Sunday, January 31, 2010
And One More
There's one more things I should have added to that list: get a tattoo. I've been thinking about it for years. I know some people have very strong negative opinions about them, but I really can't help that. I'm also not doing it for them, to be honest. I have a design in mind, have had for many years now, and once I find the right artist to do it and somebody to go with me and hold my hand (possibly render me unconscious) while I get it done, I'm going to get it. Will I someday be an eighty-year-old with that design inked on me? God willing, yes. Get over it. I will grin my toothless grin every time I see it.
Things I Still Want to Do
I've been having troubling dreams the past little while, nightmare futures where I am trapped in places and situations that are horrible to me. To combat this, I am making a list of things I still want to do, still plan to do instead.
1) Stand before the Great Sphynx -- I have always, always loved Ancient Egypt. Some of the first books I checked out of any library as a tiny child were about the gods and pharoahs of that long-dead civilization. One day, I am going to go to Giza and see the pyramids and the lion-bodied mystery. Maybe it will whisper to me.
2) Learn to throw pottery and handform pottery. I almost had this one. I was so close I actually had clay on my hands. I will do this. Now I have to put it back on my list. Frustrating, that.....
3) See the Taj Mahal. -- One of my students brought me back a beautiful little alabaster model of this wonder of the world when he went to India for the first time. It is among my treasured items. I have always wanted to see the Taj Mahal. Something about the structure, even in pictures, calls out to me.
4) Open a small rescue kennel for pit bulls -- There is not a purely pit bull rescue organization in this area, and I'd like to give these worthy animals a second chance the way somebody did for my Roux.
5) Walk along the Great Wall -- Seems most of my goals have to do with going somewhere. I want to see this monument of man, one of the only works of man so large that it can be seen from space. Plus, I want to see China, a task much more complicated than it sounds. It's a bit like saying "I want to see America," really. Speaking of which....
6) Go to Albuquerque to see some of my family's personal past and another part of this country -- My father was raised out west. I want to take a road trip and stop in Texas and Oklahoma along the way to see all the places I've heard about all my life and reconnect with that side of my family.
There are more things, of course, but these are enough for now. Enough to refocus me and give me perspective, give me something to scheme and plan for. Hopefully they are enough to give me something to dream about instead of the horrible stuff my subconscious has been kicking out lately in its place.
1) Stand before the Great Sphynx -- I have always, always loved Ancient Egypt. Some of the first books I checked out of any library as a tiny child were about the gods and pharoahs of that long-dead civilization. One day, I am going to go to Giza and see the pyramids and the lion-bodied mystery. Maybe it will whisper to me.
2) Learn to throw pottery and handform pottery. I almost had this one. I was so close I actually had clay on my hands. I will do this. Now I have to put it back on my list. Frustrating, that.....
3) See the Taj Mahal. -- One of my students brought me back a beautiful little alabaster model of this wonder of the world when he went to India for the first time. It is among my treasured items. I have always wanted to see the Taj Mahal. Something about the structure, even in pictures, calls out to me.
4) Open a small rescue kennel for pit bulls -- There is not a purely pit bull rescue organization in this area, and I'd like to give these worthy animals a second chance the way somebody did for my Roux.
5) Walk along the Great Wall -- Seems most of my goals have to do with going somewhere. I want to see this monument of man, one of the only works of man so large that it can be seen from space. Plus, I want to see China, a task much more complicated than it sounds. It's a bit like saying "I want to see America," really. Speaking of which....
6) Go to Albuquerque to see some of my family's personal past and another part of this country -- My father was raised out west. I want to take a road trip and stop in Texas and Oklahoma along the way to see all the places I've heard about all my life and reconnect with that side of my family.
There are more things, of course, but these are enough for now. Enough to refocus me and give me perspective, give me something to scheme and plan for. Hopefully they are enough to give me something to dream about instead of the horrible stuff my subconscious has been kicking out lately in its place.
Extreme Home Makeover
I know this show has been on awhile, but I am watching my first episode of it right now. I'm tearing up the whole time. It's beautiful. What a lovely, lovely thing. Whoever came up with the concept for this show ought to get some kind of award.
The family they're honoring today has a prison warden father, a mother who keeps children for others and five kids in the house. They're changing lives and not asking for anything for themselves, just going through the process of doing the right things like so many people try to do with nothing. It's inspiring and literally restoring to my heart to see people like this get some great good things given to them. I know that doing good is its own reward, but sometimes when the world sees and acknowledges those sacrifices and honors them, even for a minute, it is beautiful.
I love that it the homes are built by local volunteers. I love that the products and housewares are donated by national corporations. I love that they send the family off on a vacation instead of forcing them to build even though you know these families would gladly grab a hammer or a shovel.
Being the hosts of this show must be just the best job in the world. I hope it runs for a long, long time. It is worthy.
The family they're honoring today has a prison warden father, a mother who keeps children for others and five kids in the house. They're changing lives and not asking for anything for themselves, just going through the process of doing the right things like so many people try to do with nothing. It's inspiring and literally restoring to my heart to see people like this get some great good things given to them. I know that doing good is its own reward, but sometimes when the world sees and acknowledges those sacrifices and honors them, even for a minute, it is beautiful.
I love that it the homes are built by local volunteers. I love that the products and housewares are donated by national corporations. I love that they send the family off on a vacation instead of forcing them to build even though you know these families would gladly grab a hammer or a shovel.
Being the hosts of this show must be just the best job in the world. I hope it runs for a long, long time. It is worthy.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Breathing
I can't breathe enough these days. Literally and figuratively.
I've been coughing that hard cough that hurts. I guess I need to go see my friendly neighborhood doctor again. Sigh. Or rather, hack....
I can't get any breathing room figuratively, either. I have so many things coming due all at once. It's unreal. Every time I get a pile of papers off me, somebody comes in and lays more in front of me. I feel like I'm caught in a spinning tornado of red tape and triplicate forms. It's like something from Alice in Wonderland but not nearly that fanciful or fun.
