MY LATEST BOOK!
Click HERE for the Video Introduction to my new Book:
Reflections on Water: How Thoreau's Walden Pond Mixed with the Ganges and Yoga Came to America with Swami Vivekananda
PETER MALAKOFF BOOKS
A SITE FOR THE BOOKS I WRITE
Beginnings
According to my mother my very first words were "Read. Read. Go. Go." All my life I wanted to hear stories. I read a tremendous amount as a young man. Reading opened up worlds to me far beyond what I could hope to experience in one lifetime, and I was trying to experience a lot. I am so grateful I could benefit from the lives, experiences, successes, failures, mistakes and ideas of others through their stories and books.
Now that I have 'come of age' and turned 60, the beginning of maturity in many cultures, the time has come for me to pay it forward. It's time to tell my own stories, to retell the stories I have heard, and because of my great amount of mistakes, to teach and write about what I have experienced. In the Indian Tradition they say that the bird of wisdom has two wings. One is the wing of experience. To truly know something you must experience it for yourself, but this is only one wing. With one wing a bird only goes in circles on the ground. There is a second wing needed to fly - the wing of understanding and story. This is what I want to share by writing, so my small cup of experience will not go to waste for others. After all, If I found a road that went nowhere, why not let others know about it? and, if I found a road that went somewhere and traveled it, should I not share that as well. And, if I made a mistake, which I have made many, should I not share the early warning signs of that disease by sharing those as well? I feel not only a desire to do this but also an obligation, one that I delight in performing, although sometimes it seems a burden when I realize I could write for many years and still have more stories that need to be told. But such a burden is one that I am happy to carry.
I have written poetry, short stories, a novel, erotica, children's books, magazine articles, letters, papers and songs. Some of the stories are put to music with sound effects. I made a documentary film on the great Indian Saint, Kabir. All of these can be seen on my personal WEBSITE. This site is just for the books that I have written and am planning to write.
Because I have written a book does not mean the story is finished. There is much to further comment on and consider. There is the prequel to the book and its sequel. Sometimes within the stories of a book lie other stories, like varied colored strings of yarn one unravels from a cloth. I could even tell the story of the writing of a book and all that crossed my path in that process. There are always signs, omens, people and events full of meaning. To write a book is only a beginning. It is a place where seeds are planted. Perhaps a great tree may someday grow from one of them and offer readers the shade of understanding from the blinding sun of their own experience, fruits for pleasure and more seeds for the future.
In all of this I have a fundamental desire: may these stories bring more light into the world; may all beings be happy.
Now, let me tell you a story.
Wherever you come across a Green bold word in the text it means that you can click it and be taken to a place that expands its meaning.
Now that I have 'come of age' and turned 60, the beginning of maturity in many cultures, the time has come for me to pay it forward. It's time to tell my own stories, to retell the stories I have heard, and because of my great amount of mistakes, to teach and write about what I have experienced. In the Indian Tradition they say that the bird of wisdom has two wings. One is the wing of experience. To truly know something you must experience it for yourself, but this is only one wing. With one wing a bird only goes in circles on the ground. There is a second wing needed to fly - the wing of understanding and story. This is what I want to share by writing, so my small cup of experience will not go to waste for others. After all, If I found a road that went nowhere, why not let others know about it? and, if I found a road that went somewhere and traveled it, should I not share that as well. And, if I made a mistake, which I have made many, should I not share the early warning signs of that disease by sharing those as well? I feel not only a desire to do this but also an obligation, one that I delight in performing, although sometimes it seems a burden when I realize I could write for many years and still have more stories that need to be told. But such a burden is one that I am happy to carry.
I have written poetry, short stories, a novel, erotica, children's books, magazine articles, letters, papers and songs. Some of the stories are put to music with sound effects. I made a documentary film on the great Indian Saint, Kabir. All of these can be seen on my personal WEBSITE. This site is just for the books that I have written and am planning to write.
Because I have written a book does not mean the story is finished. There is much to further comment on and consider. There is the prequel to the book and its sequel. Sometimes within the stories of a book lie other stories, like varied colored strings of yarn one unravels from a cloth. I could even tell the story of the writing of a book and all that crossed my path in that process. There are always signs, omens, people and events full of meaning. To write a book is only a beginning. It is a place where seeds are planted. Perhaps a great tree may someday grow from one of them and offer readers the shade of understanding from the blinding sun of their own experience, fruits for pleasure and more seeds for the future.
In all of this I have a fundamental desire: may these stories bring more light into the world; may all beings be happy.
Now, let me tell you a story.
Wherever you come across a Green bold word in the text it means that you can click it and be taken to a place that expands its meaning.
Where I am at
I am standing on a path on the holy mountain Arunachala, in Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu, South India. The path goes up to a cave called Skandashram, which was the home of Ramana Maharshi, one of the greatest Sages of modern India. He spent nearly all his life on or about this mountain during the first half of the last century.
