Filed under: Art, Bipolar, Book Conservation, Connections, Failure, General Musings, Health, Politics, Predictions, Publishing, Science Fiction, Society, Survival, Travel, Wales, Writing stuff | Tags: art, bipolar, blogging, book conservation, bookbinding, brick walk, calfskin, Communion of Dreams, construction, creative process, darkness, depression, goatskin, health, jim downey, Kickstarter, leather, Legacy Bookbindery, literature, manic, mental health, politics, predictions, Science Fiction, society, St. Cybi's Well, survival, Wales, writing
I sewed up a book yesterday.
* * *
It’s been a rough year.
Oh, a good one, in many ways. The delightful trip to Wales was certainly wonderful. And I was pleased to finally wrap up our two-year work on the brick walkway; I recently used it, and it was nice to see how it has settled solidly after a couple of months weather. There have been other highlights, time spent with those I love, sharing & caring.
But it’s been a rough year. Mostly, because back in early spring I started my slow bipolar descent, and then got stuck stumbling along the bottom of my personal trough for the last six weeks or so. And, while I haven’t talked about it (or anything else) much here, the political situation has been extraordinarily depressing. It’s been a weird combination of things I have long dreaded and things I was writing to warn people about in St Cybi’s Well, and after significant effort to re-write the draft of that book to reflect the new political reality I found myself without the energy or inclination to continue. I felt paralyzed.
* * *
But, as these things go if you are lucky, the wheel continued to turn.
Even if the progress is steady, and consistent with my previous personal experience, it’ll be some 4 – 6 months before I completely climb out of the depressive part of my bipolar cycle.
But I sewed up a book yesterday. This one, for the first time in at least a year and a half:
Yeah, it’s one of the premium leather bindings of Communion of Dreams.
Finally.
For whatever reason, completing those books got mixed up emotionally with completing the writing of St Cybi’s Well. I think I understand it, but I don’t think that I can explain it. Well, I understand it now. At least part of it.
That’s how you solve art, sometimes. And how you walk out of depression: one part at a time, one step at a time.
The writing wants to start again.
In the meantime, I sew books.
Happy New Year.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Book Conservation, Civil Rights, Connections, Government, Health, Politics, Privacy, Society | Tags: Adolf Hitler, Aparthied, blogging, book conservation, bookbinding, health, history, Jim Crow, jim downey, Legacy Bookbindery, medicine, Missouri History, Nazi, Nazism, racism, Third Reich
Thought I’d share a small discovery I made this weekend.
I’m working on a book conservation project for an institutional client. It’s a patient ledger for a public hospital from the 1880s. It’s a large, heavy account book, and the binding structure had broken down, the original leather-covered covers have a bad case of red rot, and a number of the individual pages had been damaged. All in all, a fairly routine project; an important piece of mundane history, but not particularly interesting from a bookbinding standpoint.
So I took it apart, cleaned and repaired the individual pages, organized the folios back into sections, and set to resewing the book. Here’s the start of that process:
And here it is further along, as I’m sewing the individual sections onto ‘tapes’ as part of the new structure:
As I did this, something caught my eye I hadn’t noticed previously: here and there was the world “cold”.
Now, people don’t usually go to the hospital for a “cold”. Particularly in the 1880s, when hospitals were usually places most people avoided. So I looked a little more closely, and saw that the entries were under the column for where in the hospital patients had been put:
Here’s the top of that page:
Why on Earth would you put someone into a “cold” ward? That didn’t make sense.
Then I noticed something else, further across the page. Here’s a pic of it from a blank page, so as not to inadvertently violate someone’s privacy:
What I thought was “cold” was actually “col’d”, the abbreviation used for “Colored.”
As I’ve said previously, about another historical artifact:
So I understand the importance of preserving the artifacts of that history. And so understanding, felt that it was my responsibility to use the skills I have acquired to that end, no matter how distasteful the task. It was my small tribute to all who resisted, who persevered, who fought.
I’m not equating the two.