Last night in yoga, our instructor told us to focus on our breath. I did. I sat and tried to clear my mind of everything but the act of pulling air into my lungs and releasing it from them. Between the stress I still carried between my shoulder blades even at the end of practice and the inability of my stupid body to inhale like a regular person without coughing, it wasn't a great success.
I wish I could go lay on a old white cotton quilt in the middle of a sun-drenched spring pasture somewhere. I wish I could smell the grass just greening around me, hear the wind rushing through leaves soft and new on flexible limbs. I wish I could just be there in that place until all the things that are binding me, folding me, restricting me melt away and leave me completely free.
I don't guess that's an option just now, though. I guess I'll settle for another mug of hot tea and a daydream instead. It's an awfully poor tradeoff, all things considered.
I've been coughing that hard cough that hurts. I guess I need to go see my friendly neighborhood doctor again. Sigh. Or rather, hack....
I can't get any breathing room figuratively, either. I have so many things coming due all at once. It's unreal. Every time I get a pile of papers off me, somebody comes in and lays more in front of me. I feel like I'm caught in a spinning tornado of red tape and triplicate forms. It's like something from Alice in Wonderland but not nearly that fanciful or fun.
Last night in yoga, our instructor told us to focus on our breath. I did. I sat and tried to clear my mind of everything but the act of pulling air into my lungs and releasing it from them. Between the stress I still carried between my shoulder blades even at the end of practice and the inability of my stupid body to inhale like a regular person without coughing, it wasn't a great success.
I wish I could go lay on a old white cotton quilt in the middle of a sun-drenched spring pasture somewhere. I wish I could smell the grass just greening around me, hear the wind rushing through leaves soft and new on flexible limbs. I wish I could just be there in that place until all the things that are binding me, folding me, restricting me melt away and leave me completely free.
I don't guess that's an option just now, though. I guess I'll settle for another mug of hot tea and a daydream instead. It's an awfully poor tradeoff, all things considered.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Because We're Reading Dystopia
- In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act. ~George Orwell
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Machine Curse Strikes Again
Sigh.
Sometimes I wonder about that old Machine Curse....
There were two pops tonight during the sermon, one soft, almost unnoticable, almost like someone bumping a microphone by accident, the other loud enough to make me jump. It came from near the organ, and I sit next to the organ on the front pew during the sermon so it's easy to get back to it for the invitation hymn and the postlude. I cautiously looked at the organ, but from the angle of my seat, I couldn't see any problems, and I assumed that our pastor had accidentally tapped the top of the podium or something. I relaxed and tried to focus my mind.
When it came time for my friend and I to go back to the instruments for the invitation hymn, we silently took our seats, and I noticed that the lights were off on all the stops. I thought maybe I had accidentally flipped the master power switch, so I tried that. No joy. Only a few moments remained before the start of the hymn. It's sort of amazing what you can do when you're motivated. I unplugged and replugged the organ, reset the breaker on the big surge box that protects it and tried a few other things before I looked across at my pianist friend and mouthed, "It's dead." She'd been watching me frantically flail. Being the consummate professional she is, she didn't bat an eye. She just carried on. Our teacher, Mrs. Sarah, would have been proud.
After the service, the morning organist and I tried to revive the stricken instrument to no avail. Whatever went boom took it all the way out. It will require professional aid. I just hope that it can be restored. I'm no Bach, but the thought of it being out for a long time or gone for good is not comforting.
Sometimes I wonder about that old Machine Curse....
There were two pops tonight during the sermon, one soft, almost unnoticable, almost like someone bumping a microphone by accident, the other loud enough to make me jump. It came from near the organ, and I sit next to the organ on the front pew during the sermon so it's easy to get back to it for the invitation hymn and the postlude. I cautiously looked at the organ, but from the angle of my seat, I couldn't see any problems, and I assumed that our pastor had accidentally tapped the top of the podium or something. I relaxed and tried to focus my mind.
When it came time for my friend and I to go back to the instruments for the invitation hymn, we silently took our seats, and I noticed that the lights were off on all the stops. I thought maybe I had accidentally flipped the master power switch, so I tried that. No joy. Only a few moments remained before the start of the hymn. It's sort of amazing what you can do when you're motivated. I unplugged and replugged the organ, reset the breaker on the big surge box that protects it and tried a few other things before I looked across at my pianist friend and mouthed, "It's dead." She'd been watching me frantically flail. Being the consummate professional she is, she didn't bat an eye. She just carried on. Our teacher, Mrs. Sarah, would have been proud.
After the service, the morning organist and I tried to revive the stricken instrument to no avail. Whatever went boom took it all the way out. It will require professional aid. I just hope that it can be restored. I'm no Bach, but the thought of it being out for a long time or gone for good is not comforting.
Publication
Friday when I came home, I found a large envelope waiting for me in my mailbox. The return address was from one of our local community colleges. I knew what it was almost immediately: the literary magazine in which last year's winning poem had been published.
I came up the driveway, gathered up the rest of my stuff, and came on in the house. I didn't stay in the car to open it. I felt strangely hesitant about the whole thing. I got everything situated inside, fed all the furry creatures, and then opened the package.
The magazine is lovely this year as always. They've designed an interesting theme. I flipped through and found mine fairly quickly.
It's always so different when I see my stuff in print. I feel tremendously proud that it got in, but at the same time, I always see at least a dozen things I wish I'd done differently. I never stop tinkering with the poems anyway, but somehow all their glaring faults stick out so much more clearly once they've been formatted and printed professionally.
Maybe my stuff isn't meant for that, after all. Or maybe everybody feels this way about what they write. I don't know, really. I wish I had a community of other poets to talk to about it.
I came up the driveway, gathered up the rest of my stuff, and came on in the house. I didn't stay in the car to open it. I felt strangely hesitant about the whole thing. I got everything situated inside, fed all the furry creatures, and then opened the package.
