The Same Letter, 18 Ways

Reminder: There's more than one way to look at things.

(Sources: "Fancy Alphabets," The Pepin Press, 2007; "ABZ: More Alphabets and Other Signs," Chronicle Books, 2003; fonts available with Adobe Photoshop)

Well Hello, Lesula

I wonder if mine is a common reaction or if I'm just a science and nature geek. I was awestruck yesterday when I heard about a newly identified monkey species. Our new primate friend, lesula, features some interesting bright blue coloring. The lesula shown in a popular news photo seems to have soulful eyes and a wise face. How empathetic and smart the model actually is, I have no idea.

I find hope in the discovery of new life forms, assuming our new friends don't pose serious and immediate danger, as, for example, certain viruses do. It's intriguing to see yet another survival adaptation, and I love the sense that we simply don't know everything there is to know about, well, anything. I like the idea that we will keep discovering and learning for a very long time.

So, welcome lesula. Nice to know you're out there. And a belated welcome to the other nine recently discovered mammals featured in this Guardian article.

Looking Up

One very fine day, when I was a kid, I was riding my bike home from a friend's house. I remember it well. Beautiful day. The Arizona sky was pure blue but for a few fluffy white clouds. They were the kind of clouds I loved to stare at. In them I might see horses, or a waterfall, or horses slowly transforming into a waterfall, or something else astonishing and magical.

And that's exactly what I was doing while riding my bike home that day. I was looking up. I imagined walking on the clouds. I saw little kitten clouds separate from a bigger cloud, as if the kittens were jumping out of a basket. I saw an arm reach out from a huge reclining body.

At least, that's what I was doing until I ran my bike into a mail box.

Yes, I was that kid.

But I want to defend that goofy kid for a moment. Except for the bike, she had it right. We might all benefit from spending a few minutes each day with our heads in the clouds, freely daydreaming. Looking skyward, we remember we're on this planet together, under the same canopy. Watching clouds, we try to make sense of something amorphous, and for a while we can, but then it changes and we have to try to make sense of it in a new way (psst...just like in real life). Looking up, we think about not only what we can see, but also about what lies beyond what we can see.