Mind Splotch

2009-10-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

I love cats, especially lol cats.

Three things about London

2009-09-17T19:53:00.000-07:00

London has a lot of pedestrians. A lot. There are so many that at each crosswalk no one really bothers with waiting for pesky things like crosswalk lights. There are almost always little handy islands between opposing forces of traffic, which makes it quite convenient to run across one section, wait for traffic to die down the other direction, and then continue one's journey. If cars are backed up through a traffic light, the pedestrians will cross in front of them until there's space for them to go forward. The drivers don't seem too bothered by this (unless some really egregious blockage occurs), but then again, how could they? There are almost always enough pedestrians to swarm any resisting car, maim, and kill.
So far, it's been interesting to see what restaurant owners at various touristy areas do when faced with conditions such as Americans, large crowds, disturbances, etc... I certainly hope I've seen the worst of it, and thus will try to avoid blatantly stereotyping in my mind, but the various owners so far definitely seem to be in the "get 'em in, get 'em out" mentality, which makes sense, if more than half of your clientele will never make a repeat visit. We were at a restaurant (that shall remain nameless) by several known landmarks and were seated outside. The food was quite good, so I'll definitely recommend that part if pressed. But it was interesting to watch the main greeter and his attitude towards tourists vs. non-tourists. Locals he would joke with, shake their hands, share a decidedly "British" eye-roll when something wasn't too their liking (a brilliant beat boxer did a short set, and this pair of blonde ladies left irritated... seriously? An amazing artist shows up for free, and you're going to roll your eyes and leave? All right then), but Americans (not just us) were somehow just a little bit underneath his gaze, if you know what I mean. I'm not really irritated or anything, as I think it would be hard to maintain a completely genuine demeanor in (a) such a crowded, hectic environment with (b) such inconsistent and often loud crowds. But it was interesting to see such a marked difference.
British crisps are definitely better than our chips. The packaging looks almost exactly like Lays back home, but the crisps are lighter, thinner, well, crispier.

2009-08-21T10:16:00.000-07:00

He posits the rise of something he calls "peep culture," in which "life is lived on constant record because you never know when you're going to want to be able to rewind something, see it again, confront a family member, show it to the police, sell it to the highest bidder, or post it on your blog." Or, more succinctly: "We all have lives worthy of watching. We all have lives worthy of selling." These are the right questions to be asking: What does it mean for society, for human nature, when the camera is always on? Is this going to change the way we relate to each other? Our expectations for daily interaction? When almost everyone tweets every thought, who will need to enter a wooden booth and tell a priest what's going on?

~ Stephen Reiss' Review of THE PEEP DIARIES: How We're Learning to Love Watching Ourselves and Our Neighbors by Hal Niedzviecki

time

2009-04-22T19:19:00.001-07:00

We need 28 hour days. There is simply not enough time in the day to sleep, eat, think (productively), comment on student papers, read, study, plan, commute, do laundry, check facebook, watch the news, write papers, talk with friends, take care of family, laugh, drink tea, and write blog posts. Something has to give, and it unfortunately for the past few months has been blogging. I find it funny that it was my interest in online discourse that propelled me into grad school, that I lost said interest temporarily in favor of kinesthetics/embodied learning/rhetorical theory/humor as rhetoric/etc, and that I am now teaching a computer integrated classroom and am now busy thinking of the possibilities for pedagogy and the internet once again. If I manage to maintain this interest in spite of everything else, I must then of course find a way to find time to blog - how can I profess to be interested in online discourse if I do not practice it myself?

2008-12-23T23:02:00.000-08:00

Education, memory itself, is but the recapitulation of all the moments of genius in that culture. Education is always breaking down old categories and recombining them in better ways. And who has a better memory, strictly speaking, that the catatonic who resurrects some part of the past in all its completeness, annihilating the present moment utterly? I might go so far as to say that thought itself is a disease of the brain, a degenerative condition of matter.

~ excerpt from Camp Concentration by Thomas M. Disch, p 59

snow days

2008-12-21T21:00:00.000-08:00

As the local news media has been inundated with pictures of the miraculous appearance of snow in December, I will not bore my viewing audience by adding any here. In an unrelated note, I have misplaced my camera.

So, I will attempt to paint a word picture. Nathan and I, bundled up like two Alaskan snow babies, trudged down to Juanita Bay Park through the icy-crusted coffee-tinted snow. Upon our arrival, we were greeted by a MASS of seagulls, eagerly looking over our persons for a morsel of bread. Two trips to Walgreens later, we busily crumbled and distributed 3 loaves of white and wheat bread (not necessarily in that order) to the hungry birds. (For those of you angered by this blatant waste of food, do keep in mind that the lake has been covered in snow and partially frozen since last Mon).

Note: Seagulls have very sharp beaks. There was blood in the snow by the time we were done (from other seagulls, not us). But, they made up for their sadistic, parasitic ways by being highly entertaining - they quickly realized that instead of scrabbling for muddy crumbs on the ground, circling my head and waiting for a large chunk to fly their way was the better option.

There was also a crowd of ducks that mainly stayed around my feet, stepping on me repeatedly, and a gaggle of comparatively sedate geese whose long necks proved to be a disadvantage in getting to the food quickly.

I will post pics if I get to go again tomorrow, and if I find my camera.

Thanks

2008-11-29T21:52:00.000-08:00

I'm a bit late with my post on things I'm thankful for, but that does not lessen the impact these often simple, often unnoticed things have on my life.

Nathan
Mom
Angela
Dad
my health
my teeth
my job
my writing ability
teaching
Blush (my cat, not the makeup)
good food
food period
clean water
money in the bank
warm sweaters
dance classes
free time, as rare as it is
cooking with family
various technologies that make my life easier albeit tech-dependent
the Bible and time to study
time to read for myself
did I mention my health?
amazing performances like the one from Crystal Pite last weekend
my students
living in the often wet yet beautiful Pac NW

2008-11-05T10:21:00.000-08:00

America has changed a lot in the past few years.

2008-10-31T08:30:00.001-07:00

A sampling of nature's glory.

2008-10-23T23:11:00.000-07:00

in a middle of a room
stands a suicide
sniffing a Paper rose
smiling to a self

"somewhere it is Spring and sometimes
people are in real:imagine
somewhere real flowers,but
I can't imagine real flowers for if I

could,they would somehow
not Be real"
(so he smiles
smiling)"but I will not

everywhere be real to
you in a moment"
The is blond
with small hands

"& everything is easier
than I had guessed everything would
be;even remembering the way who
looked at whom first,anyhow dancing"

(a moon swims out of a cloud
a clock strikes midnight
a finger pulls a trigger
a bird flies into a mirror)

~ E.E. Cummings

grad school

2008-10-10T12:16:00.000-07:00

For the last few weeks, I've been teaching freshman English and reading Marx, Freud, and Nietzsche. Surprisingly, my sleep level has remained roughly the same - I've instantly become much better at time management. I do think I will have to become even better come next quarter when both my classes are going to be rather theoretical (this quarter I have one theory and one practicum class).

I've also been able to take about 1-2 dance classes a week - not much, but I'm glad for now I can keep my physical muscles flexing along with my intellectual ones.

2008-09-19T23:56:00.001-07:00

What is a rhetorical question?

Vancouver pics

2008-09-05T20:56:00.000-07:00

Nathan

Bring on the snow!

Oh so friendly pigeons

Yummy treats

Crazy guy on a unicycle

Love those outfits

O Canada...

2008-09-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

This Labor Day (or Labour Day) weekend, my husband and I went to Vancouver B.C. for a much needed vacation. The weather was beautiful, the people were fairly nice, and the food was excellent. (pics to follow soon)

The one bizarre note comes from a morning of people/traffic watching on Burrard and Robson st. Apparently there is an rule up in Canada that buses can run red lights if (a) the light turned red less than two seconds before, and (b) if they honk profusely all the way through the intersection. So, if you need to drive in downtown Vancouver during the morning/early afternoon hours, you are forewarned.

2008-08-02T12:41:00.001-07:00

Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen? ~Friedrich Nietzsche

2008-08-01T12:11:00.000-07:00

Knowledge is elusive and volatile; it escapes measurement. That's why the conquering god of that era was Hermes, inventor of all trickery, god of crossroads and thieves. He was also the creator of writing, which is the art of evasion and dissimulation and a navigation that carries us to the end of all boundaries, where everything dissolves into the horizon, where cranes lift stones from the ground and weapons transform life into death, and water pumps make heavy matter float, and philosophy deludes and deceives...