Nearly every morning, I wake around 4:30 and walk from my house to the back gate of Ramana Ashram, past the houses and huts of poor people, which line a small alley along the back of the ashram, threaded by a narrow path. Cows are tied outside the houses. Girls fetch water from a central tank, and at nearly every house some woman is bent over at the waist, drawing a beautiful kolam, a colored chalk mandala on the ground, invoking the blessings of the Gods. Women splash water from buckets on the ground and then sweep the earth in front of their house with brooms made of reeds. Short-haired dogs roam around and small children walk naked outside in the warm air. Some of the houses have music playing, usually devotional, and often there are ghee lamps lit outside the doors of the dwellings, their soft light suggesting the invocation of mysterious blessings. Eventually, my walk brings me to the path to the cave, which begins at the back gate of Ramana Ashram, directly at the foot of the mountain.
As I begin to walk up the stone path, the quiet deepens in the early morning. Nature, trees and air are clean and fresh, scented with the smell of herbs carried by soft breezes that descend the mountain every morning. As I walk, I remember that Ramana Maharshi and my own Guru and Teacher, Adi Da Samraj, also walked here. I think of the huge cave that is said to exist inside the mountain, where ancient Rishis and sages still meditate. Ringing with stillness, the mountain is a sacred hill of blessing, a living incarnation of Lord Shiva and for me a very good place to be.
WHAT I DO HERE
I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma.
In the afternoon I put it back again. - Oscar Wilde
Although I never spent a whole day on a comma, I understand what Oscar Wilde is talking about. I came to India because I could not afford to live anymore in America and I wanted more time to write. To create a good story one needs time to craft it. A story never comes out perfect on the first draft - at least that is my experience. Writing a story is much like carving a statue out of a block of marble. Once the idea or vision of the story has come, then you have to remove what is not needed. After the vision of what you want to create, the hard work begins.
The India I live in is a third world country, where life moves slowly, structured around the cycles of the moon and religious celebrations. It is an inexpensive place; I do not have to work most of the day just to keep my head above obligations that were threatening to drown me in the West. There is time and plenty of it. Hours in the afternoons and mornings spread out like a long, deserted beach with possibilities extending to the horizon. There is time for work and creativity and time for relaxation as well. There is time to walk up the holy mountain in the morning, and to listen to the Vedas being chanted in the evening. There is time for friends and lots of reading. And too, there is time for frustration, when the power goes off for hours at a time in the hot season, and my constitution (particularly heat sensitive) mutinies at living another day in South India. (This is why I now live in the Himalayas during the hot season– March-November)
It is said that the dominant theme of a culture can be told from the tallest building you see when you come into town. The tallest building in Tiruvannamalai is a huge and ancient temple. The culture here is very different from any city in the West. This small town exists in the shadow of a religious culture. Life revolves around the dominant themes of worship and realization. I came to India to bathe in this culture. Here it is embodied in a thousand year old temple dedicated to a God who is still remembered.
I created a Blog recently: INDIA IS MY WALDEN POND. It has my writings and stories on different topics since I have come to India. The theme of Walden is appropriate. Like Thoreau I too have retired to a place removed from the 'modern world.' I came here much like he went to Walden Pond. He wanted to step outside the hustle and bustle of business and commerce of 19th century New England life. He wanted more out of life, so do I. I came to India to drink more deeply, digest what I have already eaten, and prepare a meal to leave behind for others. I came here to create something I could pass on. I want to leave cairns upon the path. Let me explain what I mean:
CAIRNS
Many years ago, I climbed Mount Washington in New Hampshire. The Appalachian Trail crosses the summit of the mountain at nearly 7000 feet. Above the tree line we encountered heavy fog and clouds as we hiked amongst huge fields of rocks and clambered over scree and boulders. The fog and clouds blocked out everything more than ten yards away. No trail was discernible. We were lost if it were not for the cairns, piles of rocks left by earlier travelers to mark the path. Without the work someone else had done on that wild rocky slope. If not for the cairns, we would have spent a very uncomfortable night, exposed to the elements on the mountain.
I want to leave cairns. I want to leave piles of stories and books, full of questions and considerations told in a variety of ways. I want to mark the path I have traveled so that others can find their way when one is up above tree line and the clouds close in, the day is darkening and the winds of problems blow strong; when the trail is lost and they are not sure which way to go.
I write, even if someone wants to go their own way in spite of what is indicated, at least they need not go all the way down to the far, bitter end of a wrong path. They need not waste their whole life traveling towards a dead end. Someone who has been there before them says, "I have been here." and they describe the signs and what lies down this valley or up that pass. Up on the mountain, a traveler can look around and if there are no cairns, they are on their own. It becomes quickly clear that things can become far worse. If I tell of my own passage and mistakes, perhaps I can be of help and others can see more clearly and figure out better where they are.
Nearly every morning, I wake around 4:30 and walk from my house to the back gate of Ramana Ashram, past the houses and huts of poor people, which line a small alley along the back of the ashram, threaded by a narrow path. Cows are tied outside the houses. Girls fetch water from a central tank, and at nearly every house some woman is bent over at the waist, drawing a beautiful kolam, a colored chalk mandala on the ground, invoking the blessings of the Gods. Women splash water from buckets on the ground and then sweep the earth in front of their house with brooms made of reeds. Short-haired dogs roam around and small children walk naked outside in the warm air. Some of the houses have music playing, usually devotional, and often there are ghee lamps lit outside the doors of the dwellings, their soft light suggesting the invocation of mysterious blessings. Eventually, my walk brings me to the path to the cave, which begins at the back gate of Ramana Ashram, directly at the foot of the mountain.