But it is important that we not forget either history.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Babylon 5, Bipolar, Brave New World, Connections, Depression, General Musings, Health, Predictions, Preparedness, Science Fiction, Survival, Writing stuff | Tags: Babylon 5, bipolar, blogging, brick walk, construction, creative process, darkness, depression, exercise, health, jim downey, manic, mental health, predictions, Science Fiction, society, survival, Wikipedia, writing
About 13 months ago I wrote the following:
But redoing a 300’+ length of brick walkway is no small task. To do it correctly would require a lot of work and a fair amount of expense for proper landscape edging, landscape fabric, gravel/chat, and sand. And if we were going to go to the trouble of redoing it, we wanted to do it correctly and expand it a bit.
As noted in that post, we (my wife and I) didn’t expect to finish the entire length of the walkway last year before winter set in. But we did get about 180′ of it done.
And this summer, after our various trips and other obligations were completed, we got back to the project. A few days ago I was able to post these pics to my Facebook page:
As you might guess, that’s where the walkway ends, some 320′ from where it began. If you look carefully, you can see our house hiding behind some trees at the top of the second image.
It was a *lot* of work. No surprise there. But I found it interesting to estimate (with reasonable accuracy) some of the numbers involved to get a scale of the project. We used about 25,000 pounds of crushed limestone. Some 2,500 bricks (most first dug up from the old walkway, supplemented by some salvaged brick from another neighborhood building tear-down). And about 1,600 pounds of sand. I have no idea how much old, too-damaged brick and dirt I dug out of the old walkway, but it was substantial enough for a good start to a landscape berm we’re going to put in along one edge of the walkway, as seen on the side of this image:
* * *
When I wrote the blog post linked above, I noted that I was probably at about the bottom of my mild bipolar cycle. It runs about 18 month from trough-to-trough, or peak-to-peak, so that would mean I’m currently somewhere between a manic high and a depressive low, but heading down. That feels about right, and fits with the onset of cool weather hinting at the winter to come.
I don’t look forward to that. Wrestling with the black dog is never easy.
But I now have a new path to walk, when I need somewhere for my feet to take me. A path which was constructed with much sweat, some blood, and a whole lot of love. A path which respects the past, but builds on it, extends it, and makes it more durable, whatever comes. That helps.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Art, General Musings, Humor, Man Conquers Space, Paleo-Future, Predictions, Science Fiction, Star Trek | Tags: art, blogging, flash fiction, humor, jim downey, predictions, reviews, Science Fiction, space, Star Trek, writing
“This new reboot of Star Trek: TOS succeeds on several levels, and all audiences are expected to find something they like in it. The choice to cast @@@$F%(&*&^^ in the role of Captain Kirk is not without controversy, however, as it is the first time a non-human actor has been selected to play the iconic character.”
Filed under: Humor, Science Fiction, tech, Writing stuff | Tags: blogging, flash fiction, humor, jim downey, medicine, Science Fiction, time travel, writing
The medic examined the wound, looked up at his patient. “Don’t worry, this’ll just take a few minutes. You’ll feel a stinging, like dissonance in nerve feedback from artificial skin, but that won’t last.”
“Um, like what?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. You wouldn’t know that.” He chuckled. “It’s kinda like a first-degree phaser burn.”
“Er …”
“Oops, did it again,” he laughed. He shook his head as he removed the cap on a small tube and shook some paste into the palm of his hand. It started moving. “It’s like a bad case of poison ivy, but only for about ten minutes. Then they’ll be done with the reconstruction and I’ll be back on my way.”
“I …”
“Just remember to flush the wound with water when the skin is healed, and it’ll all be fine.”
Filed under: Art, Religion, Science, Science Fiction, Travel, Wales, Writing stuff, YouTube | Tags: Anglesey, art, Ash Farm Country House, Barclodiad y Gawres, blogging, Bodowyr Burial Chamber, CADW, Caer Lêb, Christian, Dinas Dinlle, donjon, Ewloe Castle, false memory, Flint Castle, jim downey, Megalithic Portal, neolithic, religion, Rhuddlan Castle, Science Fiction, Shakespeare, St. Cybi's Well, travel, video, Wales, Wikipedia, writing, www youtube, Ynys Môn
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.
