This is worth the click, a time-lapse  movie of the creation of a sand mandala as part of the exhibit “In the Realm of the Buddha,” up through  through July 18, 2010 at the Smithsonian’s Arthur M. Sackler Gallery in Washington, D.C. From the Web site about the exhibit:

Buddhist monk and mandala master Venerable Ngawang Chojor created a Tibetan sand mandala in the Sackler pavilion March 13–21, 2010. A mandala is a two-dimensional representation of a three-dimensional palace that exists in the mind of the artist; it is considered a place where Buddhist deities reside. The intricate process of creating a mandala, which requires great patience and focus, serves as an aid to Buddhist meditation. Upon completion the mandala was consecrated, then swept up and dispersed to signify the impermanent nature of existence.

The ritual was captured by a camera mounted on a platform directly above the mandala. Images shot at five-minute intervals were merged to create this time-lapse movie.

An occasional meditation on the act of blogging.
Part 1: ‘Blogging = Streaking’
Part 2: ‘Bloggers Anonymous’

It’s a daunting task being an insignificant blogger without visible means of (blogging) support. This is what I’d rather be doing online. But it, too, has no visible means of support, either, unless one of the 32 people reading this post is an Appalachian Medici, a bored, progressive moneybags aesthete attorney. Or an angelic investor looking to shower manna on a cool idea no one is doing – right now at least – in the Mountain State. (Call me).

Re: blogging — if I invest a significant amount of daily lifeforce in posting regularly, using the trifecta of ‘Post it/Facebook the Post/Tweet the Post’ then  lather-rinse-repeat (preferably twice daily) and pursued ad infinitum, I can keep the snake-in-the-grass, hit-count graph slithering and undulating upwards and onwards. But lay off the posts for a couple days because you’re out and about in the world, viewing baby bald eagles in southern West Virginia (more on that later) or picking up your teen daughter from 4-H camp a few counties over on a two-day trip, and the graph collapses. And you’re back into forlorn single digits. Which may include multiple hits from your same three devoted daily fans, checking back in to see if: a) You have posted anything new; b) You finally gave up on the occasional hassle of constant, unremunerated blogging; c) You died.

I think it takes a mission statement. Why, exactly, are you blogging? I began this blog a couple moons ago with a challenge to a friend – I would start blogging daily if she would. She hasn’t. Her past few blogposts (of the few she has posted) have been laments on the order of ‘WHY can’t I blog?’ Which, all things considered, is not too different from what I am doing here, interrogating the very Act of Blogging. Because, really, if all us members of OBA (the Obscure Bloggers of America) were to all of a sudden stop blogging it would have all the impact of a Kleenex tossed in the Grand Canyon. E.G – a lot. Not.

So, we proceed anyhow, my fellow Obanians. Trying to find a rhythm, yes. That’s the hard part. Trying to fit the time in. (I started typing this at 7:30 a.m. and the clock is ticking on when I need to hit the highway for my 55-minute commute to the Paragraph Factory where I work). Trying – and this is the tricky part – to find a voice that reveals a little of  your ‘lifestreaming‘ going by. And maybe the hardest part: trying to find a point of view. Among my reasons to blog is to point people to interesting, fun, reason-to-go-on links, heartening quotes and intriguing videos. Also, to point people to work I’ve done elsewhere, so it might live a little longer than the evanescent flicker, the firefly blink, of a daily newspaper article. Here today, gone tomorrow, disappeared behind a newspaper library fee wall: That’ll cost you $5 to read anymore.

Also, in the spirit of “The Wasteland,”: “These fragments I have shored against my ruins …” To gather into one place things I value and that hearten me in the face of the workaday universe’s constant reminders of just how insignificant all our ambition really is.  I throw a lot of Kleenexes into the Canyon. They sometimes look pretty floating through the air. Like kites. Or flocks of seagulls.

A nicely done piece, done simply. With a turnaround, literally, that turns the piece on its head. From the YouTube page for the video: This video was prepared by the UK branch of Dorling Kindersley Books and produced by Khaki Films. Originally meant solely for a DK sales conference, the video was such a hit internally that it is now being shared externally… Read an interview with the creator of the video on the Penguin Blog: http://bit.ly/futureofpublishing