Sunday, June 24, 2012

Keeping Silent After Fukushima is Barbaric | Ryuichi Sakamoto



Ryuichi Sakamoto
Ryuichi Sakamoto is one of the most famous Japanese music composers and pianist. He formed Yellow Magic Orchestra from 1978 and won an Oscar in 1988 for best original score for the music in “The Last Emperor”. In 2009, he was awarded the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres from France’s Ministry of Culture for his musical contributions. In 2010, he received the Minister of Education Award for Fine Arts in Japan.
We had recently started a signature campaign recently in support of the people in Japan struggling against the nuclear re-start in Oi .
We have received a note of thanks and solidarity from Sakamoto Ryuichi, one of the best and most famous music composers in Japan. He has been actively involved in various projects to provide assistance to survivors of the Great East Japan Earthquake.
Earlier on DiaNuke.org, we had re-published his essay on Fukushima and the struggle for a nuclear-free world: Our raised voice, our music is the way to move beyond Fukushima
We are grateful to our friend Ayako Oishi for communicating Indian people’s solidarity to Mr. Sakamoto, in response to which he has sent this message.
Please read below Ryuichi Sakamoto’s message to India, in English and Japanese:
親愛なるインドのみなさま,
まずはじめに、2011年3月11日起きた大災害に際し、
みなさまから大きなサポートをいただいたことに心から感謝を申し上げます。
ご記憶いただいていると思いますが、
東北地方に起きた大きな地震と津波が 、チェルノブイリ事故以来となる
人類史上最悪の原発事故を引き起こしました。
日本政府は2011年12月に事故の収束を宣言しましたが、
1年経ったいまでも、実際に福島原子力第一発電所からは放射能が漏れつづけています。
大変に悲しく心が痛みますが、日本には人が住むことのできない大地が出来てしまいました。
そしていまだに10万人もの人々が家を離れ避難を余儀なくされています。
今日は、原子力発電所と原子力全般についてわたしの考えをお伝えしたいと思います。
「アウシュヴィッツ以後、詩を書くことは野蛮である」とアドルノは言いました。
ぼくははこう言い替えたい、「フクシマのあとに声を発しないことは野蛮である」と。
日本は三度被爆しました。
ヒロシマ、ナガサキ、そしてフクシマ。
ヒロシマの原爆記念碑には
「安らかに眠って下さい 過ちは繰返しませぬから」と刻まれていますが、
私たちの国は原子力の平和利用という幻想によって、再び過ちを犯してしまいました。
これでは原爆によって亡くなった方たち、
その放射能によって発病し亡くなった何十万の人々に、
言い訳のしようがありません。
人類史上最悪の事故によって「原子力の平和利用」という夢から覚めた私たちに今できることは、
それが兵器であろうと発電のためであろうと、人類は核と共存できないことを世界に示すことです。
坂本龍一
(音楽家)
Dear Friends in India,
First of all, I would like to personally thank all of you for your sympathies and supports for victims of Japan’s 311 disaster.
As you may remember, the huge earthquake and tsunami that hit the northern Japan area caused the worst nuclear disaster in human history since the Chernobyl accident.
The Japanese government declared an end to the world’s worst nuclear crisis in December 2011. However, the fact is, the leakage of radioactive material from the Fukushima-1 Nuclear Power Plant is on going even now, after a year has passed. It is extremely sad and painful to admit that in Japan, we now have land where no one will ever be able to live. At least 100,000 people remain displaced and not able to return their homes.
Today, I would like to share my opinion about nuclear power plants and nukes in general.
Adorno said “Writing poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric.”
I would like to revise it and say, “Keeping silent after Fukushima is barbaric.”
Japan has been irradiated 3 times: Hiroshima, Nagasaki then Fukushima.
Engraved on the memorial cenotaph in Hiroshima is an epitaph:
“Rest in Peace, for we shall not repeat the error,”
However, our country has committed the same error, guised by the hallucinatory proclamation to use nuclear energy peacefully.
No excuse can be made for those tens of thousands of people who were lost to the atomic bombing and the subsequent radiation poisoning.
Now that the worst accident in history has awoken us from our deluded slumber to “use nuclear energy peacefully,” the next step is to prove to the world that people and nukes cannot coexist, whether it is for weapons or electricity.
Ryuichi Sakamoto
(Composer/Musician)

Friday, September 2, 2011


What the Water Knows

What the mouth sings, the soul must learn to forgive.
A rat’s as moral as a monk in the eyes of the real world.
Still, the heart is a river
pouring from itself, a river that cannot be crossed.

It opens on a bay
and turns back upon itself as the tide comes in,
it carries the cry of the loon and the salts
of the unutterably human.