The next day we were in a neolithic kinda frame of mind. This was by design, actually, since one of the sites we wanted to see is only open on weekends, if you want to see the inside of it. That’s the Barclodiad y Gawres burial chamber on Anglesey, and I love this aerial image of it from CADW’s site:
I actually mentioned this site in a blog post three years ago about St Cybi’s Well, and I’ve been wanting to see it since I did the research about the site. And this was another case where I had a false memory of having previously visited it, thanks to that research. But this time I knew full well that I hadn’t been there … even as the false memory played out as having been there when we went looking for it. A very strange feeling.
Anyway. We stopped at the little shop in the nearby town, as instructed on the CADW site, and collected the key for the chamber. The site was only about a mile away, and we parked there in the lot for a small beach, and walked out to the mound.
The mound was excavated in the 1950s, and when that research was done they capped it with a concrete dome and turf to protect it and to return it to something like what it may have looked like when constructed 4,000 – 5,000 years ago. The entryway you can see in the image above allows anyone to partially enter the mound:
Where you see this:
The original entry path of the cruciform passage grave.*
The gate is locked, and the key allows you entrance. We wanted to get inside because I wanted to personally see the neolithic art:
There are better images (and more of other carved stones at the site) at the site linked above and elsewhere online.
After exploring inside the chamber we locked it back up, then explored the exterior. There on the headlands the wind was brisk, but it was a wonderful location with excellent views:
We returned the key to the shop, and went off in quest of other neolithic sites there on Ynys Môn. First was Caer Lêb, a Bronze Age settlement which is little more than mounds now.
Then we stopped at another passage grave: the Bodowyr Burial Chamber.
From there we headed back to the mainland, stopping for some lunch before visiting friends of Martha’s for a couple of hours. When we headed back to our beachside hotel it was still a bit early, so we decided to to explore the substantial Iron Age hillfort overlooking our portion of the beach:
From the hotel parking lot.
That’s Dinas Dinlle, and there’s not a lot of information available about it, though the Megalithic Portal has a number of images of the site. Here are some more of mine:
At the top. I’d guesstimate the hill to be about 100 meters high.
Along one of the defensive earthen walls.
Path across the village ‘floor’ to the other defensive wall. To the right the sea has claimed approximately a third of the original hillfort.
During WWII there was a military airport just up the coast, so at the base of the hillfort it wasn’t surprising to see a small defensive pillbox of that era:
I thought that it was an interesting juxtaposition.
The next day was our final one in Wales. After a nice breakfast we packed up and headed east. We were driving back to Manchester (where we would fly out the next day), but we thought to hit several castles along the way. The first of these was Rhuddlan Castle. We had visited Rhuddlan some years previously, but at that time it was undergoing some restoration work. CADW has a nice overview of the castle … in the form of an aerial fly-by:
It was nice to have a chance to really walk around the place and enjoy it.
From Rhuddlan we went to the first castle King Edward built to subdue Wales: Flint. Both Wikipedia and Castle Wales have good entries on Flint Castle, but I prefer my own images:
There were a number of these shadow-sculptures, which I really thought were striking. the images were drawn from history/Shakespeare.
Entry into the unusual large circular detached tower, called a donjon keep, which overlooks the main castle entrance.
The donjon had your typical central rooms, but it also had wide (7-8′) corridors in the walls, with defensive windows and arrow slits looking out.
Inner room of the donjon.
The lower inner corridor in the donjon keep.
Top of the donjon.
Inner ward of the castle.
Across the inner ward.
Our last castle of the trip was to be Ewloe. This small Welsh castle was one I’d never even heard of, as its history is both brief and unremarkable. But it is a surprisingly charming little place. I’ll add a couple of pics, but I like the ones at Castle Wales better, so would recommend that you check those out.
From there, it didn’t take us long to drive the rest of the way to Manchester, where once again we had reserved a room at Ash Farm:
It was a good trip. Thanks for sharing it with us here.