~ Umberto Eco in Foucault's Pendulum

Katherine

2008-07-23T11:04:00.000-07:00

I find I must agree with the feelings in this article - quite a good job of pointing out the multiple double standards of Hollyweird.

2008-07-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

babies

2008-07-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one's youth.
How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127:3-5 (NASB)

The above passage is often used to explain why it is a Christian duty to procreate, and procreate often. As a recently married woman, I am steeling myself for the inevitable questions about when and how Nathan and I are going to reproduce ourselves.

Now, I like kids. I've had to teach a lot of little kids and big kids in dance and at Sunday School, and most kids are cool once you get to know them (some are spoiled terrors, but that's another post on parenting issues). I see no problem with people having biological children.
However, I know several females whose life goal is essentially to have lots and lots of kids, based largely on the fact that they think it's Biblical.

I regret for once the necessary brevity of blogging, as I could easily start a twenty page, cross-referenced paper on why I feel the above is not true, but I'll settle for a few pertinent examples.

In looking at Psalm 127, one sees it is labeled "A Song of Ascents, of Solomon." It was a song of praise, probably sung in a public parade, for David's favorite son. What father watching a favored son growing up wouldn't feel the more the merrier, especially a king in a patriarchal society? From a more pragmatic viewpoint, a king with strong princes would be in a stronger tactical position against enemies. This is even referenced as "when they speak with their enemies at the gate" - litigation used to be performed at city gates, and the more sons a man had, the more powerful he appeared. I don't see how this is relevant enough to today's society to base one's entire lifestyle around it.

Even more striking than this is all the references to adoption.
In Romans 9:25-26, "As He says also in Hosea, "I will call those who were not my people, 'My people,' And her who was not beloved, 'Beloved.'" "And it shall be that in the place where it was said to them, 'You are not My people,' There they shall be called the sons of the Living God."
Ephesians 1:4-5 - "just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will"

The above is not to say that people shouldn't have children, especially if it is their dream to do so. But I am saying that those people should take a step back and take a hard look at that dream to see if is originating from a God given purpose or from a possibly misguided sense of religiosity.

First of all, why is it so important that you have children? Do you really have something important to pass on, or do you want to play at being a parent for a while? Secondly, if you do honestly feel you are supposed to be a parent, does it have to be biological? I've had people tell me when they find out that I am adopted that they couldn't possibly have loved an adopted child as much as a biological one. Why? Being a parent is not a walk in the park - it doesn't take having kids to realize that. So parenting, biologically or via adoption is a choice that you as a future parent make. You make a choice to love that child whether or not he or she grows up to be a doctor or a football player or a slacker. You make a choice to try and guide that child to the best of your abilities, to fulfill your responsibility as a parent even in the times that you don't like the child (e.g. adolescence).
And if you do decide to have children and are open to the idea of adoption, there are lots of kids out there that need parents.

two quotes

2008-06-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d—see here it is—
I hold it towards you.
~ John Keats

We're married now; we can't get rid of each other.
This is awesome!
~ my husband

Paulo Freire

2008-06-17T14:52:00.000-07:00

Authentic thinking, thinking that is concerned about reality, does not take place in ivory tower isolation, but only in communication.
~
The Pedagogy of the Oppressed
Paulo Friere
p64

traveling is now possible

2008-06-13T21:12:00.000-07:00

I now have a passport, and the picture looks horrible.
Oh well, I am now free to move around the world. *grin*

traveling

2008-06-03T11:29:00.001-07:00

Today I am going to get started on my passport application materials. I've been increasingly hassled by friends about my passport less state. In my defense, I have never really needed one. No study abroad, no relatives in France/Thailand/Mexico, etc... (although I have been and lived throughout southern LA) = a passport not being a necessity. However my recent marriage has resulted in my husband and I talking about all the fun trips we want to take in the future, hence me now needing a passport.

In my browsing online today, I was nudged again when looking at this most fabulous academic travel opportunity. Now, I do have quite a lot of time before I could even think of applying to this academic month in Rome (one of the requirements for writers is a sample of a published book), but it's fun to anticipate, even so far in advance.

More realistically the passport will be used for a quick vacation. Panama anyone?

2008-05-26T10:36:00.000-07:00

I was looking over the last few months worth of blog posts, and the paucity struck me as rendering my blog somewhat ineffectual, which is kind of silly since I didn't have a direct effect in mind when creating Mind Splotch. However, one's presence on the web is measured in posts/responses/im's, so I will attempt to briefly explain my seemingly sporadic postings.

1. I was married to a wonderful man just over one week ago. Even with a very small wedding, there's a lot of planning that goes into such an event. I'm mainly glad I ordered enough food.

2. A few weeks before said wedding, I quit my job. Now, I hate typing this, because I feel very slackerish in my unemployed state (although planning a wedding did preclude normal job searching). The main reason I write this is because I should not have waited so long to end what had turned into a horrible interpersonal situation between my boss and I. I love what I do for a living (teaching in and for various formats, styles), but in the end I was dreading going into work not because of my students but because of the other nasty politics flying around.
A weight was verily lifted off of my shoulders once I had made the decision to leave. So don't be like me! If you are in a job that is suffocating your soul and destroying the love you once had for your work, the inspiration for all that you do, then leave.

Life is now good. I have a new husband and a much better mindset for a summer job search.

2008-05-18T08:50:00.001-07:00

As of this afternoon,

Nathan and I are going to be married!

tech in the classroom

2008-05-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

The article on this page describes what happens when students run amok in an experimental online classroom/chat room. The theory is that by involving technologies that are viewed in conjunction with "leisure" activities, effective learning is castrated. The authors of this study do have some pertinent points, but it does seem as though some gray area has been blacked out rather heavily.

Essentially, after the students logged on, the male students in the classroom started cracking homophobic jokes, jokes that the females largely ignored. According to the authors,

The early interventions by two male students set the framework and modality for the majority of their fellow online contributors. The usual power dynamics of a seminar setting, facilitated by the lecturer, were immediately transgressed and became impossible to re-establish.

How did it become impossible to re-establish boundaries? Another thing that is troubling about the article is that the reader is not given a sense of what boundaries were set into place before the students entered the online classroom. Did the teachers, perhaps with the notion that students obsessed with Facebook would immediately grasp the idea of an online classroom, give minimal instruction and expect the students to just "get it"?

Another section of the paper that is troubling reads as follows

The greatest gift that a
life of the mind provides is awareness that we are
responsible for our own failures, inadequacies and laziness. The greatest gift that chat rooms, blogs and Facebook provide is the construction of endless cycles of displacement where others – writers, teachers, politicians, boyfriends, girlfriends, (ex)best friends and mothers – can block the knowledge that we are accountable for the decisions we make in our lives. Homophobia is not a legitimate strategy or method for creating an empowered identity.

Where does the jump happen that allows the implicit comparison of homophobia with using online technologies? Instead of using the experience and searching out other possibilities with students using technology, the authors seem to have given up, tarring online discussion with the brush of homophobia and laziness forever. It did seem as though a chat room was too closely related to "leisure-based platforms" to be useful for ongoing class discussion, but it would be interesting to see the class layout reworked to see if a chat room can be a viable tool. What if the students didn't know each other and were given completely anonymous, gender neutral pseudonyms? Would that remove some of the gender based insults, or would that merely leave everyone open for flaming? What if the students were actually in seperate locations instead of packed together in a classroom where they could still talk to one another face to face?

