Time Waitsfor No Man

a Graphic Essayon

a Lyrical theme

Niki Daniels, June 2013

(for Prof Larry Lagerstrom/'Understanding Einstein,' Coursera.org)

… and that remembers the

powder blue of the

leather shoes she wore to the

Scottish National Orchestra

(SNO) on the day of her

first snow

fall

We are about to embark on a journey through a mind with a habit of making and breaking connections between words, events, and people.

A mind that sees 'Alice' and 'Bob' as but one way of getting from A to B...

or, from

B

to A

This is my maternal grandmother on the day of my first wedding. She was called Miss Mac (short for McIntosh). She bought me my first and only piano (a stout white Zender with very heavily weighted keys). She kept a plaque in her bathroom that read:

The hurrier I go,

The behinder

I get!

(Miss Mac was very often late)

The quote is from the White Rabbit in Lewis Carroll's

'Alice in Wonderland'. It is another way to say:

'leading clocks lag.'

I took after my father – George Vincent Rodriques, or 'Mr Rod'– in some ways. He was a sailor, always up before the sun. He had a very good sense of direction but was no good with words. This doily called 'Ocean Surf' represents my memory of him*

My mother was a ballet dancer in her youth, and is still a dancer at heart. She is also a feminist, but I don't take after her in that sense.

That said, in my 20's I madea time- inspired plaque of my own. It read:

Time waits for no Man... It is too busy trying to catch up

with Woman!*count the waves in the surf...

A memory: I was about ten years old, and

my father and I were waiting in his car to pick mummy up from work. There was a fountain in the driveway and as she passed by it, a breeze blew the water in her

face, and she laughed and skipped gracefully

towards us.

My mother, Jenny-Lind (named after the 'Swedish Nightingale,' Johanna Maria Lind (1820 –1887) danced in the Jamaican National Pantomime in 1947 (Cinderella) and 1948 (Beauty and the Beast).

Jenny playing with my feet. She still does this, and I love it.

Jenny-Wren

in 2010

Growing up, I read a lot, and listened to Jenny talking with her friends. They used a lot of big words. When I ran out of kid books I read mummy's books.

Disseminate, multitudinous scintillations! Oh minute sidereal atom, my contemplative soul is distracted by mirific conjectures as to the

mystery that envelops your planetary entity.

You irradiate my vision like a crystallized morsel of

carbonic matter, gleaming in the inaccessible abysss of

ethereal profundity.

Twinkle, twinkle, little Star!

This version of Twinkle twinkle is not original - a father figure to my mom taughtit to her. Mom's father was a poet who drank until it killed him (when she was 4).

My English teacher wanted to enter me in the national Spelling Bee. She gave the class a test and was surprised when I failed...

...so she tested me with the most difficult words and found that I could spell almost all of the hardest words, but only a few medium-hard words.

I was entered in the Bee. I placed 3rd in regionals, miss-spelling frolicked. The girl who came 2nd cried, but I was glad not to have to study more meaningless word lists...

(The test mimicked the competition - spellers who missed too many of the medium-hard words were eliminated).

Me just before elimination of my 'crowning glory' (cf Miss Mac) ---->

The first song I learned the lyrics to was Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head (Hal David). I cut the lyrics out from a newspaper.

I sang on my school choir, and learned piano. If I heard a song a few times on the radio I sang in my head till I knew it by heart.

Music was my light. I was shy so I would wander around the gardens at boarding school, singing softly so nobody could hear me.

One summer at teen summer camp, I entered a song competition. I've lost the lyrics/score now but I remember getting a special mention from the judges for a verse about the moon 'reflecting' light from the sun. Like Alice (in Wonderland), I was a daydreamer. I often felt aware of another world mirroring this one.

I found numbers as interesting as words, so I read about numerology and calculated all the numbers associated with all of my names. These things I have forgotten...

After my daughter was born (same birthday as Miss Mac) I started writing poetry and taking writing classes. Marina (T.S. Eliot) spoke to something in me.

One of my early poems, Youth and the Judge, is about 2 people contemplatinga pool of water. The Judge took precisemeasurements to estimate its depth. TheYouth laughed, and jumped in.

Nicola, aka Niki

Nicola means victory of the people.”I was once told Niki in Persian

means “to do good.”Playing dominoes at the beach

The poem 'Marina' by Eliot will give you a peek inside my head, and hopefully help you 'get' this and other leaves of the tree.

Cover & title poem of Niki's chapbook (2005)

Now it's raining again. There's a hole in the roof. You try to catch the deluge in a paper cup. - Crowded House

What's in a cup?Ice, mountains, smell of coffee,that's what, she told meleaning by the kitchen doorfeet unsteady, her chin in the airand that puckered frown, as much to capturequestions as release them from limbo.