As I begin to walk up the stone path, the quiet deepens in the early morning. Nature, trees and air are clean and fresh, scented with the smell of herbs carried by soft breezes that descend the mountain every morning. As I walk, I remember that Ramana Maharshi and my own Guru and Teacher, Adi Da Samraj, also walked here. I think of the huge cave that is said to exist inside the mountain, where ancient Rishis and sages still meditate. Ringing with stillness, the mountain is a sacred hill of blessing, a living incarnation of Lord Shiva and for me a very good place to be.
WHAT I DO HERE
I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma.
In the afternoon I put it back again. - Oscar Wilde
Although I never spent a whole day on a comma, I understand what Oscar Wilde is talking about. I came to India because I could not afford to live anymore in America and I wanted more time to write. To create a good story one needs time to craft it. A story never comes out perfect on the first draft - at least that is my experience. Writing a story is much like carving a statue out of a block of marble. Once the idea or vision of the story has come, then you have to remove what is not needed. After the vision of what you want to create, the hard work begins.
The India I live in is a third world country, where life moves slowly, structured around the cycles of the moon and religious celebrations. It is an inexpensive place; I do not have to work most of the day just to keep my head above obligations that were threatening to drown me in the West. There is time and plenty of it. Hours in the afternoons and mornings spread out like a long, deserted beach with possibilities extending to the horizon. There is time for work and creativity and time for relaxation as well. There is time to walk up the holy mountain in the morning, and to listen to the Vedas being chanted in the evening. There is time for friends and lots of reading. And too, there is time for frustration, when the power goes off for hours at a time in the hot season, and my constitution (particularly heat sensitive) mutinies at living another day in South India. (This is why I now live in the Himalayas during the hot season– March-November)
It is said that the dominant theme of a culture can be told from the tallest building you see when you come into town. The tallest building in Tiruvannamalai is a huge and ancient temple. The culture here is very different from any city in the West. This small town exists in the shadow of a religious culture. Life revolves around the dominant themes of worship and realization. I came to India to bathe in this culture. Here it is embodied in a thousand year old temple dedicated to a God who is still remembered.
I created a Blog recently: INDIA IS MY WALDEN POND. It has my writings and stories on different topics since I have come to India. The theme of Walden is appropriate. Like Thoreau I too have retired to a place removed from the 'modern world.' I came here much like he went to Walden Pond. He wanted to step outside the hustle and bustle of business and commerce of 19th century New England life. He wanted more out of life, so do I. I came to India to drink more deeply, digest what I have already eaten, and prepare a meal to leave behind for others. I came here to create something I could pass on. I want to leave cairns upon the path. Let me explain what I mean:
CAIRNS
Many years ago, I climbed Mount Washington in New Hampshire. The Appalachian Trail crosses the summit of the mountain at nearly 7000 feet. Above the tree line we encountered heavy fog and clouds as we hiked amongst huge fields of rocks and clambered over scree and boulders. The fog and clouds blocked out everything more than ten yards away. No trail was discernible. We were lost if it were not for the cairns, piles of rocks left by earlier travelers to mark the path. Without the work someone else had done on that wild rocky slope. If not for the cairns, we would have spent a very uncomfortable night, exposed to the elements on the mountain.
I want to leave cairns. I want to leave piles of stories and books, full of questions and considerations told in a variety of ways. I want to mark the path I have traveled so that others can find their way when one is up above tree line and the clouds close in, the day is darkening and the winds of problems blow strong; when the trail is lost and they are not sure which way to go.
I write, even if someone wants to go their own way in spite of what is indicated, at least they need not go all the way down to the far, bitter end of a wrong path. They need not waste their whole life traveling towards a dead end. Someone who has been there before them says, "I have been here." and they describe the signs and what lies down this valley or up that pass. Up on the mountain, a traveler can look around and if there are no cairns, they are on their own. It becomes quickly clear that things can become far worse. If I tell of my own passage and mistakes, perhaps I can be of help and others can see more clearly and figure out better where they are.
WHERE I CREATED MY FIRST THREE BOOKS
This is the view from my small cottage, looking up at year-round, snow-covered mountains at the head of the Manalsu River Valley. I live in South India only during the winter months. Otherwise it is too hot for me and I cannot write. Therefore I travel, by train and by bus to my spring-summer-fall home located in Himachal Pradesh, the north Indian state that presses up against the Himalayas, just over a mountain pass from Ladakh. The small valley in this picture goes up to a bowl of snow in the higher peaks. The water that flows in the valley, the Manalsu River, is clear and cold, frothing as it spills over rocks and rounded boulders. Day and night I hear it rushing through the valley, spilling its way down to the Beas River (formerly pronounced Vyas River after the great Veda Vyasa), where it pours into that larger river, also strewn with large boulders. The Beas runs down the Kullu Valley. The headwaters of the Beas lay at the Rohtang Pass, the year-round 14,000ft snow-covered pass to Ladakh. This area of the Kullu Valley and the Manalsu, used to be called, Kulanth Peet, 'the end of the habitable world.' When you went up into Ladakh, the geography, people and religion are dramatically different. The people are Buddhist, not Hindu and their faces are round and Tibetan, not what I recognize as Hindu-Indians from the plains. I share this small valley with the indigenous Kullu people, some of the most beautiful, healthy and happy people I have ever known.