What feels most important that the authors have failed to realize, or at least account for in their article, is that the online world has the same people that the real world does. The students that speak up in class are still going to speak up online. Unfortunately, if one is a slacker/homophobe in one's day to day interactions, those nasty traits do not disappear just because of a computer screen. The only difference is the words are in pixels instead of in sound waves. Such students need to learn to moderate their communication style in order to more fully deal with the learning issues at hand. And this needs to happen with some sort of online technology given how prolifically everyone uses it. Perhaps blogging instead of chatting, giving the students more time to process their thoughts while removing the ability to react as informally as in regular conversation?

blogging in academia

2008-04-15T14:06:00.001-07:00

I wonder how much the buzz in this article will affect academia's view of blogging. "blogging and blugging" can work for graduate students who want a forum for their ideas without having to go through a major publisher; news feeds list prominent blogs in addition to the regular opinion writers, and many of those have switched their methodology to blogging. Yet this really great tool still seems to be on the outskirts when it comes to teaching.
The Ed Techie says:

At this stage, it is more about the social networking than establishing a profile around ideas. The relative importance of a blog may depend on who you are and where you are in your career.
He's saying that the people moving 'beyond' blogging are the ones already established within their field of expertise, perhaps why they feel more comfortable moving to a more plastic flow of information on Twitter or FriendFeed.
I agree with his view that blogs are not just archives . Technology hasn't moved quite that fast. The relative slowness of blog comments and feedback (compared to instant messaging or other networking sites) are part of what make blogs a really great space to think out ideas and interact with other minds. Face to face and real time mediated conversations are great, but there is a definite difference in dialogue when there isn't the immediate pressure to sound 'smart' in your response, when you can read the posted ideas and go away and process your thoughts and eventual response.
I know that when I was an undergraduate I enjoyed listservs and class forums, but there was a problem with members of the class not participating. Blogs however, are definitely more open to being injected with one's personality. There's room to add pictures, font choices, which blogging service you use, etc... With the removal of the university as supplier, one of the layers between the student and posting goes away. It feels like less of a chore set up by the institution (with the university's logo ever present) and more like an demonstration of one's personal intellect. This is not to say that new tools like Twitter wouldn't help with such an exercise, but there is too much unexplored potential in blogging at the undergraduate level to move forward quite yet.

truth

2008-03-20T14:01:00.000-07:00

If at first you don’t succeed, skydiving is not for you.

Across the Universe

2008-03-10T00:31:00.000-07:00

Last year, when the trailer for Across the Universe came out, I was ecstatic. Acid tripping through Julie Taymor's reinvisioned 60s with a wicked Beatles soundtrack. And dancing!

Through one scheduling mess after another, I didn't actually get to watch the movie until last week. I am glad I did not pay full price.

Although I think this review sums it up nicely, there are a few other random bits that I wonder if anyone else noticed. I seriously think this movie was funded by various advertisers hoping their 'subliminal messages' would bring in more cash.

Seriously, does this scene not remind anyone of a Microsoft infomercial?
How about this one? Coca-cola anybody?
I'm torn on this one - I thought Gap when I first saw it, but after subsequent youtube views I'm thinking an Eternity commercial, or some other brand that relies on skinny, pretty, reclining people for its image. The main difference is that there are actually nonwhite people in this clip, as opposed to the commercials.

I know I Am Sam gets ripped on for the Pavlovian usage of the Beatles, but I'm still not entirely sure how that's different or worse than using amazing pieces of rock art as mere backdrops for random bits of visual imagery.

my favorite Irish curse

2008-03-06T13:37:00.000-08:00

With St. Patrick's Day fast approaching...

"May the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind illegitimate children chase you so far over the hills of damnation that the Lord himself can't find you with a telescope"

No offense meant to any reader, just some food for thought and some inspiration perhaps for creative naysaying instead of relying on four letter words.

2008-02-29T09:50:00.001-08:00

This is probably one of the best posts on why Wikipedia and academia don't mix.
It does seem that Wiki goes beyond a typical encyclopedia in detail, especially on certain entries that have twenty different subheadings, yet I can definitely see the need to put limitations on how and where students should use Wiki tidbits.

2008-02-29T09:50:00.000-08:00

I was finally accepted to the University of WA English graduate program. Now I just wait and see if I was also accepted as a Teaching Assistant.

*huge grin*

2008-02-24T16:27:00.000-08:00

The author of this post seems to be the type of person now voting for Obama. It's interesting seeing how much he correctly projected in terms of the general debacle still currently playing out.

technology

2008-02-11T22:30:00.001-08:00

Thanks to my internet being down for a couple of weeks, I was forced to become reaquainted with that seething mass of yellow paper and black ink otherwise known as the phone book. It's a funny instrument, highly useful when Google is off limits, and perhaps even when I do have internet access. The miracle of search engines is not to be belittled, but one does have to have a general idea of what one is looking for. Wheras with the phone book, one might be browsing through looking for, say, a dance clothing shop, whereupon that said person realizes those shops are sandwiched in between 12 dairy suppliers and 4 dart board makers. You can't really find that variety with just one search on Google. I suppose you could look up the Yellow pages online, but that would just be silly.

teaching

2008-01-20T13:21:00.000-08:00

About a year and a half ago, I was speaking with one of my professors about graduate school. He was writing me a letter of rec, and he queried why I was just applying to the English grad program and not to Communication (as that was my undergrad degree). I responded off the top of my head (not a safe place to grab stuff from generally) that I didn't want to spend my life performing statistical studies. He seemed somewhat disappointed in my answer and iterated how that really wasn't the focus of the department.

I think I have a better answer now. The more I think about it in this long interim, the more I realize that my true love is teaching. I want to teach college kids to write and how to write well. Now of course I want to integrate what I learned about new technologies and the like, different texts = different ways of writing. But even then in my professor's office I knew on some subconscious level that I was interested more in the structure rather than the content.

It's really the teaching. In my current part time job as a writing tutor, I love it when the kids finally "get" something and when I see their writing improve. Even if it takes a long while, at the very least I seem to be good at helping them see that writing is not the horrific behemoth they once thought.

Hopefully the above ideas come across not quite as cheesy but just as heartfelt as they would in person.

once again

2007-12-28T11:47:00.000-08:00

Well, all my stuff is ready and compiled, except for my writing samples that I will print out at the Odegaard Library. At approximately 2:30 today I will have just turned in my application for the UW's English doctoral program. Here's hoping the English classes I took this summer and fall earn me some brownie points. They were quite fun/stimulating/freakin hard/yet interesting at the very least.

"blogging and blugging"

2007-12-10T11:26:00.001-08:00

Interesting article.

Religion and Tech?

2007-10-31T13:42:00.000-07:00

In Jerry Seinfeld's latest interview, he discloses how he used tenets of Scientology to improve his interpersonal communication and performance skills, going so far to say as "It's all technology."

In another article also posted today on msnbc, tech is used to create Jesus 2.0. The proliferation of Christian based, or faith based websites is being touted as shifting the way we worship.

Now I use a few websites myself for theological questions - enduringword.com being one. But does this really change the way I worship? I'm definitely getting more information, perhaps more quickly than in the past when I would have waited for an opportunity to talk to someone with expertise in the area I had questions about.

In the Jesus 2.0 article, this quote disturbed me, and really gets to the point of this post.

"Spark Networks spokeswoman Gail Laguna argues that religion has a real power to pull together a niche market online" (my emphasis).

Not addressed in this article is how these online sites are being funded. Pop up ads? Donations? Specific churches funding them? When Seinfeld took Scientology classes, how much did he have to pay for them.

I'm finding this recent conflation of technology and religion, all the while ignoring the undergirding economic forces, highly disturbing.

Slate.com has quite a few instances of this, albeit a bit more implicit. "Blogging the Bible" was quite popular on the front page for a few months. There was recently a bit of buzz concerning the man who lived every rule (really?) of the Bible for an entire year. Now, journalism, especially online journalism, is a bit trickier to unpack in terms of economics, besides the fact that journalists want to get paid. But in the case of the Biblical guinea pig, he had a book coming out describing his experiences.

letters

2007-10-23T09:40:00.000-07:00

In the past year and a half, three close friends moved to San Francisco, Kansas, and Singapore. Add to that my graduating around the same time and no longer having an excuse to foray from the Eastside over to Seattle = stalking friends on Facebook for information on their quotidian pastimes.

I love writing letters. I've asked various friends for their home addresses in the hopes of maintaining pen pal relationships with at least a few that have minutes to spend jotting down their life on paper. And I received my first return from that small effort yesterday. My one friend from Kansas wrote me a beautiful note (her handwriting is sooo much better than mine) and expressed her hopes that we could become even better friends through writing. I definitely think we can, but I asked myself why is it easier to maintain a friendship for some with letters, some with emails? Being in the letter department, which seems to be fast dying, I'm especially curious.

Now, my friend and I are both writers/Engl majors, and we both tend to like the idea of writing in general. The connotations of some old (now dead) British dude writing a classic fable by the hearth side with quill pen and ink on parchment hold infinitely more novel appeal for us than email.

How about Facebook? Well, the layout doesn't seem especially conducive to long letters about personal feelings, aspirations, hopes and dreams. One would have to use up half the page to equal the size of a normal hand written letter. Plus, the Wall is public, and messages are (possibly) checked by moderators.

