Sunday, October 21, 2007
Playing Catch-Up
Golly! I've been away for days. During that time, I've been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies, which I will deliver on in another post, my family and I have helped a friend move, I've gone to work, I've read more stories in "Logorrhea," I've checked Jeffrey Eugenides' book "Middlesex" out of the library, I've almost finished knitting a bath mitt, and I've gotten my new issue of Wired magazine in the mail. Such a useful magazine, Wired is. There's not a single issue wherein I haven't learned something. Since their redesign, they've made it a point to publish even more letters from readers, which I appreciate. Hey, there are some experts out here! I just wish I knew who wrote the smart-ass intros that lead off reader letters.
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
Labels: family, french, friend, jeffrey eugenides, knit whimsies, knitting, logorrhea, middlesex, minnesota, mom, portland, rain, seattle, snow, weather, wired magazine
Friday, October 05, 2007
Minnesota News
Just found a couple of pieces of Minnesota news on Reddit. Both have wider implications. I'll let you read them and form your own judgments. (Of course, that's not gonna stop me from having an opinion.)
National Guard Troops Denied Benefits After Longest Deployment of Iraq War - The soldiers' orders were written for service one day short of that needed to get full benefits. After reading this, tell me that our President and this White House Administration supports our troops.
24 Illegal Song Downloads Cost U.S. Woman 220,000 - The "U.S. Woman" was actually a Minnesota woman and she lost in her court battle against the Recording Industry of America. I think it's time we support musicians who work outside of the mega-music recording and publishing industry.
National Guard Troops Denied Benefits After Longest Deployment of Iraq War - The soldiers' orders were written for service one day short of that needed to get full benefits. After reading this, tell me that our President and this White House Administration supports our troops.
24 Illegal Song Downloads Cost U.S. Woman 220,000 - The "U.S. Woman" was actually a Minnesota woman and she lost in her court battle against the Recording Industry of America. I think it's time we support musicians who work outside of the mega-music recording and publishing industry.
Labels: illegal downloads, iraq war, minnesota, music, national guard, reddit
Monday, October 01, 2007
False Familiarity
Last night my husband and I had a grand opportunity. We met several people from a chat forum my husband participates in. Because I don’t participate in this chat, other than to read over my husband’s shoulder periodically, or listen as he mentions bits of the conversation, I had no preconceived notions of what people would be like based upon their screen names or what they wrote.
Labels: africa, blog, fiction, husband, immigration, minnesota, online chat, people, red
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The Voice in My Head
There are days when I feel like a head case - like I'm living solely in a mental realm without any real connection to the physical. Days when I'm having long conversations with the voice in my head. (Notice I said 'voice,' not 'voices.' There's only one in there and it's all me, baby.) I tend to slip into the mental realm when I've been on the computer too much, or when I'm tired. I was in that space yesterday, and started there today. I become aware of the sensation after a while because I start feeling off balance. There's nothing like a physical, deal-with-me-now emergency to pull me back out. Buckets of rain water to remove from a basement. What fun.
While I was thinking of the interplay between the mental and physical realms, I realized that when I was a young adult, I thought I was a very mental person, like I could live in my head and be very happy there. I was mistaken. I've never been completely mental. And I've also very much enjoyed the physical all the way along. I took gymnastics as a kid, and still enjoy dancing. As an artist, I'm drawn to creating images of the human body. Bone studies are a kick. At one time I thought I might become a naturopath and I love studying anatomy, physiology, and medicine. When it comes to writing, my stories are peppered with human physicality. (My Greenville stories have quite a number of bathroom scenes.) I'm especially interested in how the body betrays humans. There's no escaping it, this vehicle of the mental. It's how our souls play with the world.
While I was thinking of the interplay between the mental and physical realms, I realized that when I was a young adult, I thought I was a very mental person, like I could live in my head and be very happy there. I was mistaken. I've never been completely mental. And I've also very much enjoyed the physical all the way along. I took gymnastics as a kid, and still enjoy dancing. As an artist, I'm drawn to creating images of the human body. Bone studies are a kick. At one time I thought I might become a naturopath and I love studying anatomy, physiology, and medicine. When it comes to writing, my stories are peppered with human physicality. (My Greenville stories have quite a number of bathroom scenes.) I'm especially interested in how the body betrays humans. There's no escaping it, this vehicle of the mental. It's how our souls play with the world.
Labels: art, body, greenville, human being, mental, minnesota, physical, rain, weather, writing
Monday, September 17, 2007
Evaporation of Intimidation
During the last session of the museum conference, which happened on Saturday morning, I met Greg Britton, the director of the Minnesota Historical Society Press (MHS Press). The session was on building a publishing enterprise within a historical society. MHS Press puts out some gorgeous books and I'd link to their site online, but I'm getting an error when I attempt it, so I'll just link to MHS' home page instead. Anyway, they create fab books and here was the director, so I was intimidated. No idea why, really, but I sucked it up and went to meet Mr. Britton after the session was over. I had a couple of technical questions, which probably sounded lame, but I asked anyway, shaking in my shoes the whole time.
Then came time for the awards banquet and a bunch of us Minnesotans had agreed to meet outside the Grand Ballroom ahead of time. And, who should I see, but Greg Britton. I was on the verge of feeling intimidated again and then he said something about wishing he could attend the Dave Matthews Band concert that night, and suddenly the feeling of intimidation evaporated. A small commonality was all it took.
Then came time for the awards banquet and a bunch of us Minnesotans had agreed to meet outside the Grand Ballroom ahead of time. And, who should I see, but Greg Britton. I was on the verge of feeling intimidated again and then he said something about wishing he could attend the Dave Matthews Band concert that night, and suddenly the feeling of intimidation evaporated. A small commonality was all it took.
Labels: atlanta, books, dave matthews band, dmb, greg britton, minnesota, minnesota historical society press, publishing
The Wedding
We're back. Jeez, that's starting to be a regular sentence here at Filter & Splice. We're back. This time from my sister's wedding. She married the guy she's been living with for the past six years, which is quite something because she was never going to get married again after her first. This guy, my new brother-in-law, is totally a keeper. Sweet with my sister, fun to talk to, a real gem. We've actually had trouble calling him my sister's boyfriend over the years because he has seemed like our brother-in-law for all that time.