My cottage is at an elevation about as high as Mount Washington (7500ft). From my porch I look up at snow-covered peaks in three directions. It is quiet and remote and accessible only by walking. My cottage has a single room with a kitchen and wood stove for heating. Amazingly, I also have high-speed internet, certainly this is the first generation to have access to the wider world in this area for generations. The rushing waters of the snow-melt river in the valley below whisper constant mantras of delight. There are apple and apricot orchards at the lower elevations and Deodar forests of cathedral-like beauty. At night, stars crowd the sky and a deep silence hushes the land, bursting forth with birdsong in the mornings. No planes jet their way across the sky. I like to think that this is where Thoreau would have settled.
This is the place where the boat of Manu, who was the progenitor of mankind and the archetype on which the later story of Noah was patterned, came to rest after the great flood that destroyed the world. Here, Manu and the seven, heaven-born Rishis stepped off their boat into Paradise which is now called, like many others in the Himalayas, the Dev Bhumi, the 'Valley of the Gods.' You can read my story about it HERE.
There is at least one story about everything in India, and usually many more. Stories have been told in India for longer than any other place on earth. It is story that makes something come alive, sometimes even more than a picture. Still, pictures are good and you can enjoy a photo album I made of this area HERE.
My cottage is at an elevation about as high as Mount Washington (7500ft). From my porch I look up at snow-covered peaks in three directions. It is quiet and remote and accessible only by walking. My cottage has a single room with a kitchen and wood stove for heating. Amazingly, I also have high-speed internet, certainly this is the first generation to have access to the wider world in this area for generations. The rushing waters of the snow-melt river in the valley below whisper constant mantras of delight. There are apple and apricot orchards at the lower elevations and Deodar forests of cathedral-like beauty. At night, stars crowd the sky and a deep silence hushes the land, bursting forth with birdsong in the mornings. No planes jet their way across the sky. I like to think that this is where Thoreau would have settled.
This is the place where the boat of Manu, who was the progenitor of mankind and the archetype on which the later story of Noah was patterned, came to rest after the great flood that destroyed the world. Here, Manu and the seven, heaven-born Rishis stepped off their boat into Paradise which is now called, like many others in the Himalayas, the Dev Bhumi, the 'Valley of the Gods.' You can read my story about it HERE.
There is at least one story about everything in India, and usually many more. Stories have been told in India for longer than any other place on earth. It is story that makes something come alive, sometimes even more than a picture. Still, pictures are good and you can enjoy a photo album I made of this area HERE.
BOOKS
My first books
A Hanuman Story for Ram Dass - My First Book
Several years ago I met Ram Dass at a small gathering in the San Francisco area and told him this story. He said that he had never heard it told this way before and I promised to send it to him. This book is the fulfillment of that promise.
I originally created an AUDIO VERSION of the story. The book is the printed version of that effort. For illustrations I used Indian Miniature Paintings from the vast amount of art that surrounds the Ramayana, including Indian miniatures from the Mughals, Indian Devotional Art and old Poster Art from India.
A Hanuman Story for Ram Dass is a story from the Ramayana, the spiritual epic of India. It tells the tale of Lord Rama, the abduction of his wife Sita by the demon king Ravana and the great adventure of winning her back, where Rama is helped by a monkey army, foremost of whom is Hanuman.
Although the Ramayana is literally the 'Story of Lord Rama,' what many people remember most about it is the character of Hanuman. In the various versions of the Ramayana, from North to South India, from Valmiki to Tulsidas, stories and images of Hanuman abound. He presents the ideal of how to relate to God. Hanuman is the greatest of all the devotees of Rama. Yet, he is also a Monkey. We find in him the extremes of a wild, simple, exceptionally strong, jungle animal and a great Bhakti, or lover of God. These disparate qualities have made Hanuman attractive to children and adults for thousands of years, and these qualities are wonderfully dramatized in this story.
Taken from the oral tradition of India, this particular story has not been written down before. It is a very small part of Hanuman's adventures in the Ramayana and present a consideration of the nature of life and reincarnation. It is a wonderful story for children as well as adults, and has a glossary at the back of the book for names and terms the reader may not understand.
Click on the book cover for a link that will allow you to see and read the complete book, online with pictures. You can also purchase it from the publisher at that site.
The first three books you see here are self-published. Self-publishing was an excellent way to get into print, even though the books are rather expensive. I was so filled with a desire to 'make a book,' that I went ahead and created them. I thought that if I began to publish a book, it would lead to something more. Just creating the book would be like laying a foundation for a dream to come true. In the near future, each of these books will be produced less expensively, and marketed more widely and many more readers can enjoy them. I hope to do so in an enhanced format such as that offered by Apple iBooksauthor which will allow me to include audio versions with narration, music, sound effects and video.
I originally created an AUDIO VERSION of the story. The book is the printed version of that effort. For illustrations I used Indian Miniature Paintings from the vast amount of art that surrounds the Ramayana, including Indian miniatures from the Mughals, Indian Devotional Art and old Poster Art from India.
A Hanuman Story for Ram Dass is a story from the Ramayana, the spiritual epic of India. It tells the tale of Lord Rama, the abduction of his wife Sita by the demon king Ravana and the great adventure of winning her back, where Rama is helped by a monkey army, foremost of whom is Hanuman.