Yet this whole tech thing isn't going away. What space do letters occupy in the era where we have both Facebook and pen and paper? (It was via Facebook that I got my friend's address) Hopefully the novelty of the letter will keep a few devoted people pushing through hand cramps in honor of this form of communication.

2007-09-26T11:56:00.001-07:00

Bald heads forgetful of their sins,
Old, learned, respectable bald heads
Edit and annotate the lines
That young men, tossing on their beds,
Rhymed out in love's despair
To flatter beauty's innocent ear.
All shuffle there; all cough in ink;
All wear the carpet with their shoes;
All think what other people think;
All know the man their neighbour knows.
Lord, what would they say
Did their Catullus walk that way?
In contrast is Barry Spacks' "Freshmen":
Full of certainties and reasons,
or uncertainties and reason,
full of reasons as a conch contains the sea,
they wait; for the term's first bell;
for another mismatched wrestle through the year;
for a teacher who's religious in his art,
a wizard of a sort, to call the role
and from mere names
cause people
to appear.
The best look like the swinging door
to the Opera just before
the Marx Brothers break through.
The worst -- debased,
on the back row,
as far as one can go
from speech --
are walls where childish scribbling's been erased;
are stones
to teach.
And I am paid to ask them questions:
Dare man proceed by need alone?
Did Esau like
his pottage?
Is any heart in order after Belsen?
And when one stops to think, I'll catch his heel,
put scissors to him, excavate his chest!
Watch, freshmen, for my words about the past
can make you turn your back. I wait to throw,
most foul, most foul, the future in your face.
~ William Butler Yeats

children's authors

2007-09-14T11:31:00.000-07:00

So, I've been on a kick of rereading my old books from childhood, partially inspired by my sister hauling them all up from the basement. I realized that I threw some of them out in the folly of youth, writing them off as too boring or "little kid" for me. Imagine my shock to find that some of them have been out of print for years, and that the classics of my youth are being replaced by Harry Potter wannabes.

When I was younger, Pippi Longstocking, The Rescuers, and The Cricket in Times Square taught me that imagination is wonderful, mice are resourceful, and cats like singing along with Slim Whitman. Good, silly, fun. Now the kids section of Barnes and Noble is filled with book after book about vampires, werewolves, magicians, and sorcerers. Is this necessarily a bad thing? No, I loved the Dealing with Dragons series when I was younger. But seriously, does a twelve year old girl need to be fantasizing about falling in love with a vampire, or a vampire/werewolf? Or whatever combo the authors of today will come up with next to sell paper?

There was only one copy of The Cricket, squelched in between multiple copies of the latest fad series.

If the writing was actually palatable, I might be able to look at this differently. But flipping through a few of these 'novels' reveals a liberal dose of melodrama and sensuality/violence in place of good writing.

There is another disturbing trend of the grade school author, most likely jumpstarted by the success of Eragon. Do I think young people should be encouraged to explore, create, and write? Yes. Do I think it should be published and held up as a standard of writing? No. Part of the reason we are so encouraged to read as kids is because reading helps us with our own writing and overall comprehension of the world. Twelve year olds should not be looking to twelve year old writing, but beyond.

2007-09-06T08:11:00.000-07:00

Keep your heart healthy.

2007-08-26T22:20:00.001-07:00

I'm missing something. I've taken dance for most of my life. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it now. Am I just supposed to teach, treat it as a great job during grad school? I want to choreograph more, and now that I'm getting older I want to perform. I was blessed with getting to perform at such amazing venues as The Paramount/Moore Theatres when I was younger. Standing ovations at age fourteen are pretty awesome things. I need to find where I am supposed to go from here in this interim year, but I'm not sure where to start.

2007-08-13T13:27:00.000-07:00

I have problems with anger. Not acting on it, no violence, but it's still there, simmering away in a stew of ressentiment. Now, another qualification, I've come a long ways in the last year. But it still comes out when I hear another student griping about how tough their life is, sometimes with good reason and sometimes not, and I realize that I'm thinking "But I've got it worse" or something similar. Which if you think about it, is really holding a grudge that I don't hold a grudge, which is kind of sick.

There were hints of this in childhood. Mom loves telling stories of how I'd push boys off the play sets if they gave me crap. I was a kid feminists would point to and label the future. I was a 2 yr old in bows and lace that could kick 4 yr old boys on their asses. I didn't need a man, or anyone else for that matter.

So, there were signs that I wasn't your average wilting flower, and I'm glad I still have some of that inner strength today. But I'm afraid that interior steel has been warped and twisted into one of those metal sculptures in front of an art museum that scare young children. I recognize that, and I am very glad that I recognize that, but it's still there. That thorn in my flesh is something that I will probably have to struggle with for years to come. Life has shaped me a certain way, and there's no point in bearing a chip on my shoulder because of it.

2007-08-10T14:24:00.000-07:00

- turned 22 on Monday. I liked being 21, honestly. If I could have stopped there for a little longer I would have. Hopefully this year will bring twice the growth and depth that last year did.

2007-07-31T13:51:00.000-07:00

Last night the moon was simply gorgeous

~

The moon is golden and full
Fringed with tufts of iron wool
Sliding down the muted cobalt sky

~

I find myself wondering if my Modernism professor would consider this to be presentational enough language to be considered modern. I might have to flesh it out to see if I can keep the imagery within the context of rhythm and rhyme.

2007-07-30T14:51:00.001-07:00

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?

~ T. S. Eliot
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

2007-07-20T00:25:00.000-07:00

Don McLean's American Pie came on the radio as I was driving home tonight - haven't heard it in years.

I had goosebumps all the rest of the ride home.

memory

2007-07-16T15:12:00.000-07:00

I remember the antique store where I found my copy of Franny and Zooey. There were three copies of the book scattered throughout the store. One was on a bookshelf downstairs, one in a pile of books upstairs, and one was tucked behind a teacup. A Surplus of Salinger.

~

I should make a list of books that I should read but I haven't because I've been scared away by various people's descriptions or horror stories of forced 10th grade reading.
The Grapes of Wrath
Finnegan's Wake
Moby Dick (read it when I was 8, but had absolutely no idea what the big deal was, except the whale seemed kind of scary and the captain seemed kind of nuts)
War and Peace

random pics

2007-07-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

Nathan's sis Stephanie and I at her graduation! Pretty kitty.

Lovely man.

That was a fun tree.

2007-06-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

For the week of July 2-8, I am an official poet.

musings

2007-06-27T15:48:00.000-07:00

Marissa Nadler - Mildly pretentious yet dreamy vocals that trill out of the back of her throat like silver-yellow smoke.

Also. Crinoline and tapioca are very good words.

2007-06-25T14:47:00.000-07:00

This man is right on. I might have to go back and delete certain posts, squashing past chest thumps, although they do serve as good reminders of my waxing and waning stupidity.

school days

2007-06-25T14:37:00.000-07:00

It feels weird being back at school. Don't get me wrong, the University of WA is gorgeous, especially in the summertime, but I'm still negotiating through the whole undergrad part of my life being closed, but not really (go post-bacs!) while waiting for the graduate school part to open.

Still, my Contemporary Novel class this term is quite fun, and hopefully Literary Modernism will be equally so.

I'm also hoping to get a project near and dear to my heart off the ground. I had to put off choreographing a dance last summer b/c of a surfeit of possible projects. In the end I chose to work with The Senate, which was an amazing experience, but I need to explore this now.
Pictures once it's completed, I promise.

eye contact

2007-06-13T11:02:00.000-07:00

I need to work on my avoidance, stretch my comfort zone. I've never been an especially gregarious person. I can fake it, and fake it well. And once I'm past an initial meeting and know more than the barest superficiality about a person, I'm fine.

But I'm not good if I'm thrown into a new situation with new people without any warning or preparation. That's when I say stupid things, come off as tired or a bit closed off. I just don't know what to say.

I need to work on this. Even though this is my fallback modus operandi, I don't think that is a legitimate excuse for not putting my best foot forward when interacting with my fellow human beings.

I really noticed this the other day when I was walking through a mall. I realized I've become quite talented at skimming over people's faces and focusing on store windows, floor tiles, ceiling fans. I don't mind eye contact in and of itself - I've been taught how to make respectful eye contact in various acting venues for the past decade. In a situation like this though, I need to stop being afraid of it. The world will not end if my eyes happen to meet someone's. Some people are even nice and smile. I need to be one of those types of people.

Folklife

2007-05-30T13:58:00.000-07:00

A couple of thoughts inspired by the mayhem that is Seattle Folklife.