It's finally official, but not without some chaos first. My sister had a plan - at least I'm pretty sure she did - but she didn't communicate it to anyone prior to the wedding. Where do the tents go? How do you want them arranged? How about the table and chairs? The table for the unity candle? What time are pictures again? Where do you want the grill for the pig? The food tables? When are we eating? Are we eating? Some of us simply had to take charge and get things done. To complicate things, it was extraordinarily windy and cold that day. The bridesmaids (including me) were dressed in sleeveless gowns and we were goose-pimply and teeth-chattery.
My sister and her youngest daughter left to have their hair and makeup done on Saturday morning and didn't return until about noon. The wedding was scheduled for 2 o'clock. We had to figure all of this stuff out, plus get dressed in about 4 hours. I think it was a good thing my sister was away. She gets so stressed by these sorts of events - even when she's not the center of the activities - that she would have wound herself up into greater knots. The rest of us did what we had to do and things were pretty much ready by 2. Except Mom, who decided she had to use the bathroom at the last minute. Not a big thing, except you have to understand that we were walking a huge, bumpy, farm field distance between the second backyard, where the wedding was being held, and the house. The wedding itself went without a hitch - except for that one REALLY IMPORTANT hitch. My husband's sister performed the ceremony. She's a UCC minister, you know. My sister was gorgeous - naturally - and the groom was handsome in his tux with camo vest and hunting boots. (It was hunting opener, so only true love could have forced the hunterly guys to show up for this event.)
As soon as the wedding was over and the guests were all properly received, my sister and her husband went elsewhere for a visit with a granddaughter they rarely get to see. The wedding party changed into more sensible clothes - including a winter jacket for me - it was that cold - and we set up the food. My hubby had been roasting a pig all day, the one that my sister and her hubby had been raising for the occasion. It was delicious. Once the happy couple returned, after some prodding to get them to come to the meal, we ate. Food was followed by wedding cake, music, a bonfire, visiting, and clean-up. Then, blessed sleep.
It's finally official, but not without some chaos first. My sister had a plan - at least I'm pretty sure she did - but she didn't communicate it to anyone prior to the wedding. Where do the tents go? How do you want them arranged? How about the table and chairs? The table for the unity candle? What time are pictures again? Where do you want the grill for the pig? The food tables? When are we eating? Are we eating? Some of us simply had to take charge and get things done. To complicate things, it was extraordinarily windy and cold that day. The bridesmaids (including me) were dressed in sleeveless gowns and we were goose-pimply and teeth-chattery.
My sister and her youngest daughter left to have their hair and makeup done on Saturday morning and didn't return until about noon. The wedding was scheduled for 2 o'clock. We had to figure all of this stuff out, plus get dressed in about 4 hours. I think it was a good thing my sister was away. She gets so stressed by these sorts of events - even when she's not the center of the activities - that she would have wound herself up into greater knots. The rest of us did what we had to do and things were pretty much ready by 2. Except Mom, who decided she had to use the bathroom at the last minute. Not a big thing, except you have to understand that we were walking a huge, bumpy, farm field distance between the second backyard, where the wedding was being held, and the house. The wedding itself went without a hitch - except for that one REALLY IMPORTANT hitch. My husband's sister performed the ceremony. She's a UCC minister, you know. My sister was gorgeous - naturally - and the groom was handsome in his tux with camo vest and hunting boots. (It was hunting opener, so only true love could have forced the hunterly guys to show up for this event.)
As soon as the wedding was over and the guests were all properly received, my sister and her husband went elsewhere for a visit with a granddaughter they rarely get to see. The wedding party changed into more sensible clothes - including a winter jacket for me - it was that cold - and we set up the food. My hubby had been roasting a pig all day, the one that my sister and her hubby had been raising for the occasion. It was delicious. Once the happy couple returned, after some prodding to get them to come to the meal, we ate. Food was followed by wedding cake, music, a bonfire, visiting, and clean-up. Then, blessed sleep.
Labels: brother in law, cold, family, filter and splice, husband, minnesota, mom, pigs, sister, sister in law, weather, wedding
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
More Rain - Torrential Even
Yesterday the Hubby and I were sans two kids. Only Eldest Son was home, the others having sleepovers. We decided to spend a little quality time with the boy, who will soon be off to the hinterlands on his own (unless he decides to move back home as a young adult). We took Eldest to a local state park for a walk. Normally we stay on the trails, but we noticed that the creek bed was down to dry stones for the most part and thought we'd take the challenge to see how far up-creek we could go. We were headed for a particular metal bridge in the park and we made it to within sight distance of the bridge before having to crawl up the bank to the trail. Hubby and I have never seen the creek so dry. Obviously, we're in a drought. And then it rained last night. Don't know if it fully alleviated the drought, but it was coming down in sheets. They call such rains torrential. Yep. That about says it. Time to mow the grass again.
Labels: children, creek, drought, husband, minnesota, park, rain, son, walk, weather
Monday, August 27, 2007
Minnehaha Falls
Go away for a day and you come back to find that I've gone away for a day. The whole family, including cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, went to Minnehaha Falls yesterday. We were celebrating the grandparents' wedding anniversary. Seems they used to do some courtin' around about these falls. You know, back in the day. (Back in the day when a body could walk behind the falls, according to Grandpa.)
We brought a picnic lunch and had a fabulous day. Perfect weather and all that. I was smart (for once) and brought the camera. Between the children and I, we took over 100 pictures. What you see above is three of them. The top one, taken by moi, is of the falls from a nice three-quarters angle. The bottom two, taken by Daughter, is of the statue of Hiawatha (he's the guy) and Minnehaha. I knew nothing of the story of these two, other than there was a poem called "The Song of Hiawatha." My sister-in-law told me that they had to memorize this Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem in school. Hubby and I missed out, but the whole thing is online. One portion of it talks about Hiawatha wooing Minnehaha. The statue is an illustration of this section:
- Pleasant was the journey homeward,
- Through interminable forests,
- Over meadow, over mountain,
- Over river, hill, and hollow.
- Short it seemed to Hiawatha,
- Though they journeyed very slowly,
- Though his pace he checked and slackened
- To the steps of Laughing Water.
