1421: The Year China Discovered America

What is the meaning of the word "discovery"?

Regarding the book and documentary about 1421: The Year China Discovered America:

From Columbus' page on Wikipedia:

"His voyage marked the beginning of the European colonization of the Americas."

"While Columbus had always given the conversion of non-believers as one reason for his explorations, he grew increasingly religious in his later years."

Now, according to the 1421 documentary, Zheng He, the admiral that supposedly discovered America in 1421, travelled to bring back culture to China, NOT to colonize the world and NOT to convert non-believers to his own religion.

Here's another link to a Chinese world map, very much mired in controversy:

http://www.stuff.co.nz/stuff/0,2106,3543104a10,00.html

Because of what Columbus did, "colonization" of the world and "discovery" of the world went hand-in-hand. Colonization (the taking over of other lands and its people) was an acceptable thing.

Would Zheng He have redefined the "discovery" of the world to mean "to find other lands and trade with them, understand their culture and ask them to understand ours, and be mutually respectful of each other?"

Or would Zheng He and China have done the same as Columbus and Spain?

I'm very interested to see where this goes, whether the Chinese map was actually made in 1418.

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Related links:
1421: The Year China Discovered America
Wikipedia: Zheng He
Wikipedia: Christopher Columbus

Art, and How to Waste It

This is my opinion. This is my experience. This is my voice.

I was at the Sterling Art store in Irvine, California, browsing through aisles of art supply last weekend, when I stopped in front of a glass case.

I saw my half-silhouette staring back at me, with my sweatshirt and baggy jeans, my uncombed hair, my frumpiness, my shortness, my day-old stooping posture, my face that seems like it was made of clay and various other necessary parts that allowed me to talk and hear and breathe.

My eyes then refocused on the art supplies behind the glass. My focus widened to acknowledge the art supplies within my peripheral field. And then I slowly turned my head to look around the whole store, to see all the art supplies that were around me.

One thought went through my mind and stayed there, and it has stayed there ever since:

I could, literally, go to any part of this store, pick up any tool, and use it to create art. I have this ability.

My eyes focused back on my half-silhouette, and this thought happened, and it has also stayed:

No matter what I do to this face, no matter what I do to this body, I will never be able to make myself so good-looking that it surpasses the beauty that I’ve already created with my mind, my heart, and my hands.

Even if I had all the money in the world to recreate my physical shell, to look like the most perfect human being that ever lived, this physical shell will never surpass the beauty that I’ve already created.

In fact, the most perfect-looking human being that ever lived will never surpass the cumulative beauty in almost any artist's portfolio. The most perfect-looking human being won’t even come close.

Fact: Over my lifetime, I have scrutinized my face and my body more than examined my art.

Fact: I have spent more time and money shopping for clothes and face and body products than I have spent on art supplies and going to cultural events.

Fact: I have spent more time on uninspired things than inspired things.

At any given moment, I have the ability to attempt to create something beautiful. I have the ability to reach out and pluck a fruit from the tree of inspiration and give it to anyone. I have an unlimited supply of this gift from God.

If God asks for a refund one day, I wouldn’t blame Him.

Those Old Men Who Talk Behind Their Cigars

I remember, when I was young, watching foreign movies in which old men who wore old hats sat in wooden chairs, usually with newspapers either in their hands to signify that they were reading the news, or those same newspapers used and folded on the table, to show that they had just read the news. The old men usually sat facing the street, in front of a store or a cafe. Some of these old men smoked cigars, and at least half of them had oily faces and looked as if they hadn’t shaved in a day. They almost always had round bellies and their pants were cinched up high, almost to their chests. I assumed that they all had wives who were at home cooking or at the market, consorting with other wives, these women also with round bellies, and their pants or the waists of their dresses cinched up high.

When I was young, I couldn’t comprehend what these old men were talking about. As I get older, I’m starting to understand.

My friends and I have reached the point where we can see the end of our lives. The distance looking forward is a bit further than the distance looking back, but both are there, nonetheless. There is a certain clarity and definition to be able to look both ways and see what was done, what had to be done, what couldn’t be done, what shouldn’t have been done, and what needs to be done from this point on, regardless of the past.

With this understanding comes a power. At our age now, my friends and I, unlike when we were younger, have the power to change everything. We have the knowledge, the faculties, the income, the associations, and the capacity to do almost anything we want. Now, many of us have as much, if not more, responsibility than our parents, many of whom because of their age and frailty, depend on us as much as we used to depend on them. The choices that we used to entrust to them, they now entrust to us.