Jim Downey
* I’ve always been struck by the fact that the shape of these passage graves is a cross. Obviously, that was the shape which came to symbolize Christianity, and which was used to construct churches and cathedrals for hundreds of years. But I don’t recall having ever read anything where someone has drawn the obvious connection between the two. Evidently that’s a gap in my knowledge.
Filed under: Architecture, Civil Rights, Privacy, Religion, Science Fiction, The Prisoner, Travel, Wales, Weather | Tags: 12th century, B&B, Black Lion pub, blogging, Caernarfon, Criccieth Castle, jim downey, Llŷn Peninsula, Portmeirion, privacy, Science Fiction, St Beuno, St. Cybi's Well, The Anglesey Arms, The Prisoner, travel, TV, Wales, Wikipedia, writing
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.
Took this the next morning at breakfast in the Black Lion pub, just had to share it:
While we’d had exceptionally nice weather through most of our trip, the next day we woke to more low-hanging clouds, light rain, and mist. In other words, characteristically Welsh weather.
We next had an Air B&B up outside of Caernarfon. Charming place. Lots of character. Bit too much for my tastes, actually. Would have been fine if I were a grad student again, but I’ve now come to like more luxury when on vacation. Like a bed which isn’t a foot off the floor. A bathroom which isn’t down the hall, up some stairs, then down another hall. And a door which *doesn’t* lock from outside the room. It made me … uncomfortable. At least the host was pleasant, though in a way which a murder mystery writer might describe. Yes, I have an over-active imagination, but still. We stayed the one night, but high-tailed it to a conventional holiday hotel elsewhere in the area the next day.
But before we went there, we took a trip south to pay homage to Number 6. Yup, we went to Portmeirion:
Even The Village needs maintenance work now and again.
“Rover! Here boy!”
OK, this is hard to make out. But there in the middle of the image is a modern security camera. Given how Portmeirion was used as the setting for The Prisoner, with it’s all-encompassing monitoring, I just thought it a bit ironic to actually see this.
After a nice afternoon in Portmeirion we went up to Caernarfon and strolled around a bit. I was surprised at just how much the city shuts down at the end of the business day — they really roll up the sidewalks.
But there was still one pub going strong, at least: The Anglesey Arms.
Where we saw this. I thought the paint job would appeal to a number of my friends.
The next morning we decided to go out onto the Llŷn Peninsula, first going to Criccieth Castle. Here’s the description of Criccieth from St Cybi’s Well — see if you think it fits with the image from Castle Wales below.
Darnell went across to the exit into the castle grounds proper. The path turned left, then right into a copse of trees. When he emerged from these, the massive gatehouse seemed to loom directly overhead. The path cut up the hill at an angle on the north side, climbing steeply, then switched back before coming around to the front of the gatehouse. There was little doubt that when the castle was in operation, taking this path would mean that any attackers would be under constant fire from arrows, bolts, and heavy stones coming from the walls and the outer gatehouse. Trying to go straight up the hillside would have been even worse, because while it was a shorter path, it was much more precarious footing, and still under direct fire from the outer gatehouse tower and curtain wall.
And of course, if you made it past the outer gatehouse, then you had to contend with the huge inner gatehouse, a massive structure of twin D-shaped towers sporting a delightful array of arrow loops and murder holes.
Do go and check out the castle itself: it’s damned impressive, even in its ruined state. And the lump of hill it sits on is a stunning site, with fantastic views of the town and country around:
From Criccieth, we did some exploring on the peninsula, then thought to go find a small church we had heard about from friends years before. This is St Beuno’s at Pistyll, on the north shore, and its so small that it doesn’t even have a Wikipedia entry:
St Beuno’s is a 12th century structure, though it has seen some updates and repairs over time. Still, it’s largely intact, and feels like it both inside and out:
Note the rushes on the floor.
If you look carefully, you can see the holes in the rafters for where thatch was held in place. The slate roof is only about 100 years old.
I love these two pans of moss & stone in the window ledges, an old tradition related to Easter:
Moss pan in the window, 12th century stone font for holy water in the foreground.
Outside:
The narrow window is called a “Leper’s squint”, where those who were not permitted inside the church could witness mass.