- Over wide and rushing rivers
- In his arms he bore the maiden;
- Light he thought her as a feather,
- As the plume upon his head-gear;
- Cleared the tangled pathway for her,
- Bent aside the swaying branches,
- Made at night a lodge of branches,
- And a bed with boughs of hemlock,
- And a fire before the doorway
- With the dry cones of the pine-tree.
Labels: children, dauther, family, henry wadsworth longfellow, husband, minnehaha falls, minnesota, picnic, poem, song of hiawatha, statue, weather
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Blown Away
I hate mixing post topics, but before I get down to the business at hand, I must say that it is raining here. A nice drizzly rain. After the last thunderous downpour, this is our first real all-day-gray rainy day. Amazingly, the crunchy brown grass is turning green and growing again. Doesn't take much, does it?
Okay, now that the weather is out of the way . . . .
For most of my life I've been concerned about my voice, specifically my singing voice. A couple of negative experiences while growing up have caused me to doubt the sound of my singing voice. I'm pretty sure it's crap and I won't sing in front of anyone (except babies, and periodically my kids and husband) because I'm afraid of how my voice will be received. Frankly, I don't need any more knocks where this subject is concerned. As a young adult, I wouldn't even sing alone. I sing alone now all the time (especially in the car), so I've improved on that account. Obviously God isn't offended or I would've been struck dead by now. (Don't you love how non-judgmental God is? Not like us crazy humans.) In comparison, I've had no trouble accepting my speaking voice. I used to be in speech, the competitive kind, in middle school and I placed pretty well. Also, there was no cringing going on when I spoke, so I never developed a complex about it.
Ironically, when I really started writing, I discovered that writers were very concerned about voice in their work. I was too. How do you create a distinctive writing voice such that others know your work upon reading it? My writing voice has become pretty clear over the years. With that, I've branched into attempting other sorts of effects with my writing. I've tried writing about myself in third-person, which is a kick. I've tried poetry and humor. I've tried using fiction techniques (storytelling and description) in nonfiction. I've invented new words. One thing I'm still working on is how to use words in a musical way. How to write as though the words can be sung.
Having not been encouraged to be musical while growing up, the whole music thing is foreign to me. Well, not completely foreign, but it's not second nature. (I had a family full of crazy artists, not musicians, so art was encouraged up to my eyeballs, which leaves me grateful beyond belief.) So then, I've been puzzling about how to pair music with lyrics. (One of my writers group buddies thinks I'm over-thinking this, and he's probably right.)
My husband is a musical genius, although he won't agree with me on this. He has dabbled with guitar since he was a teenager and can pick out many songs by ear. He can also compose amazing riffs and hooks on guitar. He does this as a hobby, as relaxation, so it can take him a long time to develop a song. He's been working on one for the past few months, refining and adding to it, and I've been listening to him play wondering how to write lyrics for the song. It's catchy and very pretty, sounding like a love song of sorts, but with a hint of longing. As I was listening yesterday, suddenly the words "emerald heart" came into my head, followed by several other lines as the chorus. I was blown away. Holy cow! My first lyrics to an actual song! Whoop! Whoop!
(Okay, maybe not my first. I made up a song I'd sing to Youngest Son when he was a baby. I'd hold him up facing the mirror after his bath and sing something with the words bouncing, baby, boy, bubbles, and bath, but, Lord help me, I can't for the life of me remember the thing. I also once wrote a song - music and lyrics - while dreaming, but it was gone when I woke.)
I'm so excited! My first lyrics that I've written down and remember. Now I've just got to get beyond one stanza.
Okay, now that the weather is out of the way . . . .
For most of my life I've been concerned about my voice, specifically my singing voice. A couple of negative experiences while growing up have caused me to doubt the sound of my singing voice. I'm pretty sure it's crap and I won't sing in front of anyone (except babies, and periodically my kids and husband) because I'm afraid of how my voice will be received. Frankly, I don't need any more knocks where this subject is concerned. As a young adult, I wouldn't even sing alone. I sing alone now all the time (especially in the car), so I've improved on that account. Obviously God isn't offended or I would've been struck dead by now. (Don't you love how non-judgmental God is? Not like us crazy humans.) In comparison, I've had no trouble accepting my speaking voice. I used to be in speech, the competitive kind, in middle school and I placed pretty well. Also, there was no cringing going on when I spoke, so I never developed a complex about it.
Ironically, when I really started writing, I discovered that writers were very concerned about voice in their work. I was too. How do you create a distinctive writing voice such that others know your work upon reading it? My writing voice has become pretty clear over the years. With that, I've branched into attempting other sorts of effects with my writing. I've tried writing about myself in third-person, which is a kick. I've tried poetry and humor. I've tried using fiction techniques (storytelling and description) in nonfiction. I've invented new words. One thing I'm still working on is how to use words in a musical way. How to write as though the words can be sung.
Having not been encouraged to be musical while growing up, the whole music thing is foreign to me. Well, not completely foreign, but it's not second nature. (I had a family full of crazy artists, not musicians, so art was encouraged up to my eyeballs, which leaves me grateful beyond belief.) So then, I've been puzzling about how to pair music with lyrics. (One of my writers group buddies thinks I'm over-thinking this, and he's probably right.)
My husband is a musical genius, although he won't agree with me on this. He has dabbled with guitar since he was a teenager and can pick out many songs by ear. He can also compose amazing riffs and hooks on guitar. He does this as a hobby, as relaxation, so it can take him a long time to develop a song. He's been working on one for the past few months, refining and adding to it, and I've been listening to him play wondering how to write lyrics for the song. It's catchy and very pretty, sounding like a love song of sorts, but with a hint of longing. As I was listening yesterday, suddenly the words "emerald heart" came into my head, followed by several other lines as the chorus. I was blown away. Holy cow! My first lyrics to an actual song! Whoop! Whoop!
(Okay, maybe not my first. I made up a song I'd sing to Youngest Son when he was a baby. I'd hold him up facing the mirror after his bath and sing something with the words bouncing, baby, boy, bubbles, and bath, but, Lord help me, I can't for the life of me remember the thing. I also once wrote a song - music and lyrics - while dreaming, but it was gone when I woke.)