Although the Ramayana is literally the 'Story of Lord Rama,' what many people remember most about it is the character of Hanuman. In the various versions of the Ramayana, from North to South India, from Valmiki to Tulsidas, stories and images of Hanuman abound. He presents the ideal of how to relate to God. Hanuman is the greatest of all the devotees of Rama. Yet, he is also a Monkey. We find in him the extremes of a wild, simple, exceptionally strong, jungle animal and a great Bhakti, or lover of God. These disparate qualities have made Hanuman attractive to children and adults for thousands of years, and these qualities are wonderfully dramatized in this story.
Taken from the oral tradition of India, this particular story has not been written down before. It is a very small part of Hanuman's adventures in the Ramayana and present a consideration of the nature of life and reincarnation. It is a wonderful story for children as well as adults, and has a glossary at the back of the book for names and terms the reader may not understand.
Click on the book cover for a link that will allow you to see and read the complete book, online with pictures. You can also purchase it from the publisher at that site.
The first three books you see here are self-published. Self-publishing was an excellent way to get into print, even though the books are rather expensive. I was so filled with a desire to 'make a book,' that I went ahead and created them. I thought that if I began to publish a book, it would lead to something more. Just creating the book would be like laying a foundation for a dream to come true. In the near future, each of these books will be produced less expensively, and marketed more widely and many more readers can enjoy them. I hope to do so in an enhanced format such as that offered by Apple iBooksauthor which will allow me to include audio versions with narration, music, sound effects and video.
The Cure of the Mustard Seed - A True Story from the Buddhist Tradition
This life disappears very quickly. Like something written on water with a stick.
– Buddha
This is a book on death, dying and the loss of all and everything.
One day a young woman came into the gathering of monks sitting around the Buddha. She was weeping and wailing, carrying her dead child in her arms. She asked the Buddha to cure her child and bring him back to life. He told her to bring him some mustard seed from a house in her village in which no one had died.
This is a true story from the Pali Canon, offering the teachings of the buddha on death and loss. It is an excellent story for children or anyone else who has lost someone and finds the loss hard to accept.
It is a profound story and full of wisdom.
This book will come out soon on Amazon and in a Kindle version.
– Buddha
This is a book on death, dying and the loss of all and everything.
One day a young woman came into the gathering of monks sitting around the Buddha. She was weeping and wailing, carrying her dead child in her arms. She asked the Buddha to cure her child and bring him back to life. He told her to bring him some mustard seed from a house in her village in which no one had died.
This is a true story from the Pali Canon, offering the teachings of the buddha on death and loss. It is an excellent story for children or anyone else who has lost someone and finds the loss hard to accept.
It is a profound story and full of wisdom.
This book will come out soon on Amazon and in a Kindle version.
Click for the Audio Version of The Cure of the Mustard Seed: AUDIO
The Man Who Created the Taj Mahal
'Who designed the Taj Mahal?' It is still debated to this day. This is a story from the oral tradition of India regarding 'Who did it? Filled with subtle and intriguing drama, it explores the qualities of heart and mind that gave birth to one of the most beautiful buildings on earth, the Taj Mahal.
Weaving a story within another story, it begins with an extraordinary man who could craft a woman's complete form in stone from seeing only her hands. Presented before Shah Jehan, he boldy claimed to be able to perform this feat of intuition and skill, offering his life as payment if he could not repeat it with any woman in the Shah's court. "Let me be killed if I cannot produce the image of any woman in stone, even if I have only seen her hands." Thus begins the story of the man who created the Taj Mahal.
Click on the book cover for a link that will allow you to see and read the complete book, online with pictures. You can also purchase it from the publisher at that site.
Click for the Audio Version of The Man Who Created the Taj Mahal: AUDIO
Weaving a story within another story, it begins with an extraordinary man who could craft a woman's complete form in stone from seeing only her hands. Presented before Shah Jehan, he boldy claimed to be able to perform this feat of intuition and skill, offering his life as payment if he could not repeat it with any woman in the Shah's court. "Let me be killed if I cannot produce the image of any woman in stone, even if I have only seen her hands." Thus begins the story of the man who created the Taj Mahal.
Click on the book cover for a link that will allow you to see and read the complete book, online with pictures. You can also purchase it from the publisher at that site.
Click for the Audio Version of The Man Who Created the Taj Mahal: AUDIO
A Thousand and One Arabian Nights
The Story of Scherazade
http://www.blurb.com/b/6558216-a-thousand-and-one-arabian-nightsTHIS BOOK IS STILL IN PROCESS. I UPLOADED A PORTION OF IT TO OFFER A SMALL TASTE OF WHAT IT WILL BE.
I AM DESIGNING THE BACKGROUND OF EACH PAGE OF THE BOOK USING DETAILS FROM ISLAMIC ARCHITECTURE.
Click HERE for a link that will allow you to see and read some of the book, online with wonderful Orientalist pictures.