With so much power and responsibility, how does one conduct oneself? We are not children anymore, yearning to play until our parents call us inside. We are not teenagers anymore, rebelling against anything worth rebelling against. And neither are we young adults anymore, doing as we please simply because we can. We have been through these years already, and we have done what was expected of us through these years.

So, what do we do now?

In most other countries, there is no choice in the matter. Simple necessity takes over, forcing adults to bear down and work to help support the family. Most other countries do not have a generous credit and welfare system, nor do they have such a high standard of living that allow mistakes to be committed, forgiven, repeated, then forgiven again.

I can imagine these old men in foreign countries, with their round bellies, talking about America and Americans. I can imagine these old men understanding America more than Americans do. I can imagine these old men reading their newspapers, leaning back in their wooden chairs, and talking to each other through the cigar smoke. I can imagine these old men living a very simple, but infinitely more knowledgeable, way of life.

Maybe I will be one of them someday, if I’m lucky. With my round belly and oily face, I already have a head start.

Jazz

There is a justice for every tragedy. There is a redemption for every wrong.

On Thursday night, my friend and I watched Benny Golson play two sets, each about an hour long, at the Jazz Bakery in Culver City. The theater’s capacity was 215 seats but only a bit more than half were taken. A half-filled house to see a legend. Why?

Jazz is the only original American art form. It was born from the unchained hands of children of African slaves. It continues to be played by the great grandchildren of African slaves.

Most jazz music is based on a unifying melody that is then improvised throughout the song. Because of the nature of improvisation, no two performances are ever identical. Because of its continuously changing and syncopated beats, a typical jazz performance cannot be programmed into a computer. It cannot be contained.

Jazz is best performed live, best recorded live, with musicians playing acoustic instruments. It is best appreciated live, in front of a small audience, with just enough amplification to make each instrument audible. Jazz is best when it is not synthesized or reprocessed.

Jazz is well-known and has been respected for decades but remains elusive. It has yet to be packaged as commercial music and played at sporting events, or used to promote consumer products. Unlike pop, rock and country music, jazz has no major corporate sponsors.

So why isn’t jazz more popular? Why hasn’t one jazz great, like Miles or Coltrane or Monk, permeated into our everyday culture like the Beatles or Madonna or the Rolling Stones?

Maybe jazz doesn't want to be more popular. Maybe it knows that in order to be accepted by the largest audience, it also must be the most simplified. Maybe it doesn’t aim to be more easily accepted, and thereby more easily labeled, tagged and categorized.

By remaining pure unto itself, maybe this music that was born from slavery is truly free.

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Benny Golson is playing now through Sunday at The Jazz Bakery. If you're wondering who Benny Golson is, he was the last signature that Tom Hanks' character needed in the movie The Terminal.



"This room may be half full, but you fill us completely with your applause, and we thank you." --Benny Golson, January 12, 2006

How to Skin A Bear

The bear is a straightforward creature, with singular intentions. It wakes up in the morning, knows that it needs to eat, and goes about looking for food. It is a strong animal that can destroy anything in its path, and isn’t reluctant to do so.

Approaching a bear in physical combat, even while holding a knife, is a losing battle, since in sheer strength and brute force it cannot be overcome. The best choice would be never to come into contact with a bear. But if you find yourself face-to-face with a bear, here are some tips for survival:

Wear clothes that do not look or smell like you are bear food. Do not act as if you are bear food. Do not even pretend as if you may or may not be bear food. Do not give the bear any hints. Bears will only eat what they think is food, and will, for the most part, leave you alone if you let them know that you are not.

Speak calmly and intelligently. The bear will wonder why you are not shouting at it or screaming in terror, as is customary when confronting a bear, and this will confuse the bear. Do not panic or be desperate. Bears can smell desperation and it arouses them.

If you have the chance, take the bear out of the forest. Lure the bear out of his environment and into a different landscape, where the bear must adapt and think for himself in terms of what to do next. Go where there are other animals besides bears. Go where there is an infinite sky ruled by eagles, or precarious hillsides ruled by antelope, or an open desert ruled by snakes. Because the bear is so set in his ways and his comfortable environment, it will take him a very long time to adjust to the new surroundings. In some instances, the bear will even hide under a rock, or simply run back into his forest.

If the bear is still following you, it will probably not be as confident as it once was. This would be the time to take out a book and read to the bear. Books do not smell like food and have no place in a bear’s existence. The bear will wonder why you are carrying a book instead of a knife to skin it. Because the bear has never encountered this moment, it will not know what to do next. In many cases, the bear will simply lay down to rest, and wait for something new to happen.

At this point, you must make a decision whether to continue reading to the bear, or take out the knife that you have hidden, and skin it.