I'm so excited! My first lyrics that I've written down and remember. Now I've just got to get beyond one stanza.
Labels: children, husband, lyrics, minnesota, music, rain, songs, voice, weather, writing, young son
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Hallelujah! Rain!
Overnight, between August 10 and 11, we were treated to a royal pounding - rain! If you remember correctly, my family had been scattered to the four winds. All were off doing various things - Daughter at a book signing, Sons at sleepovers, Husband fishing. The only one I expect home was Hubby. He called at about 9:00 p.m. saying he would be back to town for a couple more hours. I cleaned and did other household type things. While I was running from room-to-room, I stepped into our dark bedroom and saw a flash through the window - lightning. Pretty soon, I could hardly believe my ears - rain pitter-pattering on the roof. Glory be! But that was not the end. I went to bed. Hubby still wasn't home and I was getting worried. I half fell asleep, then woke at 12:30 a.m. Still no husband, but plenty of lightning, thunder and rain. I hoped that Hubby had taken a key because I wasn't sure I'd hear him if he pounded on the door. He was home by 1:30-ish, key in hand. It was still raining. I woke again at 3:30 a.m. and peeked out. The rain was coming in sheets. By morning it was gone, but it was good while it lasted.
Labels: children, cleaning, fishing, husband, minnesota, rain, thunder, weather
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
We Can't Even Trust the Ground Beneath Our Feet
The I-35W bridge over the Mississippi River in the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St. Paul has collapsed. This is not how Minnesota wants to make national news. We first heard at 6:25 p.m. CST, while watching our local news - WCCO. At that time, Jason DeRusha, one of WCCO's reporters, broke in with a special report. It was obvious that he was shaken. He was calling in about the bridge collapse, but there wasn't any video from the scene at that point. We switched channels to the other Twin Cities stations - KARE 11 and KSTP Channel 5 - and saw the video. Holy crap! The entire bridge is flattened, with a portion in the river. The reports say that between 30 and 50 vehicles were involved. The earliest reports concentrated on a school bus, which had kids ages 8-14 returning from a field trip on it. One of the eyewitnesses had actually survived the accident - his vehicle fell around 50 feet - and he climbed out and was helping the kids out of the bus. Other eyewitnesses say that the bridge collapsed from both ends following a rumble. The news coverage seems to be revolving around the river section of the bridge, but from the video it appears that the bridge has collapsed over a couple of other sections of road. Hard to tell.
Hubby was on a chat forum when we first got the news and a lady from Portland, Oregon, had already heard. We were wondering how, because it was a local story. Hubby quickly checked MSNBC and CNN and both were covering the story.
Things are still being sorted out. Emergency vehicles are everywhere. There's been one confirmed death, from drowning. We still don't know, and probably won't for a while, if anyone was under the bridge.
An hour after the bridge collapse, which occurred at 6:09 p.m., the news reported that the FBI will be investigating to rule out terrorism, although after one of the newscasters read a portion of a 2006 report on the structural condition of the bridge, it is most likely that the cause of the collapse was structural damage. The bridge was having repair work done at the time, supposedly on the road deck. Hubby and I were hoping there weren't any construction workers underneath the bridge.
8: 35-8:38 p.m. - Wait . . . this just in . . . another section of the collapsed road was shown. This section had crushed a train. Also, there is a report that there were no construction workers underneath the bridge.
When a tragedy of this magnitude strikes this close to home, it's especially heart-wrenching. Our daughter was in the Twin Cities yesterday and today, but thankfully wasn't on I-35. We're sending our good wishes to all of those involved and are hoping that fatalities are minimal.
Correction (August 3, 2007): The bridge collapsed at 6:05 p.m.
Hubby was on a chat forum when we first got the news and a lady from Portland, Oregon, had already heard. We were wondering how, because it was a local story. Hubby quickly checked MSNBC and CNN and both were covering the story.
Things are still being sorted out. Emergency vehicles are everywhere. There's been one confirmed death, from drowning. We still don't know, and probably won't for a while, if anyone was under the bridge.
An hour after the bridge collapse, which occurred at 6:09 p.m., the news reported that the FBI will be investigating to rule out terrorism, although after one of the newscasters read a portion of a 2006 report on the structural condition of the bridge, it is most likely that the cause of the collapse was structural damage. The bridge was having repair work done at the time, supposedly on the road deck. Hubby and I were hoping there weren't any construction workers underneath the bridge.
8: 35-8:38 p.m. - Wait . . . this just in . . . another section of the collapsed road was shown. This section had crushed a train. Also, there is a report that there were no construction workers underneath the bridge.
When a tragedy of this magnitude strikes this close to home, it's especially heart-wrenching. Our daughter was in the Twin Cities yesterday and today, but thankfully wasn't on I-35. We're sending our good wishes to all of those involved and are hoping that fatalities are minimal.
Correction (August 3, 2007): The bridge collapsed at 6:05 p.m.
Labels: accident, bridge collapse, daughter, emergency, fbi, husband, I35W, minnesota, mississippi river, news, twin cities
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Sitting Zazen on a Motorcycle
Hubby and I went for a motorcycle ride today. The ride was a benefit for a nonprofit organization. Benefit rides are quite popular among motorcyclists, with so many being scheduled during pleasant weather that you could go on one every single weekend through the summer if you like. When hubby and I first starting riding motorcycle, I felt so European on the back of the bike. Now that we've been riding for several years, it feels like I'm sitting zazen. When I'm on the back of a bike, I can't get out of the position I've willingly put myself in. I can barely move and my muscles cramp up. I stretch as much as I can, but mostly I have to just live with the discomfort. (Ever get an itchy ear when wearing a full face helmet?) Couple the usual physical discomfort with today's stickety-stinkin' heat and you've got the makings of a great zazen practice.
The mind rolls with the miles . . . look at the cows . . . watch out for the road kill . . . someone piled rocks from their farm field in a long pile by some trees . . . just like in Shawshank Redemption . . . ice cream . . . if I could create a Ben & Jerry's flavor, what would it be . . . Mary, Mary, quite contrary . . . Mary, Mary, Quite Raspberry . . . Crocodile Hunter . . . not the young one, Steve Irwin, the other one, Crocodile Dundee . . . didn't he marry his co-star after the movies . . . oh, we just crossed a river . . . check out the sunflowers . . . what am I going to blog about . . . Ben & Jerry's . . . sitting zazen on a motorcycle . . . God, my shoulders ache . . . .
