Matho Teacherus Babbleonia
It seems to hit almost at once,
From the moment they begin to talk,
Unfortunately, there’s no vaccine
yet engineered by that famous Dr. Salk.
I’d like to tell my math teacher
She bores me quite to death,
but the result would only be
one giant fat red “F.”
And so this incurable disease
will continue through the ages,
The only thing one can do is
blankly stare at the assigned pages.
composed by Tracy Wrighton
written between 1979 – 1989
discovered in spring cleaning of 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Always a Favorite -- "Mauricio's Song" by Eugene Gloria
From Mobil Gas he emerges
Like a Mack truck from the desert horizon.
You might think of bluefin tunas
Coursing the algid sea.
A man with a singular purpose
Always walks with his best foot forward-
Leans in to dusk, moon heavy on his back.
Mauricio has punched out at the station.
If you happen to see him
You might remark on the butterflies-
The small cloud of yellow, speckled wings
Fluttering like wayward kites around him.
You might even reconsider
Your faith in miracles,
Your capacity
To comprehend the mystery.
You could be going to the market
And have already made a list.
You could be as still as a tinsel tree
Illuminated by a spinning color wheel
In a room of immobile silhouettes.
You could have your face
Pressed against the windowpane-
Your chest, a bodiless blouse
And puffy as our Winter faces.
You could be standing in a living room
Full of boxes with your fears in tight little bundles.
You could be Mauricio Babilonia
On his way to a rendezvous, his hands
Cracked and stained with axle grease,
Black as the night gathering at his feet.
And butterflies, impossible and constant,
Brushing against his cheeks
Like a hundred kisses, the papery wings
Of golden monarchs calligraphed
With untranslatable sonnets for one Mauricio Babilonia
On his way to meet his love behind a wall
He will climb, but not fast enough
For the bullet that would seek out his heart.
Gloria, Eugene. Drivers at the Short-Time Motel. The national poetry series. New York: Penguin Books, 2000.
Like a Mack truck from the desert horizon.
You might think of bluefin tunas
Coursing the algid sea.
A man with a singular purpose
Always walks with his best foot forward-
Leans in to dusk, moon heavy on his back.
Mauricio has punched out at the station.
If you happen to see him
You might remark on the butterflies-
The small cloud of yellow, speckled wings
Fluttering like wayward kites around him.
You might even reconsider
Your faith in miracles,
Your capacity
To comprehend the mystery.
You could be going to the market
And have already made a list.
You could be as still as a tinsel tree
Illuminated by a spinning color wheel
In a room of immobile silhouettes.
You could have your face
Pressed against the windowpane-
Your chest, a bodiless blouse
And puffy as our Winter faces.
You could be standing in a living room
Full of boxes with your fears in tight little bundles.
You could be Mauricio Babilonia
On his way to a rendezvous, his hands
Cracked and stained with axle grease,
Black as the night gathering at his feet.
And butterflies, impossible and constant,
Brushing against his cheeks
Like a hundred kisses, the papery wings
Of golden monarchs calligraphed
With untranslatable sonnets for one Mauricio Babilonia
On his way to meet his love behind a wall
He will climb, but not fast enough
For the bullet that would seek out his heart.
Gloria, Eugene. Drivers at the Short-Time Motel. The national poetry series. New York: Penguin Books, 2000.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
It's Still A Man's World
Fanboys can't understand female existential problems unless women are wearing skin tight catsuits. The Dark Knight? Really?
The AV Club's list of the best movies of the 00's
• indicates I’ve seen this movie:
50. Oldboy
49. Gerry
48. Crimson Gold
47. Moulin Rouge • (this was fun, but, in the style of Amy Poehler, "Really?")
46. Adaptation • (I concur. Meryl Streep was phenomenal.)
45. Audition
44. 4 Months, 3 Weeks And 2 Days
43. Brokeback Mountain • (Slow. Beautiful. Heart crushing when he embraces that shirt.)
42. L’Enfant
41. The Dark Knight • (Puh-leeze. It stretched the genre probably farther than it's been stretched before, but there are only three stellar elements: Heath Ledger's performance; Aaron Eckhart's performance; and the tailoring. Did anyone else think they were watching a British GQ photo shoot?)
40. City of God
39. The Prestige
38. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring • (I love this film. Simple. Beautiful. And, now I want to live on a spinning house in the middle of a lake.)