A distant eagle enters the mouth of a river
salmon no longer run and his wide wings glide
upstream until he disappears
into the nothing from which he came. Only the thought remains.

Lacking the eagle’s cunning or the wisdom of the sparrow,
where shall I turn, drowning in sorrow?
Who will know what the trees know, the spidery patience
of young maple or what the willows confess?

Let me be water. The heart pours out in waves.
Listen to what the water says.
Wind, be a friend.
There’s nothing I couldn’t forgive.

Sam Hamill



Friday, June 17, 2011

Fukushima - let us speak daily gratitude to & for our world's waters

Fukushima: 'Biggest Industrial Catastrophe In History'

By Dahr Jamail

16 June, 2011
Al-Jazeera-English

"Scientific experts believe Japan's nuclear disaster to be far worse than governments are revealing to the public.

'Fukushima is the biggest industrial catastrophe in the history of mankind," Arnold Gundersen, a former nuclear industry senior vice president, told Al Jazeera. . . '"

To continue reading this article, click on this link - - - http://www.countercurrents.org/jamail160611.htm



*



When one part of our global body - oceanic or otherwise - is hurt, every of us are impacted. 

I am reminded again of Masaru Emoto's plea to us all to speak gratitude to and for our world's waters each and every day - as we shower, drink, walk by the sea, refresh the water on our bird tables, water our plants, experience cool dew on bare feet, walk in the rain. . .   




_/\_ 

Namaste




Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Lynne McTaggart on Water


Lynne McTaggart describes research which suggests that water is one medium of this coherent communication system especially in living plants and animals:

"This would mean that water is like a tape recorder, imprinting and carrying information whether the original molecule is still there or not. The shaking of the containers, as is done in homeopathy, appears to act as a method of speeding up this process. So vital is water to the transmission of energy and information that Benveniste's own studies actually demonstrate that molecular signals cannot be transmitted in the body unless you do so in the medium of water. In Japan, a physicist called Kunio Yasue of the Research Institute for Information and Science, Notre Dame Seishin University in Okayama, also found that water molecules have some role to play in organizing discordant energy into coherent photons - a process called 'superradiance'.This suggests that water, as the natural medium of all cells, acts as the essential conductor of a molecule's signature frequency in all biological processes and that water molecules organize themselves to form a pattern on which can be imprinted wave information. If Benveniste is right, water not only sends the signal but also amplifies it."



Monday, June 6, 2011

FLOTILLA








     





This response arrived from a friend - 

". . . I've been following with interest and delight your progress with the boats, and not infrequently find myself musing on the project's many meanings. The images you've given us on the blog -- of the boats in ones and twos, arrayed in rank and file, in a nested circle -- have been gorgeously suggestive. I have grown fond of these small paper barques, their grace, their simplicity, their innocence. I'm charmed by the picture of them clamped with clothespins for gluing -- 'watching' them being made like that resonates through the word craft, as boat, as process, as workmanship.

It's when I imagine them installed as you described last week, rising up the wall, that I am most moved by your concept. Despite an undeniable innate dignity, there is also something comic about each boat, poignantly so; a delicacy that becomes almost cartoonish. To consider each unit on its own, it's hardly a boat at all, in a sense, as much the idea of a boat, a boat dream. All alone, there isn't one that could survive a bathtub, much less be seaworthy. And yet, to consider them together, they become mighty, a flotilla, as you've said, or an armada, as one of your blog crew suggested. And herein lies the great power of your poem (for I agree with you, the installation is fundamentally a song) as it reflects on the human condition. 

Like your boats, we too are vessels, noble in our aspirations, but a bit comic as well when we propose our inviolability against the world, or imagine ourselves as self somehow ending at our skin. Our vulnerability belies such a claim.  (Indeed, despite its balletic grandeur, there is something existentially disquieting about the film in this regard, a sense of each boat drifting in its own isolation, at the whim of the currents. To end up belly up under the ice is a grim fate.)  It is not as separate vessels, but together, as a collective, united, ascending soul, that the boats achieve their highest nobility. . . and become something nearly indomitable. " Timothy Cahill








Saturday, April 23, 2011

Beyond the oil spill



The tragedy of an ailing Gulf - New York Times article 


How easy it is to point fingers at the 'other' - we do this in so many ways and in so many areas of our life. 
This particular Gulf-related situation begs the question. . . are we not all BPs; as responsible for the catastrophe as we are for the clean-up? The metaphorical implications implied in this question are many and plain. . . 




gulf |gəlf|
noun
1. a deep inlet of the sea almost surrounded by land, with a narrow mouth.
2. a deep ravine, chasm, or abyss.
figurative a large difference or division between two people or groups, or between viewpoints, concepts, or situations : a wide gulf between theory and practice.