By the end of the ride, the mind empties and you can't think of anything anymore. The wind just keeps rushing by.
The mind rolls with the miles . . . look at the cows . . . watch out for the road kill . . . someone piled rocks from their farm field in a long pile by some trees . . . just like in Shawshank Redemption . . . ice cream . . . if I could create a Ben & Jerry's flavor, what would it be . . . Mary, Mary, quite contrary . . . Mary, Mary, Quite Raspberry . . . Crocodile Hunter . . . not the young one, Steve Irwin, the other one, Crocodile Dundee . . . didn't he marry his co-star after the movies . . . oh, we just crossed a river . . . check out the sunflowers . . . what am I going to blog about . . . Ben & Jerry's . . . sitting zazen on a motorcycle . . . God, my shoulders ache . . . .
By the end of the ride, the mind empties and you can't think of anything anymore. The wind just keeps rushing by.
Labels: ben and jerry's, blog, buddhism, discomfort, husband, ice cream, minnesota, motorcycle, weather, zazen
Friday, July 27, 2007
Good Question
WCCO, one of the major Twin Cities television stations, has a segment with reporter Ben Tracy called "Good Question." Viewers are invited to email their good questions and Ben tries to find the answers, which are broadcast on the ten o'clock news. The kids and I are always thinking of good questions, but thus far hadn't submitted any . . . until today. I was calling someone long distance yesterday and wondered, why do we have to dial a "1" before long distance phone numbers? So, I submitted my question to Ben Tracy. We'll see if I get a response.
Labels: ben tracy, good question, kids, minnesota, news, telephone number, wcco
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Dump, Dump, Dump
We had rain today. Honest to goodness rain. A massive five-to-ten minute deluge. Dump, dump, dump, done. Young Son kindly ran out to the car to close my windows. He came back soaked, but nonetheless pleased with his mission.
Labels: minnesota, rain, weather, young son
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Trophic Cascade
Trophic cascade. Such a lovely term for a not-so-lovely phenomenon. A trophic cascade is a domino effect in the natural world, wherein if one part of an ecosystem is taken away, the others around it eventually fail. According to "The Sixth Extinction" by Terry Glavin, deforestation has been a major cause of trophic cascades around the world. Once the trees are gone, the plants and animals dependent upon the trees tend to go extinct if they can't find another area to move into. Trouble is that it's not only the plants and animals that suffer, but human beings, too. Once a trophic cascade really gets going, its eventual outcome is to take human culture with it as well.
Political upheaval can also cause a trophic cascade. Witness Iraq. Did you know that Iraqi farmers are not allowed to save agricultural seeds from year to year? Or that the U.S. government ordered Iraqi seed stocks to be destroyed during the war? Neither did I, until someone mentioned it at my writers group. I looked it up. Unfortunately, 'tis true under Order 81 of The Coalition Provisional Authority. There is a more intelligible discussion of the issue at CorpWatch. While I had no idea this was going on, I've been well aware of the cultural destruction in Iraq, having heard quite a bit about the looting of Iraqi museums.
According to Glavin, the current extinction cycle, the sixth in the earth's history that we're aware of, is by far the most destructive of all the extinction cycles because we have twice the average biological diversity of any other period on earth. The other extinctions were the Ordovician, Devonian, Permian (most destructive before this one), Triassic, and Cretaceous, which took the dinosaurs.
Although the entire subject is incredibly depressing if you're paying attention (and we all should be paying attention, because our necks are on the line), Glavin's book is not depressing, but quite hopeful. Along with pointing out the complex interplay between species and the causes of extinction, he regularly discusses the ways that humans have attempted to stem the bleed of species extinctions, in some cases even reversing extinctions. Bald eagles, which I rarely ever saw in central Minnesota as a child, now often fly over the area where I work. We've even seen flocks of them in area fields. They've made such a comeback that they've been removed from the Endangered Species list. Wild turkeys are also returning in force, as are timber wolves.
Human beings can be a wondrous force for change, if we put our minds to it.
Political upheaval can also cause a trophic cascade. Witness Iraq. Did you know that Iraqi farmers are not allowed to save agricultural seeds from year to year? Or that the U.S. government ordered Iraqi seed stocks to be destroyed during the war? Neither did I, until someone mentioned it at my writers group. I looked it up. Unfortunately, 'tis true under Order 81 of The Coalition Provisional Authority. There is a more intelligible discussion of the issue at CorpWatch. While I had no idea this was going on, I've been well aware of the cultural destruction in Iraq, having heard quite a bit about the looting of Iraqi museums.
According to Glavin, the current extinction cycle, the sixth in the earth's history that we're aware of, is by far the most destructive of all the extinction cycles because we have twice the average biological diversity of any other period on earth. The other extinctions were the Ordovician, Devonian, Permian (most destructive before this one), Triassic, and Cretaceous, which took the dinosaurs.
Although the entire subject is incredibly depressing if you're paying attention (and we all should be paying attention, because our necks are on the line), Glavin's book is not depressing, but quite hopeful. Along with pointing out the complex interplay between species and the causes of extinction, he regularly discusses the ways that humans have attempted to stem the bleed of species extinctions, in some cases even reversing extinctions. Bald eagles, which I rarely ever saw in central Minnesota as a child, now often fly over the area where I work. We've even seen flocks of them in area fields. They've made such a comeback that they've been removed from the Endangered Species list. Wild turkeys are also returning in force, as are timber wolves.
Human beings can be a wondrous force for change, if we put our minds to it.
Labels: animals, eagles, earth, extinction, human being, iraq, minnesota, plants, seeds, terry glavin, trophic cascade, turkey, wolves
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Weather Report
It's heating up here in central Minnesota. We woke to thunder and a gray sky this morning, desperately hoping it would rain. It's so dry here that the grass is a crunchy blonde crewcut. Sharp, too. I've been watering three beds - one with basil, one with lilies, and one with a mix of lilies, violets, chives and hostas. We don't bother with the grass. It's gone dormant, so we'd just be wasting water on America's weed of choice. We haven't had to mow in a month, that's how parched it is.
