Serendipity

MM asked 'why do we do this'. Thoughftul answers have ensued. It strikes me that the few of us here, that have STUCK here are thinkers as well as tinkerers. Collectors but doers. Writers as well as engineers. Poets really in addition to opticians and electricians. Teachers in addition to artists. Musicians and scientists. Each in our own way, doesn't matter what we do for a living.

So why do I do it? I've seen Ron and Owen and Ken eloquent on this question, I see MM and Charlier equally eloquent. Recently someone new asked a similar question.

I keep coming back in my own mind to word I head George Martin use in his biography of recording the Beatles. Serendipity. A Blue Nun bottle left on a Leslie speaker cabinet begins vibrating at the end of a White album cut and they leave it in .. that sort of thing

Serendipity is a propensity for making fortunate discoveries while looking for something unrelated.

Coined by Horace Walpole (1717-92) in a letter to Mann (dated Jan. 28); he said he formed it from the Persian fairy tale "The Three Princes of Serendip," whose heroes "were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of."

I wasnt in quest of any of this when I went to Adlier in 1964, or the Abrahms in 74 and heard the band in the starchamber. Those same weeks I probably went to movies, plays, classes, stores etc. When I projected stars in the closet I wasnt in quest of writing and giving shows, stuffing barns full of strange objects. When I bought a plant light I wasnt in quest of an aurora projector, it was just a yardsale trinket. When I had a Sky and Tel in my hand reading about a star cylinder in Arizona I wasnt in quest of HPA, I was looking at telescopes and planning on seeing M42.

Its like I'm exploring a cave and new undiscovered chambers keep opening up, dark at first but filled with wonders if I but shine in a light. Its like everything I do links in.. everything I remember. everything I ever loved or wanted to do keeps popping up

Why do I do it? Its my lifestyle now. I cant NOT do it.

Do Not Fear the Birthing Broth

After spending 3 days with my retired father in Florida, I returned to my farm and drew comparisons. His is a pristine house, after losing mom 7 years ago he has functioned with signature frugality that I admire in so many ways. Returning to my farm (we've both been in the same place 25 years), I noticed a complete difference. Being a boomer, I don't know the meaning of 'frugal'. I have sheds full of stuff, and when they filled up I built lean tos onto lean tos, new sheds rose up .. and filled .. Now its true my father has his garage with an odd mixture of his fishing, hunting, mining (geodes, saphires) gear .. lawn care .. washer/dryer - typical garage fare .. but neatly arranged. Contrast the tiny covered work area I built onto the back of my planetarium - junk is piled in random piles .. and this despite innumerable trips to the landfill, a dozen yardsales .. the problem may be I keep bringing it IN ...

But I've come to call my junk 'the birthing broth' .. for where else can I find exactly the strange part I need to hold up a pyramid, or clamp on a twilight lamp. I gaze in awe at the cast metal fittings on commercial planetariums - I'd have used a coat hanger there, and a hose reel there .. but out of my stuff comes dreams.. they are birthed by ideas that lie in the woodpile so to speak

So whether you live in suburban pristine-ness .. or on an old country estate .. a friend of mine has stuff in airplane hangars .. another in an old tire shop .. or an apartment with a storage cage .. do not fear the birthing broth. Who knows what lurks there, what idea will see light .. today.