Friday, April 1, 2011

                                                 


                                                 Take a small boat
                                                 down the river. Fish
                                                 in the rain, cherish
                                                 the green moss, love
                                                 the waters that offer up
                                                 their purity – love
                                                 the waters

                                                 CB





Sunday, March 27, 2011

What is soft is strong







"Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong" ~ Lao-Tzu





Monday, February 21, 2011

New oil sketches


I
Explorers Cove, Hjorth Hill, Antarctica



II
The Birthplace of Waterfalls - Western Fiordland







Friday, October 29, 2010

Corexit



Penelope sent me this link this afternoon - - - accounts of the health hazards associated with Corexit. This makes for depressing reading, but how can we not?

FLORIDA OIL SPILL LAW - Documenting the Oil Disaster in the Gulf of Mexico.


Breastplate_It is all one water - a finger in a tide pool brings our shores together
with text by Marylinn Kelly
2010
Oil & pencil on paper
560 x 380MM



Breastplate_And the sea on their right, how she murmurs
with text by Pamela Morrison
2010
Oil & pencil on paper
560 x 380MM (v x h)





Saturday, October 16, 2010

Standing in the Heart



As the exhibition's opening date approached, friends from the blogging community came on board with this project, many contributing texts for inclusion in the Waters I Have Known series. The responses in Standing in the Heart - An Ocean of Words -  relate specifically to the themes of 'oceans and community'. 

You can follow the threads of this conversation by clicking on the link below -    




STANDING IN THE HEART   |   A Communal Breastplate  & Ocean of Words
2010
Transcribed texts - pencil on gessoed paper









Friday, October 15, 2010

BREASTPLATE III_Rebecca



Breastplate III_And what did she see at the sea (text by Rebecca Loudon)
Oil & pencil on paper
2010
520 x 380MM



and what did she see at the sea

Dire Whelk
Dusky Tegula
Fingered Limpit
Hooded Puncturella
Veiled Chiton
Bat Star
By-the-Wind Sailor
Crumb-of-bread Sponge
Eye Fringed Worm
Sugar Wrack
Frilled Anemone
Bull Kelp
Ghost Shrimp
Sanderling
Walleye Surfperch
Volcano Barnacle
Stiff-footed Sea Cucumber
Leather Star
Innkeeper Worm
Lug Worm

REBECCA LOUDON






details




Monday, October 11, 2010

BREASTPLATES (process)



These small paintings on heavy cotton paper have as their compositional 'template' the turtle shell,
a form that references the Gulf crisis and suggests to me the following - 


breastplate
protective shield
sacred space
shelter
multi-chambered heart


each of which we do well to take care of


Breastplate I - Turtle Talk (detail/process)
G  ULF series
Oil on paper
2010



Breastplate II_Let us not forget the silver-headed minnows - (detail/process)








Fini


Breastplate II_Battaglia ii_Let us not forget the silver-headed minnows
Oil & pencil on paper
2010
520 x 380MM



Twenty days, twenty ways



studio process . . .

















details






Fini


Twenty Days, Twenty Ways 
Image portals for Waters I Have Known
The Diversion, Marlborough
2010
Oil on gessoed board
910 x 910MM



Sunday, October 10, 2010

Group Dynamic



Process. . . 




I initially thought the painting was finished at this stage, but the longer I lived with it, the more lonesome these images seemed. I realized they were asking for company - a community to wrap around them, to give them purpose and meaning. . .







details







Fini



Group Dynamic
Image portals for Waters I Have Known
2010
Oil on board
910 x 910MM



Friday, September 24, 2010

Ice Lines





from the series WATERS I HAVE KNOWN_Ice Lines i
Oil on paper
2010
760 x 1050 MM (v x h)
This work is available from The Diversion
THIS WORK HAS SOLD



AT HOME IN ANTARCTICA

In this place, silence has a voice 
wide-ranging as the continent. 
Some say it's on the cusp 
of madness, the way it hums 
and stutters, mutters to itself 
in quietest tones. 

In this place, the universe 
brims. Inside absence,
presence. Inside distance, 
dust and our sleeping earth
dreaming beneath her thin blue
mask of ice. 

In this place, the necessity 
of memory, recollections
of a loved one's face, shape
of laughter, weight of breath. 

In this place, nostalgia 
roams, patient as slow
hands on skin transparent
as melt-water. Nights are light
and long. Shadows settle
on the shoulders of air. 

Time steps out of line 
here stops to thaw
the frozen hearts of icebergs. 
Sleep isn't always easy in this place
where the sun stays up all night
and silence has a voice. 


CB - Explorers Cove, Taylor Dry Valleys, Antarctica 2005




detail i