Well, our hopes were dashed. Not a drop of rain. I sort of suspected as much, which is why I watered this morning. The thunder stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun was relentlessly sunny. The humidity is rising, but it wasn't terribly uncomfortable outside. A light breeze and no insects made for great sitting-out-on-the-porch-reading-and-knitting weather.
For your viewing pleasure, I've included a photo of one of our lilies. They smell heavenly. Oh, to have a scratch-n-sniff computer.
Labels: drought, grass, knitting, lily, minnesota, rain, reading, thunder, weather
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Observations from Away
I don't know how this works for you, but every time I go to an unfamiliar place, my observational abilities increase. I notice all sorts of things that I would not pay any attention to if I was in that place on a regular basis. I spent three days at a workshop at the Minnesota Historical Society's History Center (MHS) in St. Paul. The workshop was on learning to properly digitize museum collections. Leigh Grinstead, our fearless leader, taught us about Dublin Core and meta-data and best practices and loads of other gobbledygook that I'll spare you from here. Suffice it to say that it was interesting and informative and I now know enough to know I still have a lot to learn.
While at MHS, workshop participants were given a chance to go through the exhibits, which were interesting to me not just from a content perspective, but from a design and construction perspective. I had three favorites. One was the exhibit on our State Capitol. The Capitol can be seen from a large window in the central hall, where the exhibit is located. MHS has kindly provided those tourist viewer glasses/binoculars so that visitors can peek at the details. People always talk about the golden horses and the golden peak on the Capitol, but I was thrilled to find that there are eagles encircling the dome - looking very much like friendly gargoyles. The Capitol was designed by Minnesota architect Cass Gilbert, who not only designed the building, but the furnishings as well.
Another favorite exhibit was Camera Ojibwe, which is a compliment to a new book by historian Bruce White. The book is called "We Are at Home: Pictures of the Ojibwe People". The exhibit, which was mounted in three months, if I'm remembering correctly, shows photographs of the Ojibwe in posed shots and in every day shots. There are also bandolier bags and other related artifacts on display in the exhibit. It will only be up until early August, so if this interests you, high-tail it to MHS.
The other exhibit I loved, especially from a holy-crap, how'd they do that perspective, was Open House: If These Walls Could Talk, an exhibit that shows the history of one particular St. Paul house and the people who lived there. The exhibit is set up like a house, with a parlor, bedroom, bathroom, den, attic, living room, basement, hallways, and garden. As you walk through, there are all sorts of interactive features that enhance your knowledge about the house. There's a bed that has the words "Sit Here" shining on it. When you sit, the voice of a woman who lived in the house explains how the bed kept breaking - and then the bed breaks. Whomp! While you're on it. The really impressive part of the exhibit was the basement, which can be seen through a small window near the floor. When you look in, you see a staircase with boots and a thermos on the stairs, and below, a record player and suitcases and what looks like a child's scooter/bike. Here's the kicker. If this were truly a basement, the room would be hanging down in the MHS library below. It isn't. Can you guess how they accomplished this room? This exhibit recently won an award from the American Association for State and Local History and I'd like to think that basement had a little something to do with it.
On my last day of the workshop, I decided to walk around the outside of the History Center, which is gorgeous inside, but I'd already seen much of the inside and the day was too beautiful not to enjoy. When I got to John Ireland Boulevard, I saw the Capitol, and then looked over my shoulder and saw St. Paul's Cathedral. The two buildings are ornate and domed and book-end the boulevard most purposefully. I asked Marcia Anderson, Head of Museum Collections of MHS, which building was constructed first. She said that the Capitol was and indicated that the church didn't want to be outdone as far as view and grandeur, so they built the cathedral. Marcia assisted in mounting the Camera Ojibwe exhibit and has been studying Ojibwe bandolier bags and other handcrafts for years. She's very knowledgeable and gracious.
Obviously, there was a lot to observe at MHS, but the observations didn't end there. On the evening of July 11, there was a reception for an art show called Reworks at The Minneapolis Foundation in the IDS Center. My husband's motorcycle table was accepted into this show of art made from recycled stuff. I'm so proud! His table fit right into the scheme of the office, so much so that we caught people setting their glasses on it. The food was to die for and all organic; we were introduced to the music of Ron Cheese; and there were loads of people in attendance. It was fun to be the wife of an artist, rather than to be the artist myself for a change.
And then there was the hotel . . . the Holiday Inn River Centre, which is a few blocks down the hill from MHS, kitty-corner from the Excel Energy Center. Have you ever noticed that you can feel entirely alone in a hotel, not seeing a soul on your floor while coming and going? You can hear 'em, but you can't see 'em. Spooky. Also, there's the issue of bathroom tile. After having tiled our own bathroom and kitchen, I'm forever checking out tile jobs. Hotel bathrooms are notorious for having poorly executed tile jobs, where tiles are cut unevenly, or don't match up quite right at the corners.
On the opposite end of the block from the hotel is Cossetta's restaurant, which serves pizza and Italian food. I ate a chicken penne and asparagus salad the first night, and my husband and I had pizza the second night. Delish! In between the hotel and Cossetta's is this quirky pop culture shop called Maharaja's. Music, smokes, posters, incense, a replica of Han Solo in carbonite (can be yours for only $4999 plus tax!), Buddha statues, KISS dolls, and a black light room filled with fuzzy posters are just a few of the wondrous things that can be found at Maharaja's. While there, I found an old Dave Matthews Band album - real vinyl in the 12" square jacket, folks. I couldn't check the price because it was in a locked cabinet behind a 45 rpm record. When the hubby and I walked back to the hotel from Maharaja's, I looked at the Excel Energy Center and wondered in a half-formed fashion if Dave Matthews Band had ever played there. While online yesterday, playing catch-up, I found a little item on Weekly Dave Speak that was oh so coincidental. Turns out that DMB had played a private concert at the Excel a mere two days before I was ensconced in the River Centre with a lovely view of St. Paul's Cathedral. How's that for weird?
