issue No. 12

It is all about innovations in funerals. Yup, funerals. A mashup between technology and celebrations of lives well lived.

And the masthead of this week’s edition was a great shot by Erik Holladay. He captures the season as it turns from spring to summer. One the beach in St. Joseph.

Dann Sytsma, creative director for Crawlspace Eviction Productions, looks out the front window of Studio 246. Photo by Leisa Thompson.

I hope you will enjoy reading what I am working on these days. This edition featured some of my favorite funny people from Crawlspace Eviction.

It is all about growth and investment news in Southwest Michigan.

Very exciting.

Check it out.

It’s called Second Wave.

Second Wave Media

There are things you don’t think about when you find your first dream house.

The 150-year-old pine tree out front is coming down $500 at a time. And yet, I don’t have the heart to take out something that has been around since the Civil War. I can only hope it rewards my tree hugging heart  by not falling on my living room when it finally does unravel (a technical tree removers term).

You never think that the driveway with a slope that scrapes cars will need to be plowed after even the slightest snow because gravity and no traction equals no forward momentum uphill.

It takes a running start from a distance almost across the street to whip up the drive if more snow falls after the plow guy has been here.

On the other hand, once you’ve made it up, the view from the hill is inspiring. From here we can see the fireworks in the park as the New Year comes in. From here the whir of the street below is muffled. From here we’re a little bit above it all.

I can say, going uphill is worth the effort. Even when you scrape bottom to get there.

Photo by Stephanie Bennett, my brilliant niece.

At the end of July, I spent a weekend watching spiders.

The setting was a campsite — a circle of stones in a walnut forest — and a tent.

My guide for the weekend — spider — all eight legs of her.

When you watch anything closely you can find a lesson. Patterns emerge.

Although I know spider simply was going about her business, throughout the weekend of silent reflection my brain, wired to make connections, found wisdom in those webs:

– You don’t have to know where you are going.

– Weaving webs can take you to high places in the trees.

– Weaving is more often done close to the ground. If you don’t look at just the right angle you will miss seeing the low lying web, entirely. Keep looking.

–  Webs created at dawn collect dazzling rain drops from last night’s storm.

– A single strand can tie us to all God has made.

Natives view spiders as signs of unconditional love, the infinite, and creativity.  Today’s scientist admire the spider’s silk for its strength and elasticity. Another person on another day might observe the spider and draw lessons of productivity and perseverance. The lessons are as varied as the students learning them.

On this particular visit, for me, it was not about quiet industry, but about the sustaining power of quiet itself. It was an awakening to the quiet energy that comes of watching nature unfold. An energy that feeds the flame unleashed by the Holy Spirit.

For this project I collected the pictures from various publicity Web sites. I crafted some of the words, but most were provided by the artists. The cover art work was provided by John Kasdorf. I assembled the pieces. Come to the festival. You need a laugh, you know you do.