The magazine is lovely this year as always. They've designed an interesting theme. I flipped through and found mine fairly quickly.
It's always so different when I see my stuff in print. I feel tremendously proud that it got in, but at the same time, I always see at least a dozen things I wish I'd done differently. I never stop tinkering with the poems anyway, but somehow all their glaring faults stick out so much more clearly once they've been formatted and printed professionally.
Maybe my stuff isn't meant for that, after all. Or maybe everybody feels this way about what they write. I don't know, really. I wish I had a community of other poets to talk to about it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Grrr....
I hate it when the inanimate objects malfunction. My netbook has been wonky for a week or so. It started with my Google sidebar getting stupid, and it went from there. I've spent the last four hours systematically fixing one problem after another until I think, now, that I have everything back in its little slot and hole. It's been like working one of those puzzles where you have to slide all the pieces around to make a complete picture. I hate those puzzles....
I picked up a virus from somewhere at school, and it came in on my external hard drive. Muninn brought home something nasty to the nest. Norton cleaned it out of both Huginn and Muninn, but CRAP this has been a long day computer wise. I have had to restore the system three times to get all the system functionality back, reinstall Norton (because it just magically and inexplicably dis-a-freakin-peared) and then update and retweak a bunch of stuff. Sigh. It's not like I needed a new hobby, either.
I also reset and reinstalled my wireless router because I thought that was the problem. Oh the invectives I heaped on my poor innocent (this time, anyway) router.
All of this makes me wish I had a big, big hammer that I could use to smash bits off the people who make viruses. Not all of them. At least not at first. Just the soft, painful bits. Maybe that would be some comfort for a mostly lost Saturday.
I picked up a virus from somewhere at school, and it came in on my external hard drive. Muninn brought home something nasty to the nest. Norton cleaned it out of both Huginn and Muninn, but CRAP this has been a long day computer wise. I have had to restore the system three times to get all the system functionality back, reinstall Norton (because it just magically and inexplicably dis-a-freakin-peared) and then update and retweak a bunch of stuff. Sigh. It's not like I needed a new hobby, either.
I also reset and reinstalled my wireless router because I thought that was the problem. Oh the invectives I heaped on my poor innocent (this time, anyway) router.
All of this makes me wish I had a big, big hammer that I could use to smash bits off the people who make viruses. Not all of them. At least not at first. Just the soft, painful bits. Maybe that would be some comfort for a mostly lost Saturday.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Cancelled Class
I came home today after a long day to find that little red light blinking on my answering machine. I hate that answering machine light. I never come home to find that a friend has called just to say hi. I never come home to find that someone has left me a fortune or that I've won a fabulous prize. It's always an obligation, a reminder of something I want to avoid like a doctor's appointment, or bad news of some kind. It's gotten to the point that I almost hate even to look toward the answering machine when I come through the door in a good mood because I just know, know, that if that menacing incarnadine light is winking at me, somebody is about to ask me for something or I'm about to have to put out a fire somewhere.
Today was no exception. When I pressed the button, there were a couple of harmless messages followed by the whammy. My ceramics class, the long-awaited pottery class, has been canceled due to low enrollment. Crap. Now what? I was so excited about this, and it's been jerked out from under my feet after I've done no more than throw one small cylinder. I can't let this be the end. There has to be a way to keep learning this art in spite of the best efforts of the hateful little light to the contrary.
Today was no exception. When I pressed the button, there were a couple of harmless messages followed by the whammy. My ceramics class, the long-awaited pottery class, has been canceled due to low enrollment. Crap. Now what? I was so excited about this, and it's been jerked out from under my feet after I've done no more than throw one small cylinder. I can't let this be the end. There has to be a way to keep learning this art in spite of the best efforts of the hateful little light to the contrary.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Giraffes Make Me Happy
And they always have. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe they make everybody smile. I can't imagine anybody looking at one and being afraid or sad. There is something somehow...comforting...about a giraffe. When I was a baby, one of my favorite toys was a small yellow plastic giraffe with bright blue eyes. It squeaked when it was squeezed. I called it, originally enough, Raffy. No, I had not started naming everything after literary or mythological characters, you see. Anyway, I carried it everywhere. In fact, I still have Raffy tucked up on a shelf in my office. He's right there alongside my complete works of Shakespeare and my teachers' editions.
One day, I want to see giraffes in their native habitat. I've seen them in zoos, but that always just makes me sad. I don't, as a general rule, like zoos very much. I know they can be nice, and I know they can be a place where endangered animals can survive, but I can't ever escape the feeling that all the animals in them are in mourning for something lost. I'd like to see a bunch of tall giraffes, impossibly graceful for all their neck and legs, galloping across the plains someday. I think it would be a sight to feed the soul.In honor of the general joy of giraffes, here are a couple of iPhone wallpapers I found recently. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Click them to see them large enough to see all the details at their original sources. Don't they make you smile?
Returning to Yoga
I did my first yoga practice in almost a year tonight. It was delightful. I feel loose and somehow liquid right now, lighter, as though everything is liquid and I am swimming through it with each motion. I love that feeling.
I was so fearful when I went in. The last several practices I did were literal exercises in pain. All I could think of as I started practice tonight was that horrible dull pain and burning band that were there when my knee gave out. As we did a few modified Warrior poses tonight, I waited for the pain to come, and there was not even the faintest twinge. No burn, no weakness, no catch or pause, no feeling like sandpaper. I wanted to dance and sing. It was amazing.
I did tree pose, my favorite pose on both legs tonight. My right leg was not as stable as the left, of course, but I balanced for a long time on it. I laughed out loud while I did it, thinking of all those hours I put in this summer standing on leg leaning down to touch those up-ended weights one after the other to restore my balance. It was so worth it. All the pain and sweat of the surgery and the PT that followed was worth it for tonight, for those beautiful moments of Dancing Warrior, Bound Warrior, and Tree Pose.
