exactly on his lip and hung down as a real cigarette would. During the lecture, one of the restorers explained that the 'cigarette' was, in fact, pigeon shit which, she was pleased to inform everyone, had finally been cleaned away. 

The painting continues to be patched, cleaned and retouched to its former glory.

Black Hole 101

If this Hadron Cullender, or Head-on Collider thingy really can produce black holes, (when it's working again, that is) then I have something that I can't wait to vote into 'Black Hole 101' straight away.

According to Impact Lab's August 29th, 2008 article, Julia Lohmann, a UK artist has "mastered the art of transforming a sheep’s stomach into a lamp shade".

Mastered the art! MASTERED THE ART!

She seems to think that, because you can use the wool for knitting and eat all the meat, that it's OK (if you can 'master the art', of course,) to turn the stomach into a lampshade.

It takes a while to do, apparently, because you have to clean it before you give it a rounded shape by stretching it over a balloon (a balloon!) and letting it dry. Et Voila! And again.

Ye Gods...........

Wheltering Whim-whams

Thank you, Mr A Geyser, for this lovely phrase gleaned from your Sunday 7th comment.

A whim-wham, I've discovered, is a whimsical object. I like whimsical objects. According to Worldwide Words you can use 'whim-wham' when you don't really want to answer a question (that a child might ask, for example) or to create a whimsical idea: "a whim-wham for ducks to perch on, a whim-wham for a treacle mill, and a whim-wham to wind the sun up."

I am certainly somewhat whimsical, myself: a sheep having talking practice. I don't really welter in anything, though, (other than fears of disappearing down a black hole). As I've already set out my case for being eponymous, I like the idea of my being an eponymous whim-wham.

If I were in a more light-hearted mood, I might think that the Hadron Collider could sound a bit whimsical: creating black holes that might suck up the earth. We could then call it a 'whim-wham to swallow the earth'?