And around:
Lovely.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Religion, Science, Science Fiction, Travel, Wales, Writing stuff | Tags: art, Black Lion pub, blogging, CADW, Capel Soar y Mynydd, Cenlisinus stone, Church of Saint David, Cilgerran Castle, Dallas Dumelus stone, Elenydd, jim downey, Ogham stone, Pontrhydfendigaid, Say Something In Welsh, science, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, Strata Florida, travel, Wikipedia, writing
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.
We were going to head north, to meet up with another of Martha’s friends from the online Welsh language community. But we decided to explore a bit along the way. Exploring, we discovered a castle we hadn’t visited previously: Cilgerran.
Here’s the nice image/intro discription from CADW:
This beautifully located castle has a romantic air. The coracle, a one-person boat native to these parts, has a history dating back thousands of years. Cilgerran Castle, which overlooks the Teifi, a river favoured by the peculiar vessel, isn’t doing too badly either. Almost 800 years young and counting.Take the wall-walk to truly appreciate why it was built here. Stunning location. Perfect for stunning attackers. The Normans first saw the potential and established an early ‘ringwork’ castle here, but the imposing masonry castle we see today was probably the work of William Marshal, earl of Pembroke.
It really is an impressive structure, and we enjoyed poking around it for a good while.
Main gate.
Inner ward.
Not a strawman I’d care to fight.
The walls were surprisingly thick — about 10′. Which is about half again what you normally see in castles of this age.
Definitely glad that we stopped to check it out.
Martha’s friend Huw lives outside Aberystwyth, and we took a room at the Black Lion pub in nearby Pontrhydfendigaid. He met us there, and we went over to Strata Florida, another Cistercian abbey which played a very important role in Welsh history, and was a major center of learning. It also plays an important role in St Cybi’s Well, with one of the chapters titled with the name. Here’s a bit of that:
He led Darnell through the gateway, onto the smooth green lawn which once had been the floor of the abbey church. To the left and right were the foundations of the original walls, less than a half meter tall, and somewhat wider than that. Beyond those were the remains of the exterior walls of the north and south aisles. Looking down the long nave, and across to the far wall of the north transept, Darnell saw a small group of people before a large slate sign. From his previous visits, he knew that this was a marker dedicated to a famous Welsh medieval poet who was buried on the grounds.
This was familiar ground, ground he had walked before. And yet, for the first time he felt something different. It was an echo of that resonance he had felt at St David’s Cathedral, of the shimmering energy of Stonehenge. Something deep. Powerful. Old.
Whether the ground was so imbued with this strange … energy … before the monks had chosen this spot for their abbey, or whether the energy was the effect of hundreds of years of worship on the location, he didn’t know. But there was something there which touched him, which opened a door he had only recently come to realize even existed.
It really does have a special feel. See for yourself (first image is from Wikipedia):
Graves of princes and poets.
From Strata Florida, Huw took us up into Elenydd, the so-called ‘green desert of Wales’. It’s an upland plateau, a wild and largely empty place. And it is beautiful in its starkness, particularly with the clouds hanging less than 100′ above us:
Lovely.
Huw had one more treat in store for us that afternoon: the Church of Saint David at Llanddewi Brefi. While most of the current structure dates to the 19th century, the central tower is clearly 12th century:
The interior of the church:
But what is most impressive are the Ogham stones, probably dating back to the 6th century:
The next day the low-hanging clouds which had been threatening rain delivered on their threat. It was a good day for driving again in the Green Desert, with a visit to “the most remote chapel in all Wales”, Capel Soar y mynydd:
And while the chapel may be remote, they’re up with the times:
Jim Downey
Filed under: Book Conservation, Reproduction, Science, Science Fiction, Society, Travel, Wales | Tags: blogging, book conservation, bookbinding, Castell Henllys, Craig Rhosyfelin, Gors Fawr, Hywel Dda, jim downey, Legacy Bookbindery, Llandysul, neolithic, science, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, technology, travel, Wales, Wikipedia
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.
We spent the bulk of Sunday driving to Llandysul in SW Wales. There we’d made arrangements to stay with an online friend of Martha’s.