1. Large, open spaces in the middle of large, crowded cities always have birds. Pigeons, sparrows, seagulls - there is always some sort of winged beastie ready for a handout. With the thousands of people crowded around Seattle Center, our feathered friends vacated the premises, leaving an avian-shaped void. I didn't realize how big of a void until I found myself throwing curly fries at the numerous dogs straining against their leashes. The dogs looked happy, the owners did not.

2. There are too many buskers. This year, there were rules in place about the various acts rotating spots to ensure everyone could perform. Even so, the surfeit of so-so elementary school violinists, giggling teenagers charging for or giving away hugs, and the musicians of varying talent and personal hygiene left me rolling my eyes more often than applauding. The yo-yo champion was cool though.

creation

2007-05-24T15:44:00.001-07:00

I wish there was a blogger for choreography. Given that dance is an art form so reliant on human bodies, it has thus been the most ineffable as far as trying to transfer it into computer code. Musicians have programs like Sonar. Painters have, well, Paint. But what do dancers have? (feel free to let me know if there's a program out there I'm missing).

I don't see solo dances in my head. And when I do, they are 99.8% of the time inextricably linked to a certain dancer, a certain body with all of its strengths and limitations. And I don't see choreography I can/would do on myself, either b/c 1. it's too far out of my capabilities, or 2. b/c I was inspired by someone who for whatever reason, is inaccessible.

I've tried writing it down. There have been several nights where I have forced myself out of that creative goldmine, the soft spot in between awake and sleep, and frantically tried to come up with ways to write down the freakishness in my head. Grande jetes from one side of a room to another? No problem to write down, which means of course that I never think of such simplistic movements.

Actual transcription from such a night three years ago:
R flick turn over, butterfly to over, Tenant of street movement up - another flick turn, right leg passe over, sissone in place.

This made sense at one point, but years and choreographic pieces have come and gone. Now I'm wondering "Flick turn where, to what direction? Upstage, downstage? is that a flick in, or a flick out? what leg was the sissone landing on?" Perhaps more importantly, who was I picturing when I thought of these steps? Did I have an emotional component in mind, under girding the movements?

It's interesting to come back and see how differently I can interpret something I created, but a bit dismaying at the same time.

2007-05-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

What do you call it when one piece of art inspires another? Say, a choreographer is struck by the way sunlight bounces off the curve of a sculpture, and then sets out to create the same sense of incandescent motion in a dance? Or a painter sees the same sculpture and abstracts the lines even further?

Who does the art then belong to? Who created it? The dance would not exist without the sculpture, and by that same token, the sculptor. It could be argued that this is hardly different than being inspired by life, but when one piece of art influences another, there is a more definite point of origin for the work/s.

Is this why the audience pays to see works of art? Not just because the starving artist deserves remuneration for their effort, but because the audience recognizes that they are taking away a piece of the artist himself?

2007-05-15T10:20:00.000-07:00

My cat can purr, meow, and yawn all at the same time - kind of like a happy gargle.

It would be quite an effective alarm if I could train her to come wake me up in the morning.

2007-05-11T12:26:00.000-07:00

Has the rain a father?
Or who has begotten the drops of dew?
From whose womb has come the ice?
And the frost of heaven, who has given it birth?
Water becomes hard like stone,
And the surface of the deep is imprisoned.

~Job 38:28-30

2007-05-07T11:44:00.000-07:00

I raise this green to my lips,
this muddy promise of leaves,
this forsworn earth,
mother of snowdrops and of every tree.
See how I'm blinded but strengthened,
surrendering to the least of the roots?
Are my eyes not blown out
by the exploding trees?
The little frogs are rolled up in their voices,
drops of mercury, huddled in a ball.
The twigs are turning into branches, and the fallow ground
is a mirage of milk.

Osip Mandelstam's "I raise this green to my lips ..." from "The Selected Poems of Osip Mandelstam," translated by Clarence Brown and W.S. Merwin. New York Review of Books. Translation copyright 1973 by Clarence Brown and W.S. Merwin

2007-04-23T11:43:00.001-07:00

I love the show So you Think you can Dance. I was and am an ardent fan. I applaud the show's creators for introducing the 18-35 demographic to ballroom and other forms of dance in a more credible fashion than Dancing with the Stars.

However, since the show's blast to popularity, the already crumbling study of dance history has been even further eroded.

One of the most popular categories on the show was Contemporary. It was apparent that Contemporary was a substitute lable for Modern; a label that connoted gay males in shiny unitards, or people wailing about social injustice while covered in glitter. Whatever the stereotype, Modern was clearly weird. Too weird for a mainstream station like Fox. So the label Contemporary was coined, and Modern dance was covertly introduced to millions of viewers.

So what's the problem? After all, Modern dance is an often disputed term in itself, with boundaries in constant flux. It is often explained as "everything that isn't ballet and jazz." Even within this category - Are you a Modern dancer? Postmodern? A ballet dancer that does Modernist choreography?

The catchall medium.

But this is wrong. Modern dance is fully of creative entrepreneurs and imaginaries that still influence Modern dance technique.
One of the most famous names in Modern is Martha Graham. Known for deep abdominal contractions and darkly emotional works, almost all, if not all Modern dancers are influenced by her, whether by using her technique or by refusing to.

Google Jose Limon, Alvin Ailey, Merce Cunningham. These are just a few more names in the Modern dance spectrum.

Can I blame the show SYTYCD for causing the lack of knowledge of dance history, especially among young dancers? No, not entirely.

But ever since the show took off, there has been an highly unusual upsurge of interest in Modern dance at dance competitions and studios. At recent competitions, there have been three times as many Modern entries as in the past two years.

So what's the problem? The problem is that these dances did not show any signs of any Modern technique. Cunningham austerity of line and Balletic vocabulary? No. Graham contractions and extensions of the legs? No. Stylized arms of Ailey? No. Use of extensive floor rolls, handstands, and releases as in release work? No.

The real problem is that dance competitions are inherently segregated. The Jazz dances with ten billion turns and kicks to the ear are over here, while the histrionic flailing of Lyrical belongs over here. Anything that falls outside of these lines is penalized with not as high of a score. And no matter how many times we say otherwise, competitions are about winning.
So, now that Contemporary is acceptable as something just a smidge different than Jazz/Lyrical - maybe arms will be bent instead of straight, a foot will be flexed instead of pointed - the Modern dance category has become the catchall for these slightly quirky but not Modern dances.

How then are dance competitions actually encouraging creativity, teamwork, maturity? If they are all about the tricks, so much so that creativity is either penalized or shuffled into the Modern category as something deviant, what are we teaching this upcoming generation of dancers?

It doesn't help that most of the dancers on SYTYCD were all former competition kids themselves. I don't think the young dancer audience will realize how hard the show's choreographers worked to get competition habits out of all of the contestants. I am afraid that this generation has no idea why they do what they do.

Without history, what does an artform become?

2007-04-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

The opposite of hate is often called love, but love can be selfish and one-sided. In situations like this horrendous massacre at Virginia Tech, it seems like a truer antithesis to hate would be caring.

Caring involves giving something of yourself, which is supposed to be true of love as well. However the entity that is love has gotten melted down and pureed in the media machine, resulting in shows that poke fun at the institution of marriage with the bitchy wife and stupid husband, or the over-caffienated, over-sponsored romance machines like the Bachelor.

So I guess the true opposite of hate is love that involves caring, giving, sacrificing - putting someone's needs above your own rather than seeing what you can get out of the relationship.

Care for someone today.

2007-04-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

For man is born for trouble,
As surely as sparks fly upward

~Job 5:7

Sick

2007-04-06T16:50:00.000-07:00

My cat was no longer a comfort to my weary body as she lay at the foot of my bed, her bulbous bulk pressing against my sweating ankles. Her 16 pounds are formidable on a good night, but the oozing pressure of lard, flesh, and fur was surely going to quicken my impending death by fever and stuffy nose.

I moved my legs away from the unrelenting pressure. An irritated yowl, followed by a noise from my cat's throat that could only be interpreted by a sane person as a death threat, reminded me of my precarious position as 'owner.' I tried not to move for the rest of the night.
~
Morning came. My cramped legs stretched tentatively. Blush was no longer there, lured away by the promise of food and a sunny back porch for bird watching.

