IBIS AND CROW: A PARABLE

Karen Bourque, artist 

One of the last places we visited before leaving “The Berry” (New Iberia, Louisiana) for our Spring and Summer sojourn on The Mountain at Sewanee, Tennessee was the home of Darrell and Karen Bourque in Church Point, Louisiana. Darrell, the former poet laureate of Louisiana, and Karen, a superb glass artist, served an Oriental tea for the occasion of “unveiling” a piece of exquisite glass art that Karen had made for me and Dr. Victoria Sullivan.

This year, we enjoyed several meal get-togethers and poetry readings with the Bourques and always came away inspired by this unique Louisiana couple. The Bourques have their own art gallery of famous Louisiana artists scattered throughout their renovated Cajun cottage, which is set among lush Louisiana plantings – bamboo, ginger trees, citrus trees, and various ferns in the undergrowth. Our conversations with them are always a mix of art, poetry, plants, good cuisine, and people of interest – including the newly-elected Pope who appeared on the balcony of the Papal palace on television shortly after we arrived at the Bourque home. Karen, a Roman Catholic, and Darrell, a Buddhist convert from Catholicism, engaged us in a lively conversation about whether the Pope would be more liberal than his predecessor.

Karen’s “Ibis and Crow: A Parable” glass piece was one of the last pieces to be unpacked when we settled in on The Mountain yesterday. We hung the lovely piece, 15 ¾” x 21 l/2,” made of sliced agate, Siberian jade, Jasper slab, Silver leaf jasper, Fluorite slab, Amethyst, Sun Stone, and stained glass, in a window of the dining area overlooking the small wood behind our cottage at Sewanee. The morning sun streams through green, yellow, red, and aqua glass, creating a reminder of a cherished friendship, and sets a contented tone for each day.

"Ibis and Crow: A Parable"

Karen chose my favorite bird, the crow, to include in the frame and the fluorite stone “to focus on enhancement of Diane's natural abilities and work as a scholar and poet; and the jasper stone with its associations to Vickie’s work in the natural world.” She also explained the symbolism of crows as representing transcendence and unconditional love, as well as that of creation and spiritual strength. The Ibis represents the god Thot, the god of learning and the sciences, and art in general.

“The other stones are mainly those of protection, spirituality, and peace, the very things you have both dedicated your lives to. My wish for both of you is that those qualities will guide you in all the days of your lives…the symbolism of the ibis and the crow, your respective favorite birds channeling your life’s work, can be seen everywhere in who and what you both are. It is my hope that you enjoy giving this piece a home as much as I have enjoyed making it for you” she wrote in the legend accompanying the “Parable.”

I call the glass work a “tribute” piece that only a sensitive artist like Karen could create. During conversations this year, she garnered information from both of us to create the representations, and we laughed at how “cunnai,” she was in wiggling information from us during casual conversations at the dinner table or during breaks at poetry readings so that she could create an authentic art piece.

Karen and Darrell Bourque, and
Diane Moore (middle)

Karen’s art pieces hang in many homes in Acadiana, and she has created stunning, larger works for the Ernest Gaines Center at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette and for last year’s Louisiana Book Festival. She’s a great partner for Louisiana’s finest poet, Darrell Bourque, whose works capture the essence of the Cajun culture. Darrell’s latest volume of poetry, Megan’s Guitar and Other Poems From Acadie, is a masterpiece that focuses on the history and culture of south Louisiana, and, in my opinion, is the apex of his career as a poet and professor.

TWO SPRING SEASONS

Not everyone gets to experience two Springs, but we enjoy a double Spring every year when we leave New Iberia in March during the time the azaleas, Japanese magnolia, and other purple flowering plants are blooming and return to The Mountain at Sewanee, Tennessee. There, daffodils have begun to show their white and yellow heads, forsythia, and tulip poplar aren’t long behind, and by late April, I’ve sharpened my trowel and begun “putting something in the ground,” as folks around here call the planting process.

This week we return to The Mountain, climbing from below sea level elevation in bayou country to 2,000 feet, and for a swamp dweller, it’s enough of a climb to warrant a few days of adaptation – from marsh and bayou to rocky plateau – from rich Cajun cuisine to mountain barbecue – from French accent to hill folk drawl – the diversity in culture is pronounced.