Click for the Audio Version:
A Thousand and One Arabian Nights: AUDIO
Click for the MOVIE – YouTube version (nearly 5 million hits to date:
A Thousand and One Arabian Nights: MOVIE
Very few people in the west know this story. Perhaps they have some dim memory of Aladdin’s lamp, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves or Sinbad the Sailor. But those are only a few of the tales told over the thousand and one Arabian nights and they are taken out of a very meaningful context. This is the story behind the stories that were told by Scherazade to the Sultan-King Sharyar. It goes like this:
Once upon a time an Arabian Sultan had been deeply hurt by the infidelity of one of the women from his harem, and in that hurt felt betrayed by all of them. From then on, after making love to a woman from his harem, he would have her killed. One after another, the women from the harem were called in to make love to the sultan and none of them ever returned. Then it was the turn of Scherazade . . .
Scherazade told the Sultan a story, a story that went on for almost three years, for a thousand and one Arabian nights. Her story demonstrates the power of the feminine in the midst of a male-dominated society. It offers insight into the wounded heart of a man and how that wound is made livable. It reveals the truth of desire and what the heart is really seeking. Her story looks at the limits of sex and what can be sought and attained in sexuality and what cannot. Scherazade reveals a unique understanding of the play between man and woman.
While the women of the harem sought to please the Sultan's body, mind and senses with their beauty, enthusiasm and charms, Scherazade tried something different. After seeing her sisters attempt to please the Sultan with sensuality and subsequently be killed, Scherazade engaged not just the Sultan's body and senses, but his feeling heart and imagination as well. She told him a story.
The story is told with images taken from the rich trove of Orientalist paintings of the late 1800's. The Orientalists painted at a time when the camera was just beginning to be used. These painters provided the 'photographs' of this exotic world to the West, and their attention to detail is extraordinary. Their painted gifts are filled with the fantasy and romance of the European dream of that Middle Eastern world.
Ever since I was a boy I have been intrigued with the world of the East as shown by the Orientalists – a vision of virile, vital men, slaves and concubines, of life filled with sensuality, eroticism, extraordinary gifts and terrible cruelty. That world represented something I recognized but had no experience of in my own life, growing up in a middle class Jewish household of idealistic humanitarians in the America of the 1950's. The Orientalists showed me a world that, whether true or not, is both foreign and exotic, abhorrent and fascinating. As Carl Jung might have said, they showed me the world of my shadow, and I thrilled to it.
Most of the paintings of the Orientalists come without a story. Usually a picture has a name or a few remarks, as well as the name of the artist who painted it and what year it was painted. For the most part their art exists only as a collection of images. In this story I have put together many of the painted pictures from the period and molded them into a coherent whole. In this way I find they give support to the visual narrative of the tale, and in turn the tale gives life to their imagery.
I hope to find a publisher for this book so that it can be produced much less expensively and many more can enjoy it. I need to purchase the
hi-resolution pictures of the art so it can be made into a full size coffee table book. Right now, everybody who sees it says, "Wow!."
I AM DESIGNING THE BACKGROUND OF EACH PAGE OF THE BOOK USING DETAILS FROM ISLAMIC ARCHITECTURE.
Click HERE for a link that will allow you to see and read some of the book, online with wonderful Orientalist pictures.
Click for the Audio Version:
A Thousand and One Arabian Nights: AUDIO
Click for the MOVIE – YouTube version (nearly 5 million hits to date:
A Thousand and One Arabian Nights: MOVIE
Very few people in the west know this story. Perhaps they have some dim memory of Aladdin’s lamp, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves or Sinbad the Sailor. But those are only a few of the tales told over the thousand and one Arabian nights and they are taken out of a very meaningful context. This is the story behind the stories that were told by Scherazade to the Sultan-King Sharyar. It goes like this:
Once upon a time an Arabian Sultan had been deeply hurt by the infidelity of one of the women from his harem, and in that hurt felt betrayed by all of them. From then on, after making love to a woman from his harem, he would have her killed. One after another, the women from the harem were called in to make love to the sultan and none of them ever returned. Then it was the turn of Scherazade . . .
Scherazade told the Sultan a story, a story that went on for almost three years, for a thousand and one Arabian nights. Her story demonstrates the power of the feminine in the midst of a male-dominated society. It offers insight into the wounded heart of a man and how that wound is made livable. It reveals the truth of desire and what the heart is really seeking. Her story looks at the limits of sex and what can be sought and attained in sexuality and what cannot. Scherazade reveals a unique understanding of the play between man and woman.
While the women of the harem sought to please the Sultan's body, mind and senses with their beauty, enthusiasm and charms, Scherazade tried something different. After seeing her sisters attempt to please the Sultan with sensuality and subsequently be killed, Scherazade engaged not just the Sultan's body and senses, but his feeling heart and imagination as well. She told him a story.
The story is told with images taken from the rich trove of Orientalist paintings of the late 1800's. The Orientalists painted at a time when the camera was just beginning to be used. These painters provided the 'photographs' of this exotic world to the West, and their attention to detail is extraordinary. Their painted gifts are filled with the fantasy and romance of the European dream of that Middle Eastern world.
Ever since I was a boy I have been intrigued with the world of the East as shown by the Orientalists – a vision of virile, vital men, slaves and concubines, of life filled with sensuality, eroticism, extraordinary gifts and terrible cruelty. That world represented something I recognized but had no experience of in my own life, growing up in a middle class Jewish household of idealistic humanitarians in the America of the 1950's. The Orientalists showed me a world that, whether true or not, is both foreign and exotic, abhorrent and fascinating. As Carl Jung might have said, they showed me the world of my shadow, and I thrilled to it.