My feet somehow found the floor. The Pergo was cold and a bit sticky from the morning humidity. It felt good, as long as I didn't try to walk. Then my inner ear showed its anger, its vengeance on me for catching such a vile virus, as fluid shifted and I found myself swaying towards my mattress and all the comfort that it entailed. Just a few more hours of sleep.

But no, there were things to do this morning. I pressed on, bending over and touching the pale floor with slightly bent knees. I straightened them to a symphony of popping.

A wriggle of my hips. Pop.

A few more plies and straightenings. Pop, snap... crackle.

Roll up through the back and the resistant neck. Big pop.

Now prepared, I slowly journeyed towards the oncoming day, the flesh of my thighs feeling like loosely attached jello swinging about my femurs.

The couch. Under normal circumstances, an ordinary piece of furniture. A lovely if unassuming forest green, as usual as a chenille couch could be.
Ah, but today, this couch was more that an upgrade from Ikea. Today, this couch would be my helpmate, my strength. I would find the inner resistance to the loathsome bacteria consuming my body and defeat it soundly. I would get all of my reading done, two books before lunchtime. There would be time and energy to do stomach exercises and further stretch my aching body. Fever be damned! The couch and I would defeat any obstacle!

Meooooooow.

I looked down. Blush lay there beside the couch, her tail flicking towards me then away, petulance in every movement.

"Oh Blush." My words came out somewhat slurred.

With a launch of her swaying haunches, she settled none too gracefully on my chest and settled in for a nap.

Birthday

2007-04-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

My sister Angela turns 16 tomorrow.

My goodness, she's been tormenting and delighting me for the past 16 years!!!!!!

Anyways, I managed to surprise her this morning with a limo ride and lunch/dessert with a few friends. (Our very friendly limo drive is standing in the back). I don't think I've seen Angela that blissed out in a looooong time.

Lunch at Arnie's in Edmonds was spectacular! They gave us complementary sticky buns before serving our decadent desserts.
I am very glad I was able to make Angela this happy.

2007-03-22T10:29:00.000-07:00

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him, and will dine with him, and he with me.
~ Revelations 4:20

2007-03-20T12:16:00.000-07:00

THE STARE'S NEST BY MY WINDOW
The bees build in the crevices
Of loosening masonry, and there
The mother birds bring grubs and flies.
My wall is loosening; honey-bees,
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
We are closed in, and the key is turned
On our uncertainty; somewhere
A man is killed, or a house burned,
Yet no clear fact to be discerned:
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
A barricade of stone or of wood;
Some fourteen days of civil war;
Last night they trundled down the road
That dead young soldier in his blood:
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
We had fed the heart on fantasies,
The heart's grown brutal from the fare;
More substance in our enmities
Than in our love; O honey-bees,
Come build in the empty house of the stare.

~William Butler Yeats

Could this be me in a few years?

2007-03-17T23:58:00.000-07:00

Hence, the academic grappling with his computer, ceaselessly correcting, reworking, and complexifying, turning the exercise into a kind of interminable psychoanalysis, memorizing everything in an effort to escape the final outcome, to delay the day of reckoning with death, and that other—fatal—moment of reckoning that is writing, by forming an endless feed-back loop with machine. ~ Jean Baudrillard

possibly...

waiting...

2007-03-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

After a slightly impatient but cordially worded email to the UW's English graduate office regarding my application, I received a return missive that read
"You should hear from us within 2-3 weeks."

Urgh.

2007-03-14T11:46:00.000-07:00

No one pretends that the works of Dumas are high literature, or that he stands up to comparison with Balzac, Hugo, Stendhal, or Flaubert. Nothing in his books encourages reflection, or forces recognition, or sounds significant depths. On the other hand, he had a genius for giving pleasure, and for ensnaring the attention of the reader. Once past the initial rumblings of his machinery, his books move into high gear and do not quit; to adapt a phrase applied to another writer, it is harder to stop reading his books than it is to start them.

~ Luc Sante, foreward to The Count of Monte Cristo

W.H. Auden

2007-03-07T10:24:00.000-08:00

The piers are pummelled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.
Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the Fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns.
Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend.
Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extol the Ancient Disciplines,
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay.
Caesar's double-bed is warm
As an unimportant clerk
Writes I DO NOT LIKE MY WORK
On a pink official form.
Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds with scarlet legs,
Sitting on their speckled eggs,
Eye each flu-infected city.
Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast

"The Fall of Rome" appears in "W.H. Auden: Collected Poems," edited by Edward Mendelson. Modern Library. Copyright 2007 (and also 1976, 1991, 2007 by the Estate of W.H. Auden).

Facebook

2007-03-02T22:55:00.000-08:00

Despite seeing numerous peers and profs laud Facebook, I did not hitch my online trailer to this communications phenomenon until months after I graduated from college. I like to think my subconcious was exercising wisdom far beyond my normal means, recognizing the timewasting possibilities of hyperlinking through the entire student body at the University of Washington. After I graduated, losing a part of my identity and social network (@ least until grad school), the voyeuristic pleasures of Facebook began to be revealed.

In all seriousness, I have finally edited my profile a bit, added a pic, added a few friends. But what interests me more than the networking aspect is how this online presence relies on a 'physical' vocabulary.

poking - even the Facebook creators don't really seem to know what this function is for besides alerting someone else of your existence. Sort of like IMing someone with just a smiley - no explicit message except "I still exist, and I want you to know it." Still, it's interesting that a term so laden with the muscle memory of 'poking' people, a very physical intention, is used
the Wall - immovable, impenetrable, a barrier, blocking the sightline - words that might be associated with this word so rich in metaphor. It's interesting that users essentially 'tag' each others wall with short, sometimes goofy/crude messages - graffiti for the artistically challenged - thus altering the word's meaning from that of an obstacle to a mutable, responsive pattern of question/response.

Another aspect I find interesting is how the photos are used. I understand having a photo on the profile page, but having one next to every single message can be a bit excessive sometimes. I wonder if the pictures next to the textual message are supposed to help create a sense of physical presence, to make the message resonate more like a spoken conversation. Words leaving my mind, flying through my frenetic fingers, disassembling and reassembling through wires, circuits, and sparks, before finally splatting against the intended Wall.

grace

2007-02-20T12:44:00.000-08:00

Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin gratia favor, charm, thanks, from gratus pleasing, grateful; akin to Sanskrit grnAti he praises

1 a : unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification b : a virtue coming from God c : a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace

2 a : APPROVAL, FAVOR b archaic : MERCY, PARDON c : a special favor : PRIVILEGE d : disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency e : a temporary exemption : REPRIEVE

3 a : a charming or attractive trait or characteristic b : a pleasing appearance or effect : CHARM c : ease and suppleness of movement or bearing

4 -- used as a title of address or reference for a duke, a duchess, or an archbishop

5 : a short prayer at a meal asking a blessing or giving thanks

6 plural, capitalized : three sister goddesses in Greek mythology who are the givers of charm and beauty

7 : a musical trill, turn, or appoggiatura

8 a : sense of propriety or right b : the quality or state of being considerate or thoughtful

Synonym - Mercy

a grace note
a state of grace
saying grace
being gracious

"In life as in dance: Grace glides on blistered feet" - Alice Abrams

Golden Gardens 2007

2007-02-10T00:34:00.000-08:00

Nathan Cute Duck
Nathan
Me

Old pictures

2007-02-04T00:52:00.000-08:00

I just dug these pictures out of my hard drive a few days ago. This last summer, I had the very good fortune of snagging the amazing band The Senate as well as six amazing dancers for a collaborative dance/performance piece. We're submitting to Bumbershoot next week, which hopefully means we'll be coming to a Seattle stage come Labor day weekend.

2007-02-03T08:38:00.000-08:00

Another great cartoon.

2007-01-25T15:40:00.000-08:00

You're cinematic razor sharp
A welcome arrow through the heart
Under your skin feels like home
Electric shocks on aching bones

Snow Patrol, "You're all I Have"

Still not quite sure why these four lines get to me, but they do.

Last night at work,

2007-01-20T22:47:00.000-08:00

I sat across the table from an impossibly smart six yr old, one whose loquacity and wit made me question the importance of my intellect.

"How old are you?" I asked with a grin.
She was terribly cute, with big, brown mouse eyes.

"I'm six!" She responded.
"And I'm in first grade, and my sister, who's just four, is in Pre-K! And my birthday is March 25th!"
The sentence was ended with a gap-toothed grin.