Speckled with flour, the recipe overturned by a breeze, we laboredpiles of words like thickets of rosemaryplunging our hands in the metal bowluntil the dough was too spent to do anything but sigh, listlessat our child's game

So much rain.To make the flowers growshe said, drawing circles on the counteradding lightning stems for the measure. PTO

The dough sat in the fridge nowbloated, waiting to be pounded again.I wiped the counter, relieving the flowersof their frenzied growing. Mere zerosthe circles, like pockets of moondust,drizzling by the window.

My paternal grandmother (Dearma) with my baby in1991---->>

My dearest daughter (2012)

Now you have an idea about who I am. On to the main purpose. I will examine my lyrical work to see a) where and how the motif of Time in particular recurs, and b) if and how these lyrics echo or reflect the ideas about Time in Einstein's theories.

Disclaimer: I believe the universe contains patterns/laws of cause & effect which are 'discovered' by scientific method (Judge), and through creativity/the arts (Youth) and that these patterns recur because they are different expressions of the same reality.

The Nature of Time

In relation to Time, Einstein's theories suggest that:1) Light/photons move(s) at a Constant/maximum speed in a vacuum2) Leading clocks Lag

3) Simultaneity is RelativeBelow is a list of my original lyrics which mention Time at least in passing (pun

intended). The poems were published in Weights & Measures (2005). The songs in bold type contain the most Time-related content and will be examinedin detail. Excerpts from the other works will be presented without much ado.The poems in blue are from a series written in response to works of art.

Sing for you (1992)Sing it Again (1995)Catcher in the Wry (circa 2002) Eleven, and Fifteen (Anthony series)Ocean Story (Anthony series)Iron anniversary Mask of the survivor (after Edvard Munch)The Art of Dreaming (after Nakazzi Hutchinson)

Sing for you is, on one level, a song about human love. It expresses the idea that there is something eternal about love – a kind of all-or-nothing deal – that the depth of Love a person feels is not dependent on the length of Time they have known their lover.

Words have a life of their ownLeave them alone, and they'll sing for youTime's not an ultimate thing*No measuring how I feel for you

Love has a way of ending space...@has a way of lending grace to my arms,Voice to my fears, and joy to my tears

In other words, Love is a constant which operates with maximum intensity, all things being equal (i.e. assuming 'vacuum' conditions/ no obstacles in the way of the union). Love can thus be seen as a form of Light, having the quality of constancy of its defining characteristic.

@ Recall our thought experiments with Alice and Bob, in which lengths appear to contract.

*'Time's not an ultimate thing' is another way of saying 'Time is Suspect.'

Sing for you

After the bridge, the last verse goes:

Free as a bird on the wing...Flying, she'll bring you more smiles than this.One for the road up ahead*Leading, not led, still I'm far behind...*

@Now is the Time to tell me howI'm supposed to make things right in your eyes...@Tell me, no lies,for I can't read your...

#Words are an ultimate thing#No measure in how you feel for me.%Life has a love of its own,leave it alone, let it sing for you.%Sing for you / Sing / for you Sing / for you /

@Recall conversations between Bob and Alice as they compare the Timeon their clocks. Each knows something is wrong with the other's measurements...

#The 'words' in this lyricare correspondent to themeasurements taken by Bob and Alice! %Once Bob and Alice 'get'Relativity of Simultaneity,although their clocks will never agree, both can understand the extent of The Time and Distance between them.

*Leading clocks lag :)for you Sing (continued)

Sing for you / Sing / for you

Catcher in the Wry...

Now.

In the darkest hour of my Life, Lightleft me here, in your Skyand Leaves, (me!) wondering whyI see evening in your eyes.

Eyes (eyes!)seem so very nearListen until you can –---- (here) ------- their ripple (i)(i)Have reasons you don’t understand?It's because you are only a manIn the evening of our Life.

A conversation between twin voices. Most of the lines are duplicated with a slight shift in sound, and opposing shift in meaning.

Now, in the darkest hour,in the darkest hour of my Life, Lighthas left me hearing your Sky,and leaves Me, wondering why?I see evening in your eyes.

Eyes (eyes!)seem so very nearListen until you can hear –---- ------- their reply I have reasons. You don’t understand…

Man, in the evening of your life...

I recorded a very rough version of this song in 2007. I refined the lyric as a result of this course. If you want to hear the original, email me at pudproof@gmail.com.

We will be One!Bright as the Sun!We will be Long in the Morning, rosy and Fair.Clear on the Ear,now we can Hearour Destinies calling

We will be One!We have left song,and Dance behind!...No, one else seesthe mooring, in the mourning,deep in the Morning's Eye.