I don't know if I will ever work back up into my full extensions on the Warriors. I don't know if I will ever be able to get into Child's Pose and put that hard bend on my knees. It doesn't matter. I am at peace with what I can do, whatever that turns out to be. It's a wonderful blessing that I can do any of it at all.
I was so fearful when I went in. The last several practices I did were literal exercises in pain. All I could think of as I started practice tonight was that horrible dull pain and burning band that were there when my knee gave out. As we did a few modified Warrior poses tonight, I waited for the pain to come, and there was not even the faintest twinge. No burn, no weakness, no catch or pause, no feeling like sandpaper. I wanted to dance and sing. It was amazing.
I did tree pose, my favorite pose on both legs tonight. My right leg was not as stable as the left, of course, but I balanced for a long time on it. I laughed out loud while I did it, thinking of all those hours I put in this summer standing on leg leaning down to touch those up-ended weights one after the other to restore my balance. It was so worth it. All the pain and sweat of the surgery and the PT that followed was worth it for tonight, for those beautiful moments of Dancing Warrior, Bound Warrior, and Tree Pose.
I don't know if I will ever work back up into my full extensions on the Warriors. I don't know if I will ever be able to get into Child's Pose and put that hard bend on my knees. It doesn't matter. I am at peace with what I can do, whatever that turns out to be. It's a wonderful blessing that I can do any of it at all.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Gandhi Quote
“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” ~Mahatma Gandhi
Saturday, January 16, 2010
iPhone
My beloved BlackBerry finally started to die. It stopped ringing when it was supposed to, and it started to need constant battery pulls. External parts began to be "wiggly," and the battery life had gotten down to nothing. It had been a constant and faithful companion, but it was done, basically.
After it failed to go off as my backup alarm yesterday morning, I had had enough. I went out to dinner with my parents last night and afterward, I went to the AT&T store to check on whether or not I could upgrade. I was ready for one, amazingly enough, and so I looked at the smartphones they had. I've been pondering this issue for awhile. Did I want to go with a new Berry or did I want to change over to one of the iPhones? I was fortunate enough to get a good salesman at the store, and he and I talked about the two models a bit. He'd used both, currently had both, and could answer some of my questions about making the switch.
For a variety of reasons, I would up with an iPhone. So far, I like it a lot. I'm still trying to get used to the size difference, mostly. I got so used to the Curve just fitting in the palm of my hand, but I love the touch interface on the iPhone. I spent most of the night last night and then again this morning tweaking it. I found a couple of websites that will let me get some nice wallpaper and I found a free utility that lets me make ringtones with a minimum of fuss.
I transferred all the goofy apps I had already found for my iPod touch over, and I found several others, including another that I love that's called Nightstand that shows an oldfashioned flip-type clock with weather, too, and a wallpaper that I can change along with an alarm clock. It cost me all of a dollar, and it fixed all the problems I had with the iPhone's look and solved my morning alarm issue prettily, too. I can keep that app running whenever I have my phone on the dock, and it makes the phone into a gorgeous clock/weather station.
So far, the only thing I can't do with the iPhone that I had with the Berry is access Google Voice. Since I wasn't using it that much anyway, it's not that great a loss to me, but I do wish Google would release a version for iPhone. I know why they're not since they just released their own phone and all, but still...
Well, it's a rainy Saturday, and I think I'm going to get a nap now. I'm tired from all that iPhone tweaking.
After it failed to go off as my backup alarm yesterday morning, I had had enough. I went out to dinner with my parents last night and afterward, I went to the AT&T store to check on whether or not I could upgrade. I was ready for one, amazingly enough, and so I looked at the smartphones they had. I've been pondering this issue for awhile. Did I want to go with a new Berry or did I want to change over to one of the iPhones? I was fortunate enough to get a good salesman at the store, and he and I talked about the two models a bit. He'd used both, currently had both, and could answer some of my questions about making the switch.
For a variety of reasons, I would up with an iPhone. So far, I like it a lot. I'm still trying to get used to the size difference, mostly. I got so used to the Curve just fitting in the palm of my hand, but I love the touch interface on the iPhone. I spent most of the night last night and then again this morning tweaking it. I found a couple of websites that will let me get some nice wallpaper and I found a free utility that lets me make ringtones with a minimum of fuss.
I transferred all the goofy apps I had already found for my iPod touch over, and I found several others, including another that I love that's called Nightstand that shows an oldfashioned flip-type clock with weather, too, and a wallpaper that I can change along with an alarm clock. It cost me all of a dollar, and it fixed all the problems I had with the iPhone's look and solved my morning alarm issue prettily, too. I can keep that app running whenever I have my phone on the dock, and it makes the phone into a gorgeous clock/weather station.
So far, the only thing I can't do with the iPhone that I had with the Berry is access Google Voice. Since I wasn't using it that much anyway, it's not that great a loss to me, but I do wish Google would release a version for iPhone. I know why they're not since they just released their own phone and all, but still...
Well, it's a rainy Saturday, and I think I'm going to get a nap now. I'm tired from all that iPhone tweaking.
A Reader
After waiting for three years, I got news Thursday afternoon that I have been chosen to be a reader for the national exam that I teach. I'm ecstatic. I get to spend a week this summer grading thousands of essays. Sounds like loads of fun, right? Okay, so maybe it's not everybody's cup of tea, but I am genuinely thrilled to have this opportunity. I've wanted to do it since I first became aware of being able to sign up.
There are so many reasons why this is going to be a good experience. First, it's going to let me get so much first-hand knowledge about exactly what the graders are looking for. There is no professional development like being trained to a rubric, like actually working with the makers of a test. I expect to come away from this with newfound insight into how to help my students improve their writing and how to improve my own performance as a teacher.