Most of the paintings of the Orientalists come without a story. Usually a picture has a name or a few remarks, as well as the name of the artist who painted it and what year it was painted. For the most part their art exists only as a collection of images. In this story I have put together many of the painted pictures from the period and molded them into a coherent whole. In this way I find they give support to the visual narrative of the tale, and in turn the tale gives life to their imagery.
I hope to find a publisher for this book so that it can be produced much less expensively and many more can enjoy it. I need to purchase the
hi-resolution pictures of the art so it can be made into a full size coffee table book. Right now, everybody who sees it says, "Wow!."
What Next?
There is a saying in the Jewish Tradition: "If you want make God laugh, tell Him your plans." I always liked hearing God laugh, so here are my plans:
Stories cry out to me, wanting to be told. Many of them are for children. Tales like Going to Town, The Mad Elephant or The Three Non-Existent Princes. All of these are not yet published in book form.
If you took the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita and Aesop's Fables and mixed them up in a hearty soup, spiced it with the essence of fairy tale, and took a spoon of singing soul to taste it with, that would be the poem I have been writing for years. Listen to it here, it is called the Felly Frog. This piece is not yet published in book form.
It is a modern-day epic, written and sung in rhythmic, musical jive. It tells the story of a frog who wanders through the deep forests of life. He encounters difficult challenges and wonderful teachers through the many characters and situations he meets. Some we will recognize and some are pure fantasy, but each and every one presents an archetype and a principle. De Felly gains wisdom from everyone. Even so, he eventually finds himself at dead ends, not sure what to do in critical moments - as the knowledge and principles he has learned so far, all lead to dilemma, a choice between equally un-doable alternatives. At this point, he meets the Maha Mama Mukhi and the Papa Ou Mau Mau, Papa Ou for short, who bring him the Transcendental Wisdom of life. This is a story for all ages, to be enjoyed by children, adolescents and adults.
There is a story from my own life in the late 60's when I was hopping the freight trains out of Chicago: Train out of Cicero.
I used to hop the freight trains all around the United States, and one day in the late fall, as winter was coming and the nights were cold, I caught a train out of the Cicero yards in Chicago, bound for Denver and the West coast. On that empty boxcar I ran into an angry man who taught me a lesson on how to deal with aggression and violence. This story has been put to music. It begins in a freight yard and ends in a jungle in India with a story from Ramakrishna, joining together the world of the Blues and Vedic Culture. This piece is not yet published in book form.
The Jubilee, the nearly forgotten Sabbath practice, is an amazing idea and principle: Demanded by God in the Old Testament; clearly laid out in several books of the Bible; identified with by Jesus, who said that he was the living incarnation of it; prominently placed in the Lord's Prayer and inscribed on the Liberty Bell of the United States. The Jubilee is a religious practice centered around the forgiveness of debt. It is an idea whose time has come again. One way or the other, whether debts are forgiven or just not paid, there will be a Jubilee in our world.
Because they did not practice the Jubilee, because they did not forgive their debts or set their slaves free, the Jews were driven into exile by Yahveh to Babylon and Egypt. This ancient practice, adopted in one form or another by many cultures throughout history, will help set the world free from the inevitable iniquities of the Capitalist system. When I first discovered it I felt like a person who had found a great treasure. If I did not share it with the world, I would not make my parents proud. This piece is not yet published in book form.
Mistakes and Cybernetics and how to steer one's path through life. On July 4, 1976, I had dinner with Buckminster Fuller. Right before dinner he said, "A drunk makes less mistakes than a sober man." I replied, "Bucky, I would not want to be in a boat or a plane with a drunk at the helm." He then replied, "Unless you make a mistake, you will not correct the course." That hidden truth of the necessity of mistakes, like a wonderful joke, is what led me to this subject. This piece is not yet published in book form.
True Wealth is not Threatened, a consideration of the recent financial crisis from the point of view of a religious-studies scholar. The main point: We are having a financial crisis, not an economic one. Over the last few years nothing has changed in our 'economics' - our ability to provide food, shelter, clothing, transportation and medical care has increased. In fact, except for the degradation of our environment by irresponsible use, the beneficial aspects of technology and the corresponding ability to accomplish so much more, using less and less material and energy, has now, for the first time in history, given us the ability to provide for every man, woman and child on earth a lifestyle equal to the kings of old. Obviously, however, almost none of this is happening.
The True Wealth of our World is not threatened by the financial crisis, unless we confuse money and finance with our economy. When we think, 'even if there is enough food, a person also has to have something called money to pay for it,' we have linked the economy and finance together. If we think our living is based on money, then, yes, there is a terrible crisis in the world. But this is a mistake and is not necessary. We have confused economy with the world of finance. In truth, we are having a financial meltdown, not an economic one. The roots of our confusion are, for the most part, unexamined and unconscious. In this story I try to throw light to the situation. It seems like a pretty important point to make. This piece is not yet published in book form.
The Loss of Tragedy and the Rise of New Age Thinking One of the basic tenets of New Age thinking is "Whatever you envision, whatever you think, will become Reality." I believe this to be a false tenet, born of a culture intoxicated with its ability to control things through science and technology. We have lost the ancient sense of life, that life is tragic and that we are driven by forces outside of our control. When we make this error, we have lost our faith in God and respect for the Devil, both of whom represent forces beyond the control of man. Instead, we have come to think that one day we will be able to control everything. With our vision of life no longer inclusive of what is ultimately out of our control, we have given birth to the shallow philosophy of New Age thinking. This piece is not yet published in book form.