Earlier, I was momentarily thrown by a seven yr old asking me for the proper spelling of homophones. Finding opposites was an all right pastime, but the appeal of finding such matches as "scene" and "seen" transported young Jacklyn into a unmatchable euphoria.

It's somewhat humbling to realize that I am tutoring children with IQ's that could potentially far surpass mine, given enough room, support, and inspiration to bloom.

Belief

2007-01-18T13:25:00.000-08:00

Belief is a beautiful armor
But makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching under water
You can never hit who you're trying for

John Mayer, "Belief"

Salinger

2007-01-16T15:08:00.000-08:00

An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.
Franny and Zooey, J.D. Salinger

It's cold outside

2007-01-12T15:06:00.000-08:00

24 degrees F in fact. The fact that I live on a very steep hill, thus making it impossible for me to go anywhere, is greatly lessening my love affair with snow and ice.

A blessing in disguise I suppose. I have a chest-high stack of books I've been making progress through. The last books I read were Camera Lucida by Barthes, Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome, and Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Mid-century semiotics to post WWII sci-fi.

I'm hoping to continue the eclecticness this weekend with The Book of Imaginary Beings by Borges and Franny and Zooey by Salinger.

engagement part 2

2007-01-09T16:31:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture from this summer when we were at his sister's wedding.

I think perhaps God was trying to tell us something, as we ended up at three weddings within four months of meeting each other!

engagement part 1

2007-01-06T10:23:00.000-08:00

I am now very happily engaged to a very wonderful man.

Exclamation points just don't seem very adequate to express the mix of emotions I am feeling right now.

But I am very, very, very, extremely, incredibly, superbly happy.

Pictures in next post.

cartoons

2007-01-02T13:16:00.000-08:00

I find it sad that cartoonists, masters of mockery with a side of keen social commentary, are so spot on with their images of Darfur.

Photos

2006-12-26T21:58:00.000-08:00

"I call "photographic referent" not the optionally real thing to which an image or a sign refers but the necessarily real thing which has been placed before the lens, without which there would be no photograph. Painting can feign reality without having seen it. Discourse combines signs which have referents, of course, but these referents can be and are most often "chimeras." Contrary to these imitations, in Photography I can never deny that the thing has been there. There is a superimposition here: of reality and of the past. And since this constraint exists only for Photography, we must consider it, by reduction, as the very essence, the noeme of Photography. What I intentionalize in a photograph (we are not yet speaking of film) is neither Art nor Communication, it is Reference, which is the founding order ot Photography. " - Roland Barthes, Camera Lucida

I wonder what Barthes would have thought of our super mediated society. There is perhaps no more ubiquitous form of communication, his Reference, than pictures, and to a large extant photography.

"it has been here, and yet immediately separated; it has been absolutely, irrefutably present, and yet already deferred"

The it in photography is not real in our current sense of thinking. We can't reach out towards the newspaper and touch the fighters in Iraq, our fingers coming back bloodied and sandy. Yet photography is often, sometimes unconciously, perceived as the grounding of a news story. A story's credability can be seriously affected by the lack of a photo, or the presence of an inferior one.

If one is to look at photos through a Barthian lens, the importance of photography then becomes multiplied tenfold. The photo as a point of reference, a represenatation of History. We were not there, History is where we are not, but the photo can be/is a direct link to the reality under discussion. There has to have been something there for the photograph to exist.

Photoshop aside, as Barthes was discussing pure, real photography, Photos are not given serious enough consideration anymore. Webcams and live video streams via overheated laptops and overworked cameramen are the norm. But Photography is still here, perhaps because reality needs Reference to maintain its identity.

16 pounds of fur covered Christmas cheer

2006-12-23T13:33:00.000-08:00

Dancing my little heart out

2006-12-12T00:06:00.000-08:00

Tonight I took a master jazz/contemporary/hip-hop class by Travis and Ivan, best known for being finalists on the show So You Think You Can Dance.

My sis got herself great pics with both of the guys

Here's Travis

And Ivan

The class itself was great - Travis' intricate choreography infused with Ivan's bold street style was an absolute blast to learn. The dance was not only physically demanding, but there was no room for zoning out at all. The music was a tricky mix of cowbell (no joke), bass, guitar, and percussive beats, and we were supposed to accent all of the above. The bar was also set high from watching Travis and Ivan perform the choreography flawlessly, with enough style to light up Times Square.

If I were to find any negative thoughts about the class, they would all have to do with the other students. With over 90 students in the one studio, space was cramped. That's all well and fine - pros in LA and New York face similar class packouts all the time. It was the unprofessional attitude of the majority of the other students that made it hard to completely enjoy the class.

Because Ivan and Travis were such huge draws, students came from all over the Puget Sound. Bellevue, Issaquah, Redmond, Seattle, Everett, etc... One would think that young pre-professionals would be grateful, thankful for the chance to take class with such amazing teachers. One would think that these students would be respectful of others in the crowded classroom. One would at least think that these students would not have to be told sixteen or seventeen (no exagerration) times (nicely) to quit talking.

One would think.

But one would have thought wrong.

People here in the Northwest complain about our rather limited dance scene, especially when it comes to more mainstream offerings such as jazz and hip-hop. It seems extremely counterintuitive to present one's self as someone who is a. disrespectful of basic class etiquette, and b. someone that must be deaf, as that's the only possible explanation for not listening to a guest teacher pleading for quiet.

Not to mention that many of these girls were wearing the team jackets of their home studios. I fail to see how causing the guest teachers to become visibly agitated b/c of the ceaseless chatter is good PR for one's dance school. And the dance world is very, very, very small.

I found myself writing off much of the behavior to the students' ages, their displayed socioeconomic class, their hair color... the reasons becoming even more vapid then their behavior as the class journeyed on, until I finally hit on the realization that ultimately, it is the dance school's responsibility, every dance school's responsibility to train their students not just in technique, but in how to present one's self responsibly and respectfully. Sadly, it appears that this is not happening nearly enough.

I hope that if Travis and Ivan weren't completely scared away and do come back to Seattle, that there will have been a paradigm shift, a moving of perspective, that makes the students shut up and dance, showing respect for two amazing artists and dancers.

En L'air

2006-12-03T22:10:00.000-08:00

Home from a two-day run of En L'air, a benefit show for Ashley House.
Good show all around, and great energy from the audience.
Broadway Performance Hall is also always fun. Capitol Hill has so much artistic energy floating around - inspiration strikes just walking to the theatre.
As I was just in one piece, I had plenty of time to people watch and observe what I am usually in the thick of during more hectic shows.
1. People like being insular. While it is true that one gets to know the people in their own dance the best, it is still striking that everyone (myself included) tends to stay within invisible boundaries, separating 'us' from 'them'.
2. If one violates the above boundaries and *gasp* tries to talk or sit next to someone outside of their dance, he or she is met with resistance. No rudeness or yelling, but a definite coldness. "You aren't in my piece, why are you talking to me?" is the subtext.
3. The poor people that are in more than one piece spend their backstage time frantically running back and forth between dressing room locations, trying to insure they haven't ignored anyone important at any and all check points.
4. Everyone leaves as soon as humanly possible once the show is done. The dressing room was empty about two minutes after the curtains closed.

I'm sure there is some deep, metaphorical comparison to be drawn between backstage life and real life - the need for structure, resistance to change, reluctance to step out of one's interpersonal safety zone, but I'm too much in that weirdtiredheadfloatylightsdizzyreallytiredmode right now to flesh it out any further.

Snow!

2006-11-27T10:50:00.000-08:00

I can't remember the last time we had snow around Thanksgiving. We got a good 2-3 inches too. Last I heard Lake Stevens got 6 and was expecting 3 more!

I don't know who won...

Angela looks completely blissed out

This year

2006-11-26T02:35:00.000-08:00

I have much to be thankful for. This is a bit belated, but nonetheless true.

Mom
Angela
Nathan
my faith
my students
my art
my future in grad school (hopefully)
the fact that I now look at the light side of things instead of always the dark
my teachers
Jessica
yams and peaches
the fact that in spite of everything wrong with this country and the messed up people in it, I have the freedom to pursue my religion, my dream of working in academia, my artistic endeavors, without major reprisal

I have let go of a lot of the bad this year and embraced a lot of the good.

I am very thankful for that.

What can we say?

2006-11-17T14:56:00.000-08:00

The fight about whether or not Americans are spoiled could go back and forth all day, with much vacillation b/n different ideas about wealth, comfort, luxury, cultural context, etc...