Almost as important to me is getting to meet people who love literature and writing as much as I do from all over the country. It's a LitGeek fest! They will understand what the heck I'm talking about, and while they may not be weird just like me, we'll be different strains of the same kind of weird. It will be a nice change. I'm looking forward to having a large group of people who don't get a sort of distant, bored, or frightened look in their eyes when I mention works of classical literature. I am also looking forward to being challenged by these people to increase my own base of knowledge since some of the people who always come to these readings are practically demi-gods in this field. Maybe I won't put my foot in it too often....
The last reason I'm giddy is because the place where the reading will be is only about two hours away from Bloomington. I am planning to go there after I get done with the reading. I can't believe I will actually get to see IU again. I've been thinking so much about B'town lately and wondering what's changed on the campus in the time since I've left. I will get to go to Bear's and get a chilidog. I will FINALLY get to replace my ratty IU shirts! I will go to Oliver Winery, and even though I can't drink it because of the freakin' Topamax, I will get a bottle or two of Camelot Mead and Muscat Canelli on principal. It will be incredibly good to be a stranger in that familiar land.
The only downside to this wonderful news is that I'm going to have to leave before the end of our current school year to do this. I don't want to miss graduation for this class. I like to see each batch of seniors finish and walk. However, I can't be in two places at the same time, so I hope they will be able to forgive me. I just can't turn this down. I may never get another chance if I do.
I needed this good news so much Thursday. It has helped to cheer me from my January blahs and given me something to look forward to. Now every time I feel cruddy, I can look toward the summer and the reading.
There are so many reasons why this is going to be a good experience. First, it's going to let me get so much first-hand knowledge about exactly what the graders are looking for. There is no professional development like being trained to a rubric, like actually working with the makers of a test. I expect to come away from this with newfound insight into how to help my students improve their writing and how to improve my own performance as a teacher.
Almost as important to me is getting to meet people who love literature and writing as much as I do from all over the country. It's a LitGeek fest! They will understand what the heck I'm talking about, and while they may not be weird just like me, we'll be different strains of the same kind of weird. It will be a nice change. I'm looking forward to having a large group of people who don't get a sort of distant, bored, or frightened look in their eyes when I mention works of classical literature. I am also looking forward to being challenged by these people to increase my own base of knowledge since some of the people who always come to these readings are practically demi-gods in this field. Maybe I won't put my foot in it too often....
The last reason I'm giddy is because the place where the reading will be is only about two hours away from Bloomington. I am planning to go there after I get done with the reading. I can't believe I will actually get to see IU again. I've been thinking so much about B'town lately and wondering what's changed on the campus in the time since I've left. I will get to go to Bear's and get a chilidog. I will FINALLY get to replace my ratty IU shirts! I will go to Oliver Winery, and even though I can't drink it because of the freakin' Topamax, I will get a bottle or two of Camelot Mead and Muscat Canelli on principal. It will be incredibly good to be a stranger in that familiar land.
The only downside to this wonderful news is that I'm going to have to leave before the end of our current school year to do this. I don't want to miss graduation for this class. I like to see each batch of seniors finish and walk. However, I can't be in two places at the same time, so I hope they will be able to forgive me. I just can't turn this down. I may never get another chance if I do.
I needed this good news so much Thursday. It has helped to cheer me from my January blahs and given me something to look forward to. Now every time I feel cruddy, I can look toward the summer and the reading.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
So Tuesdays Suck Now
Tuesdays have become the Day of Suck for no readily-apparent reason. It used to be Monday or (shudder) Wednesday, but now Tuesdays are always the days that get stupid "just because." Today, I wound up with a migraine by third period and had to take a Maxalt which left me stupified for most of the rest of the day. Even though it should have cycled out of my system by now, I still feel muzzy from it, and I'm still photosensitive. I'm also irritable. I don't know that the headache is doing that....
The good news is that I have the pottery class to look forward to every week now. Also, if not this week, then next, I'm going to start back with my yoga. I think that class will be on Thursdays. Maybe if the two Dias del Caca are sandwiched between Mud and Om, I can force them into wonder by sheer willpower. If not, I will find something good to do those days, too.
The good news is that I have the pottery class to look forward to every week now. Also, if not this week, then next, I'm going to start back with my yoga. I think that class will be on Thursdays. Maybe if the two Dias del Caca are sandwiched between Mud and Om, I can force them into wonder by sheer willpower. If not, I will find something good to do those days, too.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Hands in Mud
I took my first pottery class tonight. It was everything I was hoping it would be, once I actually managed to find it. The local community college offering the class is a labyrinth composed of many little buildings and many winding halls within those buildings, so it took me quite a while to find the ceramics studio. When I got there, the instructor hadn't started yet, and I was able to catch the whole class.
I watched the teacher go through the process of centering the clay and forming an object. Then, we got the chance to try it ourselves tonight if we wanted to. Since that was why I was there, I got some clay, headed to a wheel, and literally tried my hand at it. To my great amazement, and I think, the amazement of the instructor, I got the clay centered fairly quickly on my first attempt. I'm sure it was beginner's luck, but it felt so natural.
I had more trouble pulling it up. I got a cylinder built, but it's not the loveliest thing you've ever seen. For the first time I've ever done it, though, I don't think it's too bad. Maybe with some glaze on it, it won't be utterly disreputable.
This is everything I hoped it would be. I could have done it all night, just me and the wheel, pressing and shaping, forming and reforming. It's like a meditation. As I watched my hands pressing into the center of the clay, I felt my stress draining down that same center, spiraling away. I can't wait for next week. The instructor said he's going to teach me to throw bigger vessels since I have large hands and long fingers that will enable me to reach and pull them. Maybe these hands are not just organ-playing hands and wildly-gesturing-while-I'm-talking hands. Maybe they're pottery hands. I hope my beginner's luck holds.
I watched the teacher go through the process of centering the clay and forming an object. Then, we got the chance to try it ourselves tonight if we wanted to. Since that was why I was there, I got some clay, headed to a wheel, and literally tried my hand at it. To my great amazement, and I think, the amazement of the instructor, I got the clay centered fairly quickly on my first attempt. I'm sure it was beginner's luck, but it felt so natural.