These are but a few ideas that come to me. I have a list of nearly 300 more that need to be told and the list is growing.
I can hear the laughter now. . .
Stories cry out to me, wanting to be told. Many of them are for children. Tales like Going to Town, The Mad Elephant or The Three Non-Existent Princes. All of these are not yet published in book form.
If you took the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita and Aesop's Fables and mixed them up in a hearty soup, spiced it with the essence of fairy tale, and took a spoon of singing soul to taste it with, that would be the poem I have been writing for years. Listen to it here, it is called the Felly Frog. This piece is not yet published in book form.
It is a modern-day epic, written and sung in rhythmic, musical jive. It tells the story of a frog who wanders through the deep forests of life. He encounters difficult challenges and wonderful teachers through the many characters and situations he meets. Some we will recognize and some are pure fantasy, but each and every one presents an archetype and a principle. De Felly gains wisdom from everyone. Even so, he eventually finds himself at dead ends, not sure what to do in critical moments - as the knowledge and principles he has learned so far, all lead to dilemma, a choice between equally un-doable alternatives. At this point, he meets the Maha Mama Mukhi and the Papa Ou Mau Mau, Papa Ou for short, who bring him the Transcendental Wisdom of life. This is a story for all ages, to be enjoyed by children, adolescents and adults.
There is a story from my own life in the late 60's when I was hopping the freight trains out of Chicago: Train out of Cicero.
I used to hop the freight trains all around the United States, and one day in the late fall, as winter was coming and the nights were cold, I caught a train out of the Cicero yards in Chicago, bound for Denver and the West coast. On that empty boxcar I ran into an angry man who taught me a lesson on how to deal with aggression and violence. This story has been put to music. It begins in a freight yard and ends in a jungle in India with a story from Ramakrishna, joining together the world of the Blues and Vedic Culture. This piece is not yet published in book form.
The Jubilee, the nearly forgotten Sabbath practice, is an amazing idea and principle: Demanded by God in the Old Testament; clearly laid out in several books of the Bible; identified with by Jesus, who said that he was the living incarnation of it; prominently placed in the Lord's Prayer and inscribed on the Liberty Bell of the United States. The Jubilee is a religious practice centered around the forgiveness of debt. It is an idea whose time has come again. One way or the other, whether debts are forgiven or just not paid, there will be a Jubilee in our world.
Because they did not practice the Jubilee, because they did not forgive their debts or set their slaves free, the Jews were driven into exile by Yahveh to Babylon and Egypt. This ancient practice, adopted in one form or another by many cultures throughout history, will help set the world free from the inevitable iniquities of the Capitalist system. When I first discovered it I felt like a person who had found a great treasure. If I did not share it with the world, I would not make my parents proud. This piece is not yet published in book form.
Mistakes and Cybernetics and how to steer one's path through life. On July 4, 1976, I had dinner with Buckminster Fuller. Right before dinner he said, "A drunk makes less mistakes than a sober man." I replied, "Bucky, I would not want to be in a boat or a plane with a drunk at the helm." He then replied, "Unless you make a mistake, you will not correct the course." That hidden truth of the necessity of mistakes, like a wonderful joke, is what led me to this subject. This piece is not yet published in book form.
True Wealth is not Threatened, a consideration of the recent financial crisis from the point of view of a religious-studies scholar. The main point: We are having a financial crisis, not an economic one. Over the last few years nothing has changed in our 'economics' - our ability to provide food, shelter, clothing, transportation and medical care has increased. In fact, except for the degradation of our environment by irresponsible use, the beneficial aspects of technology and the corresponding ability to accomplish so much more, using less and less material and energy, has now, for the first time in history, given us the ability to provide for every man, woman and child on earth a lifestyle equal to the kings of old. Obviously, however, almost none of this is happening.
The True Wealth of our World is not threatened by the financial crisis, unless we confuse money and finance with our economy. When we think, 'even if there is enough food, a person also has to have something called money to pay for it,' we have linked the economy and finance together. If we think our living is based on money, then, yes, there is a terrible crisis in the world. But this is a mistake and is not necessary. We have confused economy with the world of finance. In truth, we are having a financial meltdown, not an economic one. The roots of our confusion are, for the most part, unexamined and unconscious. In this story I try to throw light to the situation. It seems like a pretty important point to make. This piece is not yet published in book form.
The Loss of Tragedy and the Rise of New Age Thinking One of the basic tenets of New Age thinking is "Whatever you envision, whatever you think, will become Reality." I believe this to be a false tenet, born of a culture intoxicated with its ability to control things through science and technology. We have lost the ancient sense of life, that life is tragic and that we are driven by forces outside of our control. When we make this error, we have lost our faith in God and respect for the Devil, both of whom represent forces beyond the control of man. Instead, we have come to think that one day we will be able to control everything. With our vision of life no longer inclusive of what is ultimately out of our control, we have given birth to the shallow philosophy of New Age thinking. This piece is not yet published in book form.
These are but a few ideas that come to me. I have a list of nearly 300 more that need to be told and the list is growing.
I can hear the laughter now. . .