Hieroglyph Magic

The last Intro to Hieroglyphs Class was the other week, and I've been spending some time writing various words in hieroglyphs, making flashcards, and going through Sir Alan Gardiner's "Egyptian Grammar, edition three."  "Egyptian Grammar," is interesting and informative (and funny in some places), but I did have a moment about two days into it where I had to admit to myself that I had secretly hoped it would be filled with Ancient Egyptian Spells (cue DeForest Kelley as Dr. McCoy asking High Priestess Natira of Yonada about The Book of The People concealed within an obelisk, "Don't you long to know its secrets?").  

While I have found a section to a "spoken offering" frequently carved in mortuary temples, so far there hasn't been a Middle Kingdom version of "Oh Zephyr Winds / which blow on high: / Lift me now / so I can fly!"  

What is intriguing about hieroglyphs to me is that their use of unvoiced determinatives, which are frequently ideograms, at the end of words. Written English doesn't use them, but the closest thing I can think of that would be like them was if we wrote the word "stop" and then added a red octagon at the end. Or, I suppose, the word "poop" and then added the poop emoji (eye roll).   Ideograms and determinatives give Egyptian hieroglyphs an appealing graphic design element.

One word I thought I would like to try out is "ḥekꜣ," or, to give it's English translation, "magic."  It's spelled wick, ka, vulture, man pointing to his mouth.  The wick is a twist of flax used in oil lamps.  The ka is a soul or spirit.  The vulture is a vulture.  The determinative of the man pointing to his mouth ends words related to voice, eating, or the mouth.   

I went to the Unicode web site, found the hieroglyphs, arranged them in InkScape, then imported the InkScape SVG into Blender.  After a while fiddling with Blender meshes -- I need to re-import the SVG and close up holes in the individual meshes -- I had some objects I could render.  Unfortunately, importing the unicode characters, especially complex characters with lots of loops and holes, results in confused meshes that aren't manifold (or "air-tight"); so I couldn't use what I'd created to engrave hieroglyphs from a solid block using a Boolean difference function.  Oh, well; only embossed figures for me.  

I'm ambigious about the result.  On one hand, it's cool to see the Ancient Egyptian word for "magic" glowing on a computer screen.  On the other hand, there's room for improvement.  The unicode characters are great for sending Tweets, IM, or e-mail messages; but they don't scale up well.  The way the characters are constructed doesn't give me much room to play with stroke weight, so some hieroglyphs look chunky.  Granted, this is a typeface and not graphic art, but because they're designed for an 8 or 12 point, there's no option for fine details like fingers or eyes, and so things look utilitarian and over-simplified.  I'm thinking that I might improve this render if I'm able to bevel the hieroglyphs so they don't look quite so blocky.  Finally, these simply might look better engraved instead of embossed. 

Perhaps I can use photos of the Sarcophagus of Harkhebit for more finely crafted examples 

Accidental Grotto

Last night it rained.  A marine system must have blown in, because today has been overcast, with thick grey clouds lazing across the sky -- it's like a late September day, only it's mid-August.  Not that I'm complaining:  I much prefer partly-cloudy mid-70's to clear (or hazy) 100's.   If I had been awake, most likely I would have gone outside and held my palms over my head to receive the rain's touch.

Over the summer, the fort in our yard has turned into a kind of grotto.  Originally constructed about a decade ago with some help from my dad, the fort was supposed to be a tree-house without a tree for The Child to play on.  Mostly it's used by the cats as a scratching post--or at least it was until Aoife came to stay and the cats abandoned the back yard.  Sometimes it's a good spot for astronomy for when one needs a boost above the neighborhood rooflines; but it does shake a little, which is not so good for astrophotography.   Mark planted grape vines that scale up the west side of the fort and this year I've trained them along the railings so that the deck of the fort isn't completely overgrown.  Various objects d'art have found places to hang from on the fort:  wind chimes,  a folate head, little bells, a putti head, op-art LED stars, a bronze bat with a polished heart, and, most recently, the old wrought iron dragon sconces we bought almost twenty years ago (and which required newly-purchased Moroccan lanterns).  

It's too low for me to stand up straight under, but I took a cue from Frank Lloyd Wright and place a low, ergonomic gamer-chair and a small side table, and voila! it's a shaded place from which to write.  At least in the spring and summer.  In a few weeks the grape leaves will yellow and fall off, and -- hopefully -- the rains will return, and then the regular deck will be the go-to outside place to write.  