37. A History of Violence • (I know this made some people puke or incited them to rage, but I thought it was an excellent visual treatise on why humans can be brutal. Plus, Viggo Mortensen and Ed Harris are in my top five film bromances.)
36. Pan’s Labyrinth
35. Waking Life • (Yes, sir.)
34. American Psycho • (I didn't like this film upon first viewing, but I've cultivated a taste for it since then. It reminds me of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. I didn't get that novel after the first experience, but I've found brilliant insights on the human condition from both works of art. It should be higher on the list.)
33. Punch Drunk Love • (Yes, ma'am. Preserve the whimsy.)
32. A.I.: Artificial Intelligence • (This possibly contains the best performance of Jude Law's on film. I've only seen it once, but I remember being surprised and impressed. If I remember correctly, I had an intellectual reaction to this film. Usually Spielberg manages to manipulate a visceral reaction to his work.)
31. In The Mood For Love
30. WALL-E
29. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
28. Morvern Callar
27. What Time Is It There?
26. The Incredibles • (I prefer Finding Nemo. The Triplets of Belleville should have made this list. Robbed!)
25. Together
24. Yi Yi
23. The Man Who Wasn’t There
22. United 93
21. Zodiac
20. The Squid And The Whale
19. The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers • (Ugh. And, I love me some Viggo, but...ugh.)
18. Mulholland Dr. • (Brilliant. Weird. Best evocation of dream consciousness in film.)
17. The Royal Tenenbaums • (The best film on whimsical depression ever made. The best film on group existential depression ever made. In my opinion.)
16. Almost Famous • (Whatever. It made Kate Hudson relevant, and we've been stuck with her "acting" ever since. I prefer Fast Times and I miss Judge Reinhold. I'm just saying.)
15. Y Tu Mama Tambien • (Si, abuelita! The best and saddest beach movie ever made!)
14. Talk To Her
13. Grizzly Man
12. Before Sunset
11. Time Out
10. Children of Men
9. The New World
8. Capturing The Friedmans • (Stunning. Uncomfortable.)
7. Kill Bill Vol. 1 • (Aaaaaaahhhhhh! One of the best moviegoing experiences I have ever had. When the "To be continued" graphic came up, I cried out, "Noooooooooo!")
6. Spirited Away • (Pure amazingness. I don't want to know people who haven't viewed it. Masterpiece, y'all.)
5. Memento • (Color me underwhelmed.)
4. No Country For Old Men
3. There Will Be Blood
2. 25th Hour • (Crazy good. Ed Norton delivers one of the best soliloquies on film with his enraged valentine to New York. It left me wanting more.)
1. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind • (Was it this good? I remember raving for it after seeing the movie. Have I watched it more than twice? Do I need to? Did this usher in all the emo pretentiousness, and now I resent it mightily because of the unsightly sin of skinny pants on men?)
Friday, December 11, 2009
Nobody Inches As Fiercely As This Turtle
Saturday, December 5, 2009 -- I moved as quickly as lightnin' molasses. Only time-capture photography could permanently document my promenade from the bottom of the Hill to the Au Bon Pain across the street. Blink, and I would be in the same damn spot. Blink, drop off some clothes at the dry cleaner, order a caramel macchiato from Starbucks, and I would be in the same damn spot. All for a hot chocolate. From Au Bon Pain. I'd actually prefer a Starbucks confection, but there is never a seat with the laptop mafia bogarting all the seats. So, I had to cross the street, and risk my life with wonky traffic lights and Boston drivers. Just to have a second-rate hot chocolate. But, molasses can't complain, cuz it's living for the city (although sluggishly).
Monday, December 7 & Tuesday, December 8, 2009 -- I had accumulated some speed. Now, I had the pace of a gasping tortoise. The first destination was the doctor's office, and the trip was trepidatious, but Miles Davis bless MGH, there are no bloody inclines. The second trip was a passionate journey of inches in the dark to the West End branch of the BPL to vote in the special primary. To summarize: my guy didn't win and that library is in desperate need of soft seating. Seriously, I didn't need three splinters in my tortoise be-hind while I sucked for air.