We will belong!Bright as the sun,

we will be One in the Mourning. Rosy and fair/clear!

On the air now,we can hear.

Our destiny is calling.

We will belong!We have left

song-and-dance behind...No-one else sees the morning,

like the mourning, deepIn the mourning's sighs.

<<=== Left hand Voice (Bob) has exchanged empty words for good deeds with no expectation of reward, and firmly believes when he dies he will enter the other (spiritual) world which is Timeless, or 'Light-Like', hence any earthly trials are insubstantial as fog. He sees Alice's predicament, but she stands by her own clocks...

Right hand Voice (Alice) is =====>>attached to her earthly possessions,

which cause her much worry. She believes she has done what she should to live a life

worthy of applause, but also thinks her problems are unique, outside her control, and

of paramount importance (i.e. Space-Like).

X+Google Spacetime/Minkowski diagram/Light Cone, or do the course for free at www.coursera.org.

Readers who didn't do the course may wish to:

Miscellaneous Time-like lyricsMorning = the Light of Understanding/traveling @ speed of Light, c; whileEvening/Night = ignorance engendered by relative difference in Velocity.

Anthony,you are my morningearly, when only the birdsand distant trucksabout their fathers' businessdare to breakthe moon's funereal covenant.(Eleven, first stanza)

Now, what is a treebut somewhere to sit

and be happy with you?And forget our leafy burdens

long enough to sprouta blossom of our own

in time to carve a forest nationand laugh again

petals falling from our lips.(Fifteen, last stanza)

Now, what is a treebut somewhere to sit

and be happy with you?And forget our leafy burdens

long enough to sprouta blossom of our own

in time to carve a forest nationand laugh again

petals falling from our lips.(Fifteen, last stanza)

As I speak the waves retreatsighing: soon, they say soon.The sand glitters with the foam's promiseand like a truant child's last lick the searushes to lap at my heels.

Soon it will be done, Anthony.Soon the eye of the sea will openon a morning like no other,(Ocean Story, end of 1st - start of 2nd stanza)

You gave me iron roses/ And you said,“They will not wither, or die.”/

Your flowers take so little carethe toil was in their makingnow they need notfade, or growor please.(Iron Anniversary, parts of 1st + last stanza)

Mask of the SurvivorAfter Edvard Munch

i dreamed the artistWe were both deadplucked from Tellurian spacewith its choked and folding hills

he told me about the enda feeling of being squeezed through a tube

and I heardthe scream

(p.19, Weights & Measures)

“Der Schrei der Natur”The Scream of Nature

Edvard Munch, 1895 (pastel on board)

PS

itru el y

did

dream

T H I S

Sing it Again (I Sing a Choir for You)

No reason to stayI'm so full of you, I have to give some away.Love, if we rise at dawn, and dream until... the moon reveals our madnessI never tire of You.My Love, it all comes back to You.

Let's sing it again: Love!Is like a bird in a tree (Is like the arrow that flies) (Is like a bird in the sea)Oh, sing it again: Love!Is like a fish in the sea (Is like the circle that ties) (Is like a fish in a tree)Sing it again: Love! That's the reason you love, when you love:

(You love, you love, you love, you love, you love, you love)Final chorus: You love your love, you love your love, you love your love.

No reason to change...Write it on my heart, and burn the words on the page.Love, if we move too fast... the earth will turn us back to where we startedI build a fire for You...My Love, it all comes back to You.

No reason to fear...I believe in following the Voice that You HearLove, if we run away... the Truth will choose another Day to find us.I sing a choir for you... My Love, it all comes back to You

Composed at Miami Writers Workshop,Summer 1995

The Art of Dreaming(After Nakazzi Hutchinson)

Driftwood lounging in a pool of greenconnected to the sky by her gnarly hair

spinning from the knotted wood a cleanunpolished arc, as if the sere

tree could breathe, and reach, and feelon its own. Driftwood the colors of sand,

the shape of a nymph, with hair like steel,wakes with a fish-dream in her hand.

(p. 21, Weights & Measures)

In conclusion: thanks to Prof Lagerstrom for hurrying so slowly with us onthe path to Understanding Einstein. I hope you have enjoyed this leisurelyjourney as much as I have. I believe the race is not for the swift, but it is in some ways a 'race'... effort is required to reach any worthwhile destination.I leave you with this poem from my grandpa, William Kenneth McIntosh (Bill).

I who most desire you,I would have you turn and run from me,Turn and run with the wind, and seek escape from me.Turn, baffled at bay, when the swift pursuit of the feetOf my unwearying soul shall tire you,Till you turn no more away,Knowing not whither to flee,Knowing at last your utter want of me.I would have it only so,I who most desire you.