I had more trouble pulling it up. I got a cylinder built, but it's not the loveliest thing you've ever seen. For the first time I've ever done it, though, I don't think it's too bad. Maybe with some glaze on it, it won't be utterly disreputable.
This is everything I hoped it would be. I could have done it all night, just me and the wheel, pressing and shaping, forming and reforming. It's like a meditation. As I watched my hands pressing into the center of the clay, I felt my stress draining down that same center, spiraling away. I can't wait for next week. The instructor said he's going to teach me to throw bigger vessels since I have large hands and long fingers that will enable me to reach and pull them. Maybe these hands are not just organ-playing hands and wildly-gesturing-while-I'm-talking hands. Maybe they're pottery hands. I hope my beginner's luck holds.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
If I Could Just Keep This in Mind...
"If you're not ready to die, you're not ready to live." ~ quoted by the pastor speaking in my church tonight.
This is the essence of life. Strip away everything else, and this is what it's all about. If you can wake up every morning and be calm and content with the idea that today might be your last, if you can lay your head down on your pillow and close your eyes with no fear at the knowledge that you might not open them again to a new day, then you are ready for anything.
Think about what you are freed from. Think about how much time we spend in fear of our tiny, fragile, finite little lives. Think about what we deny ourselves, what experiences, what joys we shy away from. If we were truly ready for the end whenever it came, if we held the peace of that readiness within ourselves, if we knew without doubt what came next, then we could step out into all the moments of wonder, terror, and magic that life places before us daily and look at them, drink them in, make them a part of ourselves.
The fear of death becomes the fear of life. We wrap ourselves in so many layers of protection trying to keep out the Grim Reaper that we insulate ourselves from everything else in the process, and we find, to borrow and adapt some words from Thoreau, when it comes time to die that we have not really lived at all. Understanding comes too late in those brief moments at the end, and those who have allowed fear to prevent life wail and clutch at the could-have-beens.
We're told that we cannot add even one minute to our lives by worry, yet we continue daily to fret and struggle, to plan and to prevent, to try to paddle against the flowing river of the inevitable. Instead, we should be paying attention to the scenery along the banks of this incredible mighty river as we go past, enjoying the ride, even the patches of whitewater, trusting that at the end of it all, all will be as it should be. This sort of perfect peace is possible. We just have to reach for it and get our pitiful little matchsticks paddles back inside the boat.
This is the essence of life. Strip away everything else, and this is what it's all about. If you can wake up every morning and be calm and content with the idea that today might be your last, if you can lay your head down on your pillow and close your eyes with no fear at the knowledge that you might not open them again to a new day, then you are ready for anything.
Think about what you are freed from. Think about how much time we spend in fear of our tiny, fragile, finite little lives. Think about what we deny ourselves, what experiences, what joys we shy away from. If we were truly ready for the end whenever it came, if we held the peace of that readiness within ourselves, if we knew without doubt what came next, then we could step out into all the moments of wonder, terror, and magic that life places before us daily and look at them, drink them in, make them a part of ourselves.
The fear of death becomes the fear of life. We wrap ourselves in so many layers of protection trying to keep out the Grim Reaper that we insulate ourselves from everything else in the process, and we find, to borrow and adapt some words from Thoreau, when it comes time to die that we have not really lived at all. Understanding comes too late in those brief moments at the end, and those who have allowed fear to prevent life wail and clutch at the could-have-beens.
We're told that we cannot add even one minute to our lives by worry, yet we continue daily to fret and struggle, to plan and to prevent, to try to paddle against the flowing river of the inevitable. Instead, we should be paying attention to the scenery along the banks of this incredible mighty river as we go past, enjoying the ride, even the patches of whitewater, trusting that at the end of it all, all will be as it should be. This sort of perfect peace is possible. We just have to reach for it and get our pitiful little matchsticks paddles back inside the boat.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Tesla
I love Tesla. He is one of the most fascinating people I've ever read about, hands down. More and more, I believe he could do most if not all of the things he said he could do. I think he would have been so deeply and wonderfully amazing to know for his sheer eccentricity, although he would undoubtedly have been horrified by the two sets of earrings I wear in each ear, and so he probably wouldn't have talked to silly old me, anyway. Science is finally starting to catch up to him only now, almost a century later.
This quote, however, worries me just a smidgen. If you know anything about his life, you may wonder as I do which camp he fell in. You may also wonder which camp he believed he fell in. Was he delivering this line straight or with some of his tongue-in-cheek irony? Oh, how I wish I could have been there to ask. Again, though, teasing Tesla isn't probably the sort of thing that is polite.
We recently passed the anniversary of his death, Jan. 7. This greatest of the inventors died penniless and alone in his hotel room. Every time I think about it, it makes me sad. That great man, the one who made so much of our modern life possible and who believed that those inventions should belong to everyone while Edison was hoarding and profiteering, passed away unnoticed and almost unmourned.
There's a museum now in his native land, and the scientific community that shunned him in his life now claims him as one of its heroes. I guess sometimes scientists are like artists and poets, not receiving their due in their lifetimes if they are too much the visionary.
Friday, January 08, 2010
The Problem With Trying to Be Somebody Else
- Almost all absurdity of conduct arises from the imitation of those whom we cannot resemble.~ Samuel Johnson
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Longing
Today, I wish I were in Kyoto. The day here is gray and cold, and a solid sort of rain has been dripping off my roof all day. On FaceBook today, Ito En, the company who bottles and imports the green tea I love so much, posted a small blurb about the annual new year tea ceremony held at one of the great temples in Kyoto, and as I stared out my winter window at the drizzle here, I wanted to be there so much it was a pain in my heart.
A friend of mine lived a year in Kyoto, went to school there. He took a map of the city, and during that time, he made it his goal to visit every temple and shrine and cross them off his map as he went. I can think of far worse ways to spend a year. I would be happy just sitting in a tea shop on the Philosopher's Path and then strolling up to Kiyomizudera every day in a leisurely and habitual meandering.