Friday, December 11, 2009 -- Another trip to the doctor's office, but it was an icy day with ill-mannered winds. Perhaps it was the cold, but I had a bit of giddy-up in my git-a-long. I scooted, yes, scooted, up the hill. Kiss my tortoise maximus, incline! I almost tap danced, but I couldn't release the deathgrip on the stair rail. Still, I have another gear besides 1st (tenderly inching), and 2nd (fiercely inching), and I am glad.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
The Sky Is Not Falling
I think humans can be amazing, brilliant and loving creatures, but I would say one of our greatest flaws is our horrible communication skills.
Imagine being told awesome news, but still wobbling home semi-hysterical and having no choice but to nap because it feels like the Pru just fell on you.
Thank heavens for patience, dogs and the ability to slumber during the day.
Friday, August 8, 2008
ICA - Live music, silent meditation, and Anish Kapoor
I found myself at the ICA last week experiencing music and art. At first, I lounged on The Back Patio watching the water while listening to live music. The atmosphere was great despite the stuffy air. I wish I lived closer because I would definitely take advantage of the free music and the beautiful surroundings on Thursday nights. I was with others, but I spotted people by themselves just unwinding after work with books or dreamy gazes. The music wasn't great. I think I was expecting something with more Brazilian beats and tempos, but it just sounded like "easy listening" jazz, which I don't enjoy. If the musicians don't want to challenge ears with unusual beats, silences, or noise, I prefer to hear tried-and-true swing and/or samba. But, I still enjoyed myself because a soul can buy drinks and just camp out on the benches overlooking the water. The vibe reminds me of Bryant Park in New York. But, it's much tinier and more obvious when you people watch. And, I don't wear sunglasses.
The ICA really does have one of the best views in town, and I'm very appreciative that there's a way to appreciate it without having to enter the museum. I just love watching the water, and seeing how the sun sets. One of the best things I observed was this tiny girl in a rocking outfit. She must have been six or seven years old. She was dressed in black--a black halter top with a red heart paired with frilly black pants. The pants had tiny ruffles from the waistband down to the hemlines. The pants were so adorable, and she totally rocked her look. Her hair was in a sharp bob and her feet were shod in purple crocs. She attracted a lot of attention as she dashed madly around adults. Normally, I find the presence of young children annoying when cocktails are being served. But, the bold fashion and haphazard running just enhanced my chill.
We were at the ICA to see a performance linked to the special project exhibition, Momentum 11: Nicholas Hlobo. Hlobo has art installed in one of the galleries on the top floor at the ICA. I admired his art that was installed in the gallery. The three-dimensional object that inserted itself through one of the gallery walls was beautiful, and instantly reminded me of Petah Coyne. It was a giant hanging rubber organ that bulged midair but narrowed as it approached the wall, cut into it, and then burst out on the other side with entrails of ribbon, plastic and rubber. Wall pieces consisted of large unmounted paper pierced by ribbon in a lacing pattern. From far away, it had the effect of an incomplete topographical map. Closer, the art had more of a sensual impact. In addition to the ribbon lacing (immediately I flashed back to my Montessori preschool's lacing toys), Hlobo would blend in some crocheted yarn or rubber pieces to the work. I found the built-up forms fascinating, especially has I had done something familiar with Baba Lala's house. I'm remembering that the gallery's light was diffused by pink gel. I don't know if the pink lights were meant to either differentiate the space from the other galleries (walls and the art usually do that for me) or enhance the art experience (I find that a bit stagey).
The performance consisted of Hlobo appearing in a natty costume and attaching himself to another wall piece. This piece was in the corner and consisted of ribbons entwined with rubber emerging from the wall and terminating to a headpiece lying on a mat of what resembled moss. Hlobo appears without introduction, sits on the mat, and meticulously puts on the headpiece to completely cover his bound dreadlocks. He then meditates for a time. I'm not sure what happens afterward because I left after watching him sit silently and/or fidget with the headpiece for 15 minutes. I'd rather have my attention arrested by a piece of art and lose track of time and space that way.
I couldn't help compare Hlobo's performance to last summer's performance piece by Ernesto Pujol, The Water Carrier. Both performers wore costumes referencing the past--Pujol in his 15th century sailor costume, and Hlobo in a black robe ornamented by a ruffled collar--and both performers linked themselves to the building. Pujol started his performance piece as if he were a piece of the museum, as if a memory had awakened and detached itself to complete a journey. Instead of detaching from the museum, Hlobo plugs into the wall. I wondered if he heard the same cranky complaints that Pujol reported on his blog. I wondered if the building was in a better mood this summer. But, I'll never know because Hlobo silently remains on the moss pad with crossed legs and no expression. His audience is left to contemplate him and come to their own conclusion. My conclusion was to check out and look at the Street Level exhibit again.