Okay, one more thing and I'll give you a rest. While we (me, the hubby, our children, and hubby's folks and sister) were waiting in the IDS Center for the art show to begin, one of the children had to use the bathroom. There is not a single public restroom in the public areas of the IDS Center. We had to go through the Skyway to the next building to use the restrooms in Barnes and Noble. While I was waiting for the restroom brigade, I found a book on artist trading cards, little hand-made one-of-a-kind cards that artists make and trade with each other. I was taken by the form and now must simply try my hand at it.
While at MHS, workshop participants were given a chance to go through the exhibits, which were interesting to me not just from a content perspective, but from a design and construction perspective. I had three favorites. One was the exhibit on our State Capitol. The Capitol can be seen from a large window in the central hall, where the exhibit is located. MHS has kindly provided those tourist viewer glasses/binoculars so that visitors can peek at the details. People always talk about the golden horses and the golden peak on the Capitol, but I was thrilled to find that there are eagles encircling the dome - looking very much like friendly gargoyles. The Capitol was designed by Minnesota architect Cass Gilbert, who not only designed the building, but the furnishings as well.
Another favorite exhibit was Camera Ojibwe, which is a compliment to a new book by historian Bruce White. The book is called "We Are at Home: Pictures of the Ojibwe People". The exhibit, which was mounted in three months, if I'm remembering correctly, shows photographs of the Ojibwe in posed shots and in every day shots. There are also bandolier bags and other related artifacts on display in the exhibit. It will only be up until early August, so if this interests you, high-tail it to MHS.
The other exhibit I loved, especially from a holy-crap, how'd they do that perspective, was Open House: If These Walls Could Talk, an exhibit that shows the history of one particular St. Paul house and the people who lived there. The exhibit is set up like a house, with a parlor, bedroom, bathroom, den, attic, living room, basement, hallways, and garden. As you walk through, there are all sorts of interactive features that enhance your knowledge about the house. There's a bed that has the words "Sit Here" shining on it. When you sit, the voice of a woman who lived in the house explains how the bed kept breaking - and then the bed breaks. Whomp! While you're on it. The really impressive part of the exhibit was the basement, which can be seen through a small window near the floor. When you look in, you see a staircase with boots and a thermos on the stairs, and below, a record player and suitcases and what looks like a child's scooter/bike. Here's the kicker. If this were truly a basement, the room would be hanging down in the MHS library below. It isn't. Can you guess how they accomplished this room? This exhibit recently won an award from the American Association for State and Local History and I'd like to think that basement had a little something to do with it.
On my last day of the workshop, I decided to walk around the outside of the History Center, which is gorgeous inside, but I'd already seen much of the inside and the day was too beautiful not to enjoy. When I got to John Ireland Boulevard, I saw the Capitol, and then looked over my shoulder and saw St. Paul's Cathedral. The two buildings are ornate and domed and book-end the boulevard most purposefully. I asked Marcia Anderson, Head of Museum Collections of MHS, which building was constructed first. She said that the Capitol was and indicated that the church didn't want to be outdone as far as view and grandeur, so they built the cathedral. Marcia assisted in mounting the Camera Ojibwe exhibit and has been studying Ojibwe bandolier bags and other handcrafts for years. She's very knowledgeable and gracious.
Obviously, there was a lot to observe at MHS, but the observations didn't end there. On the evening of July 11, there was a reception for an art show called Reworks at The Minneapolis Foundation in the IDS Center. My husband's motorcycle table was accepted into this show of art made from recycled stuff. I'm so proud! His table fit right into the scheme of the office, so much so that we caught people setting their glasses on it. The food was to die for and all organic; we were introduced to the music of Ron Cheese; and there were loads of people in attendance. It was fun to be the wife of an artist, rather than to be the artist myself for a change.
And then there was the hotel . . . the Holiday Inn River Centre, which is a few blocks down the hill from MHS, kitty-corner from the Excel Energy Center. Have you ever noticed that you can feel entirely alone in a hotel, not seeing a soul on your floor while coming and going? You can hear 'em, but you can't see 'em. Spooky. Also, there's the issue of bathroom tile. After having tiled our own bathroom and kitchen, I'm forever checking out tile jobs. Hotel bathrooms are notorious for having poorly executed tile jobs, where tiles are cut unevenly, or don't match up quite right at the corners.
On the opposite end of the block from the hotel is Cossetta's restaurant, which serves pizza and Italian food. I ate a chicken penne and asparagus salad the first night, and my husband and I had pizza the second night. Delish! In between the hotel and Cossetta's is this quirky pop culture shop called Maharaja's. Music, smokes, posters, incense, a replica of Han Solo in carbonite (can be yours for only $4999 plus tax!), Buddha statues, KISS dolls, and a black light room filled with fuzzy posters are just a few of the wondrous things that can be found at Maharaja's. While there, I found an old Dave Matthews Band album - real vinyl in the 12" square jacket, folks. I couldn't check the price because it was in a locked cabinet behind a 45 rpm record. When the hubby and I walked back to the hotel from Maharaja's, I looked at the Excel Energy Center and wondered in a half-formed fashion if Dave Matthews Band had ever played there. While online yesterday, playing catch-up, I found a little item on Weekly Dave Speak that was oh so coincidental. Turns out that DMB had played a private concert at the Excel a mere two days before I was ensconced in the River Centre with a lovely view of St. Paul's Cathedral. How's that for weird?
Okay, one more thing and I'll give you a rest. While we (me, the hubby, our children, and hubby's folks and sister) were waiting in the IDS Center for the art show to begin, one of the children had to use the bathroom. There is not a single public restroom in the public areas of the IDS Center. We had to go through the Skyway to the next building to use the restrooms in Barnes and Noble. While I was waiting for the restroom brigade, I found a book on artist trading cards, little hand-made one-of-a-kind cards that artists make and trade with each other. I was taken by the form and now must simply try my hand at it.
Labels: artist trading cards, books, capitol, cathedral, dave matthews band, dmb, exhibits, family, history, hotel, husband, minnesota, museum, workshop
Monday, July 02, 2007
A Weather Update
There's a misty rain in Minnesota today. We need the rain. We've had unbelievably gorgeous weather the past couple of weeks - sunny, warm, a few humid days, but still tolerable. The grass was getting crunchy, so the rain is good. My mom said that she was told as a kid that when you look up at an oak tree in the summer, you shouldn't be able to see sky through it. This year, lots of sky can be seen through the oaks. We're wondering if it's because we're low on moisture in general, or if there's some other factor causing it.
