Tis The Season

Posted on June 1, 2009 by Varg

I hear hurricanes ablowing.
I know the end is coming soon.
I fear rivers over flowing.
I hear the voice of rage and ruin….

That’s right, it’s hurricane season. Here are my Big 3 tracking sites…

Stormpulse
Great interface. Real purty. It’s got spaghetti model overlays. A sliding path that can be used to monitor location and strength. Great for discussing historical storms for those “Remember Cindy before the big one?” “or, “When Frederick was coming we…” Just to add to those stories, let me tell you, Elena in 85 was a hell of a storm to be in the path of. Just look at how many people she freaked out.

Wunderground
A vast site for essentially checking any weather. When hurricanes are impending they provide all the basics including Spaghetti forecasts. This doesn’t have to do with storms ut their Wundermap is pretty damn awesome for navigating clouds that are over your damn house at that moment.

National Weather Service – National Hurricane Center
The granddaddy (and supplier of info) of the all. This is where to go at 11 a.m., 2 p.m, 5 p.m., 8 p.m., and 11 p.m. when you are checking to see if that potential Ivan / Katrina / Rita / Gustav / Ike is showing signs of swerving and basically you seeing it’s destruction on the news or experiencing it first hand. Also, their national, enhanced, full-resolution, looped, mosaic radar. It’s pretty damn cool.

2 thoughts on “Tis The Season”

Jonas Deffes says:

June 1, 2009 at 9:54 am

Thanks for the info. Hopefully, we won’t need these tools much this season.

Jonas Deffes, Personal Trainer and fitness expert
Ray Ward says:

June 1, 2009 at 7:58 pm

My Big 3 too. Two of the three told me to bug out for Katrina. All three told me (though not in so many words) that I didn’t have to bug out for Gustav.

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Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.