I also quickly romped through the Anish Kapoor exhibit and I was mildly disappointed. It was a like a funhouse exhibit. There were loosely formed lines to "experience" the art, and people were very animated--lots of movement and talking. But, I found it irritating. Too much like the P.S. 1 part of the Olafur Eliasson's retrospective in New York. It was a scene, it was not an exhibit. I looked around to see where the funnel cakes and cotton candy were being sold. I'm a huge Kapoor fan, but I had a better experience viewing his work in his Soho gallery.
The ICA really does have one of the best views in town, and I'm very appreciative that there's a way to appreciate it without having to enter the museum. I just love watching the water, and seeing how the sun sets. One of the best things I observed was this tiny girl in a rocking outfit. She must have been six or seven years old. She was dressed in black--a black halter top with a red heart paired with frilly black pants. The pants had tiny ruffles from the waistband down to the hemlines. The pants were so adorable, and she totally rocked her look. Her hair was in a sharp bob and her feet were shod in purple crocs. She attracted a lot of attention as she dashed madly around adults. Normally, I find the presence of young children annoying when cocktails are being served. But, the bold fashion and haphazard running just enhanced my chill.
We were at the ICA to see a performance linked to the special project exhibition, Momentum 11: Nicholas Hlobo. Hlobo has art installed in one of the galleries on the top floor at the ICA. I admired his art that was installed in the gallery. The three-dimensional object that inserted itself through one of the gallery walls was beautiful, and instantly reminded me of Petah Coyne. It was a giant hanging rubber organ that bulged midair but narrowed as it approached the wall, cut into it, and then burst out on the other side with entrails of ribbon, plastic and rubber. Wall pieces consisted of large unmounted paper pierced by ribbon in a lacing pattern. From far away, it had the effect of an incomplete topographical map. Closer, the art had more of a sensual impact. In addition to the ribbon lacing (immediately I flashed back to my Montessori preschool's lacing toys), Hlobo would blend in some crocheted yarn or rubber pieces to the work. I found the built-up forms fascinating, especially has I had done something familiar with Baba Lala's house. I'm remembering that the gallery's light was diffused by pink gel. I don't know if the pink lights were meant to either differentiate the space from the other galleries (walls and the art usually do that for me) or enhance the art experience (I find that a bit stagey).
The performance consisted of Hlobo appearing in a natty costume and attaching himself to another wall piece. This piece was in the corner and consisted of ribbons entwined with rubber emerging from the wall and terminating to a headpiece lying on a mat of what resembled moss. Hlobo appears without introduction, sits on the mat, and meticulously puts on the headpiece to completely cover his bound dreadlocks. He then meditates for a time. I'm not sure what happens afterward because I left after watching him sit silently and/or fidget with the headpiece for 15 minutes. I'd rather have my attention arrested by a piece of art and lose track of time and space that way.
I couldn't help compare Hlobo's performance to last summer's performance piece by Ernesto Pujol, The Water Carrier. Both performers wore costumes referencing the past--Pujol in his 15th century sailor costume, and Hlobo in a black robe ornamented by a ruffled collar--and both performers linked themselves to the building. Pujol started his performance piece as if he were a piece of the museum, as if a memory had awakened and detached itself to complete a journey. Instead of detaching from the museum, Hlobo plugs into the wall. I wondered if he heard the same cranky complaints that Pujol reported on his blog. I wondered if the building was in a better mood this summer. But, I'll never know because Hlobo silently remains on the moss pad with crossed legs and no expression. His audience is left to contemplate him and come to their own conclusion. My conclusion was to check out and look at the Street Level exhibit again.
I also quickly romped through the Anish Kapoor exhibit and I was mildly disappointed. It was a like a funhouse exhibit. There were loosely formed lines to "experience" the art, and people were very animated--lots of movement and talking. But, I found it irritating. Too much like the P.S. 1 part of the Olafur Eliasson's retrospective in New York. It was a scene, it was not an exhibit. I looked around to see where the funnel cakes and cotton candy were being sold. I'm a huge Kapoor fan, but I had a better experience viewing his work in his Soho gallery.