Rain or not, my big goal for the day was to take the recycling out to the landfill. Our back porch was getting full up. With the help of my daughter and Young Son #2, we got the deed done. Such a simple thing, but such a feeling of accomplishment.
Monday is normally my writing day, and I did get a little writing done, but just a little - a few hundred words. I'm having a little trouble with direction on story nine of my series. I think it needs more thinking. I've got my main characters figured out, which is a quarter of the battle. I've got the thing started, which is another quarter. But, I don't have an idea of the ending, which is a problem because I have to get from here to . . . where? I like to have a sense of my ending, even if I veer from it by the time I'm done, because it's how I get over the hump - and there's always a hump.
Time to moodle.
Rain or not, my big goal for the day was to take the recycling out to the landfill. Our back porch was getting full up. With the help of my daughter and Young Son #2, we got the deed done. Such a simple thing, but such a feeling of accomplishment.
Monday is normally my writing day, and I did get a little writing done, but just a little - a few hundred words. I'm having a little trouble with direction on story nine of my series. I think it needs more thinking. I've got my main characters figured out, which is a quarter of the battle. I've got the thing started, which is another quarter. But, I don't have an idea of the ending, which is a problem because I have to get from here to . . . where? I like to have a sense of my ending, even if I veer from it by the time I'm done, because it's how I get over the hump - and there's always a hump.
Time to moodle.
Labels: daughter, minnesota, moodle, oak trees, rain, recycling, short story, weather, writing, young son
Thursday, June 21, 2007
The Middle Lane Is Key
I did something to day that I was terrified to do. I live in rural Minnesota and while I've driven around St. Cloud and Duluth with very little trouble, I have never driven in the Twin Cities - period (as in not even with another person navigating to tell me where to go). I had a meeting in St. Paul today and had no one available to drive. Hubby, who normally does the driving, was in school, so I was on my own. I wanted to lick this little oversight (and big terror), so I was determined to figure out a route I'd remember. I checked out MapQuest and Google Maps. (A little hint: MapQuest gives more complete directions.) I looked at a road map and I went to MNDOT's website that shows road construction and traffic conditions in Minnesota. It's a cool site, showing up-to-the-minute webcam shots of traffic. I went over the maps and instructions a gazillion times and kept picturing myself doing this successfully. I also pictured myself crashing, being run off the road, and getting lost, but tried to shove these thoughts out of my mind. I did have a brief meltdown/panic attack in anticipation of my upcoming task. I got over it.
When I entered the Twin Cities, I was able to follow my route all the way to my destination with no problems whatsoever. The middle lane was the key. When the highway split into two routes, the middle lane is the one that goes either way, so there's no last minute swerve over lanes to get to the proper exit. It also allowed me to stay out of the way of people merging onto the highway. The other thing I found helpful was to let the traffic swarm. If a big mass of vehicles was coming up behind me, I held my speed steady and let them move right around me. Keeping a proper following distance between me and the vehicle ahead also allowed the swarm to go where it wanted, even if that meant people cutting in quickly. All in all, I got through the experience with only one minor wrong turn, which I quickly recovered from. I am so pleased. And now I'm safely back home. No more terror. Whew!
When I entered the Twin Cities, I was able to follow my route all the way to my destination with no problems whatsoever. The middle lane was the key. When the highway split into two routes, the middle lane is the one that goes either way, so there's no last minute swerve over lanes to get to the proper exit. It also allowed me to stay out of the way of people merging onto the highway. The other thing I found helpful was to let the traffic swarm. If a big mass of vehicles was coming up behind me, I held my speed steady and let them move right around me. Keeping a proper following distance between me and the vehicle ahead also allowed the swarm to go where it wanted, even if that meant people cutting in quickly. All in all, I got through the experience with only one minor wrong turn, which I quickly recovered from. I am so pleased. And now I'm safely back home. No more terror. Whew!
Labels: driving, fear, minnesota, mndot, swarm, traffic, twin cities
Sunday, June 17, 2007
It's Not the Heat . . .
I was on StumbleUpon and found a website for a woman who is putting together a book based on fan experiences of Dave Matthews Band. The woman, Lynda from New York, has created some very fine art inspired by the band's music. Check it out here. There's a link to her MySpace page on her website for more personal info about the artist.
As a writer and artist, the idea of inspiration is an interesting one to me. What is it about a particular band's music, or a particular writer's essay or book, or a particular artist's painting, that drives us to create something new? How does that inspiration turn and twist through the fibers of our own experience and emotions to convolute into something new, something that may, in turn, be inspirational for someone else?
In thinking about this, it would be fascinating to take an inspirational work and put together a schematic of all the additional works the original has spawned. Take something like Poe's "The Raven" and chart out its influence. Hmmm. Has this ever been done before? The genealogy of a work of art?
In other news, it's miserable hot again. No wait! It's not the heat, it's the humidity. Windy as all get out, too. The silvery backs of leaves are showing themselves, which means we're in for rain. It can come none too soon. I'm roasting.
As a writer and artist, the idea of inspiration is an interesting one to me. What is it about a particular band's music, or a particular writer's essay or book, or a particular artist's painting, that drives us to create something new? How does that inspiration turn and twist through the fibers of our own experience and emotions to convolute into something new, something that may, in turn, be inspirational for someone else?
In thinking about this, it would be fascinating to take an inspirational work and put together a schematic of all the additional works the original has spawned. Take something like Poe's "The Raven" and chart out its influence. Hmmm. Has this ever been done before? The genealogy of a work of art?
In other news, it's miserable hot again. No wait! It's not the heat, it's the humidity. Windy as all get out, too. The silvery backs of leaves are showing themselves, which means we're in for rain. It can come none too soon. I'm roasting.
Labels: art, books, dave matthews band, dmb, edgar allan poe, fans, genealogy of creative work, inspiration, minnesota, music, rain, someone working on dmb book, stumbleupon, the raven, weather