Monday we spent mostly in prehistoric Britain, starting with Castell Henllys. This is an iron age hillfort which has been partially reconstructed, using solid archeological research done on the site. Since the roundhouses have been rebuilt right on the original foundations, you get a real sense of what life in the village must have been like. You can see it, feel it, smell it. They’ve done a remarkable job in building the structures and constructing the everyday items which would have been inside them.
Typical traps between the defensive berms: sharp rocks, pot holes, mires.
Inside defensive berm.
What you see as you come through the defensive perimeter.
Nice to see how the thatch around the vent hole was replaced recently.
Common house and animal pen.
Entrance to the chieftain’s hut.
Interior roof support structure.
Simple loom.
Grindstone.
Firepit.
Cooking gear.
Decorative end of log seat.
Interior wall.
‘Bedroom.’
Interior decoration.
Pole lathe.
Storage/work shed.
Fish basket.
Roof detail.
Granary.
We decided to have lunch at a local pub, then I wanted to make another stop at Craig Rhosyfelin (from Part 3), to take some additional images for my own reference in working on St Cybi’s Well:
Approaching the point.
And from there we went exploring — driving off into an area we hadn’t been before, just looking to see what we might find on the map. And we wound up at Gors Fawr, a wonderful remote neolithic stone circle. With the clouds hanging low and covering the nearby mountain tops, you couldn’t ask for a more atmospheric scene:
The whole circle.
The ‘avenue stones.’
Lastly, on our way back to Llandysul, we stopped by the Hywel Dda Centre in Whitland. We had been to the Centre previously, but only when it wasn’t open. This time we had a chance to chat with a charming docent, who shared his enthusiasm for Welsh history. And of professional interest, we got to see the excellent facsimile copy of ‘Boston Manuscript of the Laws of Hywel Dda‘:
It was a delightful day.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Religion, Science Fiction, Travel, Wales | Tags: Ash Farm Country House, blogging, jim downey, narrowboats, Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, Science Fiction, St. Cybi's Well, The Swan with Two Nicks, Thomas Telford, travel, Valle Crucis Abbey, video, Wales, Wikipedia
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
It was the last day for my sister and her family, so we decided to hit a couple of interesting places on our way from Dolgellau to Manchester, where we had a B&B for the night.
First was Valle Crucis Abbey, outside of Llangollen. Valle Crucis is another of the big Cistercian abbeys, and one of the best preserved, giving you a chance to walk through and really get a feel for what it must have been like to live in:
It’s a cool place.
Next up was the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct outside of the town of Llangollen.
Most Americans know very little of the early industrial revolution in Great Britain, and the role which the early canal system played in helping launch that fundamental societal change. Prior to the development of railroads, canals were crucial for moving goods and materials in the UK. And Thomas Telford was one of the greatest civil engineers of the era, who helped to construct the network of canals.
The canals no longer play a critical role in the economy of the UK, but they have become a popular holiday destination, and people often take tours on narrowboats or even rent them as a short-stay vacation home. Narrowboats like these:
After walking across the aqueduct, we decided to take a ride on one of the narrowboats from “Jones the Boats.” We got tickets, then went and had a nice lunch at the Telford Inn while we waited for our turn.
The trip back and forth across the aqueduct takes about 45 minutes, and the views over the Dee River (the river is some 125′ below) are quite lovely:
Heading out.
Note the lack of any kind of rail or ledge on the one side. And the edge of the trough is only about 6″ up out of the water. You can hang right over the edge of it if you want.
There were dogs …
… and cats.
Heading back.
Everyone seemed to enjoy it.
I certainly did. And I could see doing a couple days on one of the fancy narrowboats.
After the aqueduct we continued on to Manchester. Our B&B (which we’ve used on previous trips) was a charming place: Ash Farm Country House. After getting settled in, we popped next door to a fantastic gastro-pub for dinner and some real ale: The Swan with Two Nicks.
It was a great way to close out the portion of the trip which Celeste, Steven, and Haley shared with us. The next morning we dropped them off at the airport, and Martha and I headed back into Wales.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 