Friday, August 1, 2008
At least I didn't have my firebomb scenario...
I went to see Step Brothers starring Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly. It was surprisingly glorious. I have to say the man-chemistry between Ferrell and Reilly is so awesome. They just made it onto my man-couples list:
1. Peter Falk - Alan Arkin
2. Vince Vaughn - Jon Favreau
3. George Clooney - Brad Pitt
4. Will Ferrell - John C. Reilly
5. John Amos - Jimmie Walker
6. Paul Newman - Robert Redford
7. Bill Murray - Jeffrey Wright
8. Brad Pitt - Robert Redford
9. Robert De Niro - Al Pacino
10. Jerry Orbach - Benjamin Bratt
1. Peter Falk - Alan Arkin
2. Vince Vaughn - Jon Favreau
3. George Clooney - Brad Pitt
4. Will Ferrell - John C. Reilly
5. John Amos - Jimmie Walker
6. Paul Newman - Robert Redford
7. Bill Murray - Jeffrey Wright
8. Brad Pitt - Robert Redford
9. Robert De Niro - Al Pacino
10. Jerry Orbach - Benjamin Bratt
Friday, July 25, 2008
His name is Salvatore...can't be coincidence.
I just finished reading Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist, by Rachel Cohn & David Levithan. If you're from the Eighties, have any affinity for the Eighties, or you're addicted to romance--you should read this book. A key character in the story is "Salvatore," which is a name I love. One of my favorite poems features a "Salvatore." [The poet and his book are quite obscure, and I will now tear apart my apartment to find this poem. I think I turned it into a graphic poster because I loved it so much.]
And, I just came across a great interview with Salvatore Scibona. He's a former fellow, of the Mass. Cultural Council, and he discusses his experience as an author on their awesome (and getting better) blog, ArtSake. I'm going to quote the lines that made me swoon, but you should take the time to hit the blog and read the full interview. I'll post links below.
Mr. Salvatore Scibona:
These expressive and lovely ideas will now drive me to a bookstore where I can peruse his new novel, The End. The description on the book's website states that it's a "...about a single day in 1953 as lived by six people in an Ohio carnival crowd." I've requested the book through my library, but impatience might drive me to purchase it despite my scholar's income. As well as checking out this book, I will browse August: Osage County, Madonna's brother's dish-all, and keep desperately searching for the July Vogue Italia, which is the issue featuring black models (editorial, not ads, and, yes, that makes a difference).
Links:
ArtSake interview with Salvatore Scibona
The End
Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist
And, I just came across a great interview with Salvatore Scibona. He's a former fellow, of the Mass. Cultural Council, and he discusses his experience as an author on their awesome (and getting better) blog, ArtSake. I'm going to quote the lines that made me swoon, but you should take the time to hit the blog and read the full interview. I'll post links below.
Mr. Salvatore Scibona:
"But also, what could be more unlikely, more uncanny from a writer’s point of view, than that a stranger he will never know should walk down a street with years of the writer’s thoughts in her bag? A book is such an elegant technology, something so complex in such a crude device."
"The finished novel is like a house that stands on the ruins of a previous house that stood on the ruins of another house that was built on a meaningless little patch of ground."
These expressive and lovely ideas will now drive me to a bookstore where I can peruse his new novel, The End. The description on the book's website states that it's a "...about a single day in 1953 as lived by six people in an Ohio carnival crowd." I've requested the book through my library, but impatience might drive me to purchase it despite my scholar's income. As well as checking out this book, I will browse August: Osage County, Madonna's brother's dish-all, and keep desperately searching for the July Vogue Italia, which is the issue featuring black models (editorial, not ads, and, yes, that makes a difference).
Links:
ArtSake interview with Salvatore Scibona
The End
Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sure Signs of Spring
I was walking down the street and got that sweet, strong whiff of doo doo. People with kids and dogs know that smell. Looking around, I spied that a crew had spread new peat around the trees by the sidewalk. Aaaah! The peat signals that someone has expectations of growth. Winter tension just unraveled from my shoulders. Left it on the curb.