Fortunately, my writing rooms face woodsy views in both places, so my Muse has plenty of room to develop ideas, visions, novels, poetry, and, of course, blogs. My sojourn in New Iberia this year has included a lot of socializing, and I have some trepidation about leaving old friends because life on The Mountain is sometimes “austere,” as a good friend at Sewanee describes it. In a village of 2000, comprised of mostly college students, jaunts into neighboring states and places to get what we call “a shot of the city,” are frequently called for. However, I write more poetry and enjoy the contemplative aspects of mountain living, particularly since I’m an associate of the Order of St. Mary where the Benedictine routine of prayer and worship takes place daily.

This year during my sojourn in New Iberia, I finished writing a young adult novel, the third in a series about Martin Romero, the young traiteur who is the hero in lively stories about south Louisiana; namely Martin’s Quest and Martin Finds His Totem. Martin and the Last Tribe is set in Isle de Jean Charles where a remote Biloxi-Chitimacha tribe on the Gulf of Mexico struggles for survival despite the threat of being inundated by the sea because they aren’t included in a levee protection plan developed by the government.

When Martin’s Uncle Joe barricades himself in his cabin on the Island rather than move to higher ground, Martin goes down to perform an unwelcome healing and ends up in trouble. More trouble brews when an oil rig explodes in the Gulf, endangering the marshes and wildlife of Isle de Jean Charles. A storm threatens to flood the Island, and he finds himself with more adventure than he wants to handle…

Martin and the Last Tribe was written for middle grade and young adult readers and should be released in May. The painting on the cover was rendered by my brother; the design by my grandson Martin. Those readers who saw the movie, Beasts of the Southern Wild may recognize the compelling setting. More about the book closer to publishing date. My desk is moving to higher ground!

GRANDIOSITY



The Grandiose Personality

 I read recently that the estimate of the number of Jews killed at death camps has been increased from six million to an estimate of fifteen to twenty million victims. The new statistic sent a chill down my spine, not because I’m a practicing Jew, but because I'm a practicing Christian. The statistics evoked thoughts about the grandiose personality of Adolph Hitler who engineered the mass extermination of Jews and other groups and about the general mayhem grandiose personalities cause nowadays. After reading the entire article about the up-to-date statistic, I ordered a second copy of Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning and have spent a week reading and pondering the account of how he survived the death camps of the Nazis.

During the past few years, I’ve been thrown into the company of several grandiose personalities who by their aggressive behavior have caused some of my friends to suffer – not in gas ovens – but in the ovens of abusive talk, injustice, and manipulation. According to Erving Goffman, a grandiose personality is defined as a person who begins his/her “program” by promoting himself/herself in the family hierarchy…moves backward to grandiose statements about the high rank and quality of his forebears, and forward to an exalted view of what he proposes soon to accomplish. At the same time, this person may become “tremendously expansive and feel very big and powerful and start all kinds of overambitious projects…going back to being a big balloon.” I was reminded of Lewis Thomas’s description of meetings where people’s egos rise like big balloons while they compete and cat scratch for power, status, omniscience…

Sometimes grandiose people envision themselves as kings or presidents and have lavish fantasies in which they’re the principal players. In everyday life, they downgrade other people, their projects, and dreams, and they regard themselves as special, behaving self-referentially and boasting about themselves pretentiously. They slay many well-meaning and rational people who get in their way because they're trying to carry out a mission.

Viktor Frankl was a victim of the Holocaust author, Hitler, a cogent example of the grandiose personality. Frankl survived by believing that every human has the potential to transcend evil or insanity by making responsible choices. He said that in contrast to Freudian and Adlerian “depth psychology,” which entails delving into an individual’s past and his/her unconscious instincts and desires, he practiced “height psychology,” which focuses on a person’s conscious decisions and actions, to find meaning in his/her sufferings. Being human points toward someone or something other than himself/herself (the very opposite of grandiosity), giving that self to a cause with love, or to another person with love.



Experiencing Beauty
(The Sewanee woods
behind our cottage)

Frankl mentions three ways we can discover meaning in life: 1) by creating a work or doing a deed (and not a dastardly one); 2) by experiencing or encountering someone and accepting that person’s uniqueness; and 3) by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering. The people I’ve observed who’ve suffered at the hands of grandiose personalities (myself included) have gone on to transcend their suffering, taken up a new vocation or an expansion of an old one that got zapped, or found a group where reciprocal love flourished.

Frankl also says that a fourth way of discovering meaning in life could be by experiencing goodness, truth, or beauty. These are serious thoughts on a beautiful Spring day when balmy winds out of the South remind us that if there are grandiose things in the world, it‘s the natural world which “The One Whom None Can Hinder” created.

As for grandiose personalities, when victims of these delusional personalities ask me for counsel on how to deal with the grandiose, I tell the sufferer to “shake the dust.”

Photograph by Victoria I. Sullivan