I miss Japan. I miss the gray-tiled roofs. I miss the bicycles and the smell of diesel. I miss the t-shirts with their dubious English slogans. I miss the sound of the crossing signal that was two blocks away from my little apartment. I miss mikan and proper sencha and donburi bowls and pottery everywhere and the joy of a people who incorporate the practical and the beautiful into the useful everyday.
Part of me also knows that some of what I am longing for is just otherness. That "not-here-ness" that other cultures, other parts of the world have always makes my soul happy. I love seeing the grand diversities and the things we all hold common at the heart of this little sphere we call home. In truth, I know there are ways other than going back to Japan to sate this need. I could probably satisfy part of my desire if I could just get out of this place for awhile.
And yet, as I look around my house at all the things I brought home with me, all the precious bits and pieces of that life, I want to stretch my wings and fly away to those impossibly ancient streets with nothing but a heavy coat, an empty notebook and my red pencil, a copy of Basho, and a pocket full of yen. I'm sure somewhere, there's a seat waiting for me by a sunny window or looking out at a cloudless, starry sky.
A friend of mine lived a year in Kyoto, went to school there. He took a map of the city, and during that time, he made it his goal to visit every temple and shrine and cross them off his map as he went. I can think of far worse ways to spend a year. I would be happy just sitting in a tea shop on the Philosopher's Path and then strolling up to Kiyomizudera every day in a leisurely and habitual meandering.
I miss Japan. I miss the gray-tiled roofs. I miss the bicycles and the smell of diesel. I miss the t-shirts with their dubious English slogans. I miss the sound of the crossing signal that was two blocks away from my little apartment. I miss mikan and proper sencha and donburi bowls and pottery everywhere and the joy of a people who incorporate the practical and the beautiful into the useful everyday.
Part of me also knows that some of what I am longing for is just otherness. That "not-here-ness" that other cultures, other parts of the world have always makes my soul happy. I love seeing the grand diversities and the things we all hold common at the heart of this little sphere we call home. In truth, I know there are ways other than going back to Japan to sate this need. I could probably satisfy part of my desire if I could just get out of this place for awhile.
And yet, as I look around my house at all the things I brought home with me, all the precious bits and pieces of that life, I want to stretch my wings and fly away to those impossibly ancient streets with nothing but a heavy coat, an empty notebook and my red pencil, a copy of Basho, and a pocket full of yen. I'm sure somewhere, there's a seat waiting for me by a sunny window or looking out at a cloudless, starry sky.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Good Things That Happened Today
Because sometimes it's good to commemorate the good stuff....
(Not presented in order or rank, and not intended to imply that these things are comparable in importance)
1) I finally got a case of unsweetened Japanese green tea. ItoEn OiOcha, you ROCK. I have to dole it out a bottle at a time when I want to go suck it down like oxygen, but it's there, chilling in my fridge.
2) We have a snow day tomorrow. We almost didn't. The almighty powers that be first announced that the students would have the day but not faculty and staff. I was trying to figure out how I might be able to ski in over a couple of iced-over bridges if I had to when they revised their earlier statement and magnanimously decided we could all stay home. How nice.
3) Somebody called and woke me up when my alarm failed to go off this morning. My BlackBerry is dying, and I use it as my main alarm clock. Apparently, it thought it was playing its wakeup tone to beat the band, but no sound was coming out of it. ANOTHER battery-pull moment....sigh.... The phone call kept me from one of those awkward "I-need-a-sub-'cause-I'm-dumb" moments.
4) I saw four of my wonderful former students today and got to talk to them my whole lunch period. It was so good to see them and hear how they're doing with college life. I love it when I get to talk to my students again. This bunch is extra special, perhaps because I had them for two years. They're all finding their way toward such wonderful and exciting things, and getting to sit and talk with them again was a refreshing treat.
5) I signed up for my pottery class today. Monday night, I will have my hands in clay learning to form things from earth, water, and fire. I can hardly believe that it's finally going to happen. I hope these hands have aptitude for it. Even if they don't, at least I will have the satisfaction of trying.
6) I had a perfectly ripe pear today. Bartletts are my favorite pears, and they are hard to get at that perfect moment of ripe. They go off so fast. The one I took in my lunch today was at that moment where it was still a little firm but perfectly sweet and juicy. I had it this afternoon during my planning period for a snack. It finished the day off wonderfully.
Despite a few moments of frustration, it was a very good day. I'm off to enjoy more of it. If you happened to be a part of making a very good day for me, thank you very, very much.
(Not presented in order or rank, and not intended to imply that these things are comparable in importance)
1) I finally got a case of unsweetened Japanese green tea. ItoEn OiOcha, you ROCK. I have to dole it out a bottle at a time when I want to go suck it down like oxygen, but it's there, chilling in my fridge.
2) We have a snow day tomorrow. We almost didn't. The almighty powers that be first announced that the students would have the day but not faculty and staff. I was trying to figure out how I might be able to ski in over a couple of iced-over bridges if I had to when they revised their earlier statement and magnanimously decided we could all stay home. How nice.
3) Somebody called and woke me up when my alarm failed to go off this morning. My BlackBerry is dying, and I use it as my main alarm clock. Apparently, it thought it was playing its wakeup tone to beat the band, but no sound was coming out of it. ANOTHER battery-pull moment....sigh.... The phone call kept me from one of those awkward "I-need-a-sub-'cause-I'm-dumb" moments.
4) I saw four of my wonderful former students today and got to talk to them my whole lunch period. It was so good to see them and hear how they're doing with college life. I love it when I get to talk to my students again. This bunch is extra special, perhaps because I had them for two years. They're all finding their way toward such wonderful and exciting things, and getting to sit and talk with them again was a refreshing treat.