One thing is for certain though. We have never experienced this level of atrocity. I hope this level of cruelty and psychopathic action never comes to the U.S. But another part of me wonders how any of us here, in our relatively sheltered communities, can ever understand the full scope of horror these women have faced. Can we? The cultural differences, the language barriers, the different societal hierarchies; how can we fight through these and reach out to our fellow human beings?

Why aren't we? Why are these horrible practices just now starting to hit mainstream sources like Newsweek? And why is the gritty truth only revealed in a web exclusive? Are the people who choose paper over pixels somehow unable to handle the verity of such a situation?

What is it in human nature that makes us close our eyes, stop our ears, hold our mouths shut?

I will never give up my books.

2006-11-13T08:51:00.000-08:00

With America's literacy rates plunging down the tubes, I can see how an article like this, http://msnbc.msn.com/id/14823087/?GT1=8717 , could be conceived, and perhaps even be carried to fruition on the msnbc homepage. However, my strict emotional reaction to the above, was "WHAAAAAAAAA?"

Seriously though, this feels very much like a GRE writing topic that gets bandied about a lot.
"Instead of requiring students to take courses in a variety of disciplines—that is, courses ranging from the arts and the humanities to the physical and biological sciences—colleges and universities should allow students to enroll only in those courses that will help prepare them for jobs in their chosen fields. Such concentration is necessary in today's increasingly work-oriented society"

Baby out with the bathwater anyone? Yes, finding a vocation is important. And yes, there might be a surplus of jobs in today's technologically mediated society that do not require expository skills. But to say that reading should be treated as a luxury, something extra, is too extreme of a view.

From the article - "But just as every citizen is not forcibly trained to enjoy classical music, neither should they be coerced into believing that reading is necessarily pleasurable. For the majority of students, reading and writing are difficult enterprises with limited payoffs in the modern world."

This was a telling passage for me. Here, reading is equated with music, a form of art. Art is severely underfunded in our educational system. Someone arguing against funding arts programs could merely switch out "reading and writing" in the 2nd sentence with painting, modern dance, ballroom, etc... Music/Dance/Visual Art programs are receiving less and less money every year. Are literary classes going to head down this route as well? I sincerely and fervently hope not.

We need the arts, and that includes reading and writing of all sorts. People joke about going to college b/c they don't know what they're going to do with their lives. I have so many friends who were in that boat, until they read something amazing in college that opened up new intellectual vistas. Yours truly now wishes to be an English professor, something that wouldn't have even crossed my mind before the boatloads of reading in college.

I could see one arguing that reading could still be considered a luxury, something for intelligensia/academics. But that standpoint completely disregards the enriching effect that reading has. So if reading is a luxury, it should be one that we strive for continuously.

Chaucer

2006-11-08T10:32:00.000-08:00

When in April the sweet showers fall
And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all
The veins are bathed in liquor of such power
As brings about the engendering of the flower
When also Zephyrus with his sweet breath
Exhales an air in every grove and heath
Upon the tender shoots, and the young sun
His half-course in the sign of the Ram has run,
And the small fowl are making melody
That sleep away the night with open eye
(So nature pricks them and their heart engages)
Then people long to go on pilgrimages
And palmers long to seek the stranger strands
Of far-off saints, hallowed in sundry lands,
And specially, from every shire's end
In England, down to Canterbury they wend

Chaucer really was a timeless author. When rereading The Canterbury Tales, it's amazing how much of his discerning witticisms hide a deeper moral truth that is still relevant today. It's also a bit sad that he is still so relevant, as that means human foibles haven't really changed since the 1300s.

Mr. Blunt, 06

2006-11-07T01:30:00.000-08:00

I'm not quite sure what or how exactly I feel about the James Blunt concert that occurred roughly four hours ago. This man is so darn talented, and he knows how to go for the jugular with heart-wrenching genuineness, but that makes it all the more disappointing when he falls back into the jaws of media legerdemain.

But let's start at the beginning. Starsailor was an absolutely fabulous opening act. They found an irrepressible source of energy that actually surpasses the versions on their album "On the Outside". James Walsh's burnt sugar voice belted out in a manner that threatened to crack a few ribs in his skinny frame, nicely accented by the band's heavily rhythmic sound. He was the only one of the band that said anything, and he kept the adlib to a minimum, letting the powerful music speak for itself. The band as a whole was lacking a bit of charisma, but given that they had just finished an earlier show at the Crocodile Cafe, they have a valid excuse for being a bit bushed. Because of the lack of chit chat, the songs often blurred together. At one point I realized that they had changed songs a few minutes before, and I hadn't noticed. This is a band that never met a 4/4 tempo they didn't like, but Walsh's voice had enough grit and flavor to keep the audience interested. It will be curious to see if this exposure gives them the push they need to become more recognized in the mainstream. Their single "In the Crossfire" has gotten some playtime, but this is a band that definitely deserves more recognition.

After a very, very long soundcheck, during which several people drifted in late (and the place still wasn't full?), James Blunt and his band took the stage. In true rock star style, Blunt ran on with the typical wide-eyed-on-caffiene-and-something-else-possibly expression and proceeded to groove on the first of many new songs. He's kept the blues tinged rhythms that make Bedlam more than the sum of his first single, but lyrically, it seems he's headed into a jaded area of his creative mind with lines like "Scratch that mild skin/Wasting time like it just doesn't matter very much/So we're happy for the company."

In spite of that cynical start, Blunt jetted through all of the songs from "Back to Bedlam" plus a few new audience pleasers, such as a surprisingly slick cover of Supertramp's "Breakfast in America." Other unreleased singles included "Annie," an exceedingly dry commentary on fame and fortune, or the lack of it, "I can't hear the music," and "1973," where I swear he was channeling a younger Elton John. "I Really Want You" was a tale of love and loss that somehow avoided melodrama in spite of lyrics that look incredibly trite in text - "Wasted time on the silver shores of paradise/Can I come in from the cold?/Killed a man in a faraway land."

There were also some beautiful moments in the Bedlam set. "Tears and Rain" was a standout. Mr. Blunt, front and center stage in a lone spotlight, guitar loosely slung around his waist with his hand lightly gripping the neck, singing his heart out as the piano riffled mellifluously.

So, musically the night was spot on. Even Blunt's obvious voice fatigue lent itself to an organic feel as the night grew long. But it is precisely that organicness, that inexplictly stated but nonetheless present artistic morality, that resulted in the concert feeling uneven. Known for his former military career in Kosovo and strong political/moral stances (the trailer for An Inconvenient Truth was played right before he started), Blunt has built himself an image as the sensitive guy next door that not only cares about world issues and can really sing but can also probably kill you with his ring finger. The concert really hit home tonight how much of that is image, showmanship, and very good PR.
The best example of this was when he played his pathos-packed "No Bravery," which no matter how you slice it, is unsympathetic towards the killing of civilians for the sake of war, any war. He gave a little disclaimer before he started about how short our collective memories really are, and that when he went back to Kosovo a few months ago, nothing had really improved since this issue was the media's favorite poster child. Then as he played the song, appearing to mean every word and every note, personal footage of the carnage and orphans was projected on the backdrop. There was utter quiet, even during the soft instrumental parts. For a few brief moments, there were no "Marry me James" yells or other foolish catcalls. The audience was absorbed in his haunting experience with human cruelty and misery, and it was a powerful absorbtion.
Yet, mere moments after finishing, Blunt grabbed his guitar and started a peppy instrumental that would quickly segue into "By the Sea." The too quick transition reminded me of the "Now This" phenomenon in news broadcasts - Oh look at the refugees in Darfur, how depressing. Now this commercial for Clorox!
I understand that social commentary doesn't sell the boatloads of tickets that being a cute Brit with decent teeth does, but that transition undermined everything he was trying to say about the shortness of our memory. It would have been great, nay, mind-blowing, if instead of ending the concert with the sappy "You're Beautiful," he had taken the road never traveled and ended by giving the audience a hard dose of reality to think about on the way home.

Disclaimer

2006-11-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

Although nothing will ever truly replace the tactile pleasures of pen and paper, I have decided to step outside of my usual journalistic habits with the creation of this blog. This will contain mostly reviews, but as my life often becomes too busy to prevent me from seeing anything worth reviewing, there might be a few thoughts on random dead/alive poets, authors, actors/actresses, activists, artists, amazing people, and their subsequent works.

Disclaimer start: I do not claim to be unbiased, although my subconcious often pretends to be on paper or pixel screen. /end disclaimer.