In slightly related news, in addition to hummingbirds, a flicker and a raft of different types of finches have discovered the fountain.  Mark and I watched four finches congregate on top of the flat granite and flutter into the upwelling.

Christmas with the Dead

This morning I dreamed that Mark and I were on a road-trip that ended up at my Aunt Joanne and Uncle Ron's house.  Their house was more a location, because it was located on the Dream North Side of Ridgewood (which in real life is getting developed).  Both have passed away, but that didn't occur to me during the dream -- in fact, I recall noticing that Aunt Joanne looked younger and fitter than my mother currently does.

It was Christmas time.  There was a dream-conglomeration of "extended family members," but Joanne and Ron and Mark were the most clearly there.  My cousin Kevin was there, I think.  The recall is fuzzy, but I suddenly realized that they were setting up altars of some sort.  They were made out of cardboard boxes, a little larger than shoe boxes, decorated with paper and felt.   I want to say they were red, blue, and green, with crosses, stars, and filigree -- kind of like stain glass windows, only with fabric.   There was a main altar set up on a serving buffet, and then a kind of low communion rail about five feet away made up of more decorated boxes lined up on the hardwood floor.  Everyone had their own personal box.  I want to say the boxes were stacked up into a low wall (sort of like cardboard bricks in a preschool), and that there were some larger boxes cut on a diagonal as a form that the smaller boxes could slide into.

The family had gathered to assemble the boxes into a display, and were lined up at the rail.  It was some sort of family ritual, sort of a cross between singing Christmas carols and saying grace.  (In real life they aren't particularly religious.)  I had a few moments where my clothes kept changing--I'd look down and notice I was in a bathrobe, or naked, or that I needed to dress up a little bit.  There was a sense that I needed to wake up and join the party.  Eventually I managed to have the appropriate attire and joined everyone.  

I'm guessing some of this dream comes from last night's discussion of my parent's monster Christmas Tree decorating and a general focus this week on Ancient Egyptian writings to deceased ancestors (spoken prayer offering of a thousand bread and beer, a thousand beef and fowl, and all that is good and pure for a spirit to live on).  It does seem strange to me that I'd dream of my maternal Aunt and Uncle, and not my fraternal Aunt (who has passed the most recently).... but then again, I'm thinking the Family House in the Woods typically involves my mom's side of the family.  

Anniversary Canoe Trip

Sunday the First was the day that Mark and I celebrated our wedding anniversary.   I can hardly believe that we've been together seventeen years.  I'm not even sure what that is in Gay Years.  We planned to eat dinner at the Local Nice Restaurant, and I suggested that we go for a morning's canoeing on a canal off of the Willamette.

The Child declined to join us on the canoe trip.  The last time we went canoeing on the canal was about three years ago.  This time it was just Mark (navigating in the back)  and me (rowing in the front); if I had been thinking ahead, I would have brought a picnic.  We started a little north of Alten-Baker Park in the Autzen Canal, followed it past the stadium and dog-park, past the Cuthbert Amphitheater, and continued along to the Patterson Slough.  At first, there were two osprey in the sky; one had a fish in its talons.   When we floated under bridges, we saw where swallows had plastered their adobe nests to the underside. 

There are many large mansions along the shore where the canal meets the slough.  I think Mark's favorite yard had the two fake coyotes glaring out over the water.  We couldn't decide if they were supposed to scare the geese (no goose poop here) or intimidate the raccoons or nutria.    

As we paddled upstream, we passed groups of ducks standing on their heads and geese preening on logs.   We had to port the canoe in two places, but managed to float underneath I-5 -- where there's a cool mural of canoeing Native Americans -- and all the way to the gate separating the slough from the Willamette.  We caught a quick sight of a heron before it flew up stream and out of sight.  

Floating back was nice (well, okay, there was that one probable meth-user under a bridge who was so obviously drug impaired that he couldn't figure out how to take off his shirt); I got to turn around and actually look at my husband as the lilies, maples, pines, and grasses passed by.  Small jeweled dragonflies like sapphires and emeralds flew along side us, and sometimes larger ones with clear windows in the middle of their wings.  

We saw more and more people on or along the water as we went on; in some ways it was too bad that the canoe rental doesn't start until 11 AM, because it would have been nice to be on the water during the cooler part of the day and have the it more to ourselves.  On the plus side, we saw three dogs with their owners on paddle-boards; so that was cool.