5) I signed up for my pottery class today. Monday night, I will have my hands in clay learning to form things from earth, water, and fire. I can hardly believe that it's finally going to happen. I hope these hands have aptitude for it. Even if they don't, at least I will have the satisfaction of trying.
6) I had a perfectly ripe pear today. Bartletts are my favorite pears, and they are hard to get at that perfect moment of ripe. They go off so fast. The one I took in my lunch today was at that moment where it was still a little firm but perfectly sweet and juicy. I had it this afternoon during my planning period for a snack. It finished the day off wonderfully.
Despite a few moments of frustration, it was a very good day. I'm off to enjoy more of it. If you happened to be a part of making a very good day for me, thank you very, very much.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Shakespeare Always Says It Best
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none. -- All's Well That Ends Well -- Shakespeare
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
I never know what to think whenever a book is hyped and praised as much as this one was. Frequently, I am deeply skeptical because some things become "media darlings" because of PR campaigns or certain celebrity's endorsements (cough -- OPRAH-- cough), but this one deserved all the credit it got. I'm still digesting all the ways it was wonderful, from the inclusion of all the visual elements in it, some of which are, quite frankly difficult to look at, to the storyline itself. It gently brings many hard issues up and deals with them in ways that I think are respectful but not soft. That's so very, very hard to do, to look at things as emotionally-charged as this issue is and still be able to tell a story that pulls the reader in so compellingly.
I will reread this one, but it will probably be a little while. Even though it's not a huge tome, it didn't take me long to read it. It will, however take me quite some time to finish letting the echoes of it die down.
Friday, January 01, 2010
The Last or the First
I'm sitting in a quiet living room writing what will either be my last post of 2009 or my first post of 2010 depending on how long it takes me to type it up. The house is clean, or cleaner, anyway, and the only sounds now are the distant hum of the dryer finishing up a load of towels and the purr of the cooling fan for the CPU on the two laptops I have running, one I'm using and one I'm updating. It's peaceful.
As is usual for me, I have all my candles in the living room lit to meet the new year with light. I am trying to bring my thoughts together to focus on what I want for the new year, as close to making new year's resolutions as I ever bring myself. This year, however, things are more shrouded in mist and mystery than in previous years. What do I want 2010 to be? Well, perhaps it would be good to think of different areas of my life and approach it from that method. So...
Home -- In the area of home this year, I'd like to spend more time in mine. I want to come home earlier so it doesn't seem that I live in my classroom. I'd like to see my family more, do more with them. This is going to mean putting forth some serious effort on my part to prepare meals, etc., but it will be worth it. I don't get to see everyone that often, and I miss them.
Friends -- I want to do more with my friends, too. I don't know that saying that I will see them on a regular basis is a realistic thing. Our lives are so complicated now and in many cases we are now so far from each other than it is simply not possible to do things together on the spur of the moment. I do know that I want to try to make sure that I see them more than I have done this year. The past two years have been bad ones for that, and I know that a great deal of the reason for that lies with me.
Job -- I don't know what to write here. I am most confused about this area. I guess I want clarity and stability here, even if that stability paradoxically comes from complete change.
Creativity -- I want the the wellspring of my creative soul to be cleaned out and to flow again. I think about the artesian well that sits on our property. From time to time, it silts in and has to be dug out. Right now, stress, lack of time, and every other conceivable thing are silting up my creative output in every area: writing, crafting, even dreaming it seems. Somehow this year, I want to enable that clear cold water to bubble up and give life back to my life again.
Love -- (and as I just saw the clock change, Happy New Year to You) -- I find myself with no wishes and no plans here. How odd. I've been told for years now that when the right one is ready, he'll come along. Perhaps that's true. If so, then nothing I do will hurry that moment. It may also be true that there is no "right one" hovering in the wings for me. That thought doesn't scare me like it used to, to be honest.
The silence has been broken by my neighbor's random firecrackers. The new year and new decade are officially here. It will be interesting to look back in a year to see if any of these things have made a difference.
As is usual for me, I have all my candles in the living room lit to meet the new year with light. I am trying to bring my thoughts together to focus on what I want for the new year, as close to making new year's resolutions as I ever bring myself. This year, however, things are more shrouded in mist and mystery than in previous years. What do I want 2010 to be? Well, perhaps it would be good to think of different areas of my life and approach it from that method. So...
Home -- In the area of home this year, I'd like to spend more time in mine. I want to come home earlier so it doesn't seem that I live in my classroom. I'd like to see my family more, do more with them. This is going to mean putting forth some serious effort on my part to prepare meals, etc., but it will be worth it. I don't get to see everyone that often, and I miss them.
Friends -- I want to do more with my friends, too. I don't know that saying that I will see them on a regular basis is a realistic thing. Our lives are so complicated now and in many cases we are now so far from each other than it is simply not possible to do things together on the spur of the moment. I do know that I want to try to make sure that I see them more than I have done this year. The past two years have been bad ones for that, and I know that a great deal of the reason for that lies with me.
Job -- I don't know what to write here. I am most confused about this area. I guess I want clarity and stability here, even if that stability paradoxically comes from complete change.
Creativity -- I want the the wellspring of my creative soul to be cleaned out and to flow again. I think about the artesian well that sits on our property. From time to time, it silts in and has to be dug out. Right now, stress, lack of time, and every other conceivable thing are silting up my creative output in every area: writing, crafting, even dreaming it seems. Somehow this year, I want to enable that clear cold water to bubble up and give life back to my life again.
Love -- (and as I just saw the clock change, Happy New Year to You) -- I find myself with no wishes and no plans here. How odd. I've been told for years now that when the right one is ready, he'll come along. Perhaps that's true. If so, then nothing I do will hurry that moment. It may also be true that there is no "right one" hovering in the wings for me. That thought doesn't scare me like it used to, to be honest.
The silence has been broken by my neighbor's random firecrackers. The new year and new decade are officially here. It will be interesting to look back in a year to see if any of these things have made a difference.
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