I stepped off the train. Warm air. Blue skies and an air of bonhomie. As I descended the flight of steps, a tickle started in my heart. You know it's spring when a young lady's thoughts turn to cute shoes and pedicures.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Good morning, Sunshine
Another space shuttle mission is underway. The mission crew along with the space station personnel are going to add the first part of a Japanese module to the station. Also being assembled on the outside of the station is Dextre. He's a Canadian robot with arms and gripper hands. He'll cut down on the amount of time a EVA takes up. (E.V.A. - Extra Vehicular Activity or a space walk.) His first arm was attached yesterday. Three of his robot friends showed up at the shuttle launch to celebrate his trip to space. Although some grumbling about the Three Laws of Robotics and equal rights were heard, the mood was cheery.
Songs that have been used to wake up the space crew:
"Linus & Lucy" -- A Charlie Brown Christmas
"Godzilla" -- Blue Oyster Cult
"Turn, Turn, Turn" -- The Byrds
"We're Going to Be Friends" -- The White Stripes
I tried to decide which song I would want to be awakened with in space, and here's what I came up with:
"Take Me Home (Country Roads)" -- Toots and the Maytals
shout out to my Jamaican and Pennsylvania roots
"Cherry Bomb" -- Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
yeah, i said it!
"Heartache Tonight" -- The Eagles
I'm ret and rarin' to go!
"Return of Django" -- Lee Perry & the Upsetters
Jamaica, again! Plant the Black, Gold & Green, guhl!
"Turn Me On" -- Nina Simone
"like a lightbulb in a dark room, I'm just waitin' for you to turn me on..." how apropos, non?
Holey Moley! How could I forget?
"Pennsylvania Polka"
shout out to my home state, y'all!
Holey Moley! How could I forget?
"Pennsylvania Polka"
shout out to my home state, y'all!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Meeting President Susan Scrimshaw
After the first forum meeting to discuss the hate mail (see previous posts) sent to a Simmons professor, I made an appointment to meet President Susan Scrimshaw. Only ten minutes were allotted for the time with the President, so I wanted to have at least three points to bring up from my side of the table. This is what I came up with:
With those talking points burned into my brain, I met President Scrimshaw. She's awesome. We discussed what was said about the library. She clarified that she believed the unwelcoming attitude and atmosphere were being created before guests were entering the library. The guests in questions were teenagers participating in a summer program using Simmons' facilities. I remember that Upward Bound used the library a lot during the summer; and foreign exchange students made their home at Simmons at the same time. Usually, these groups are given an orientation and tour before their programs begin--much like the admissions tours that go year-round. My suggestion was that the tour guides feel free to stop at the circulation desk and introduce their group to the desk workers. Especially during the summer, the patron traffic is infrequent. Stopping for a moment to exchange greetings with new patrons wouldn't be a big deal.
Then, I reiterated that a forum for students should be organized. Lo, and behold! The Diversity Council and the Office of Multicultural Affairs were hosting a forum the next day. President Scrimshaw mentioned green fliers around campus (yes, I saw them afterward--easy to pick out by the color, but teeny-tiny type and not easily scanned). After the meeting, I noticed that the event was posted on the Announcements web page on MySimmons. That one was easy.
The rest of our meeting turned to more personal topics. Honestly, I was impressed. I was cautiously hopeful about how the incident was going to be handled after talking to President Scrimshaw. Cautiously--because I'm big believer in waiting for action and not betting the rent on just talk.
The coolest thing about the meeting was the example of leadership that President Scrimshaw provided. She was open, confident and ready to exchange ideas. It was very different from the last experience I had with a college president. I "hung out" with the president of my former college. We tipped a pint back together--he was awfully diffident, awfully British. I definitely wasn't inspired, just disconcerted. I was a true freshman back then. Back to the future, President Scrimshaw gave me a template of the kind of leader I want to be.
Before attending Simmons, I sort of pooh-poohed female colleges. My take was you eventually have to join the world of men upon graduation, so you might as well get used to them. I've changed my stance a bit. At a women's college, you get to see women leaders close-up not compromising themselves or accommodating the male prerogative that is embedded in US society. And, a light goes on, "Oh! That's how you do it." I don't think I would single-sex my kid's entire education, but I definitely see how there's an advantage for girls to get rid of the boys for a while.
[I will post about the student forum soon.]
- The library is not an unwelcoming place, at least, not fundamentally. I have observed with my own eyes and ears how every librarian from the top down to student workers strives to make the library inclusive and easy-to-use. So, if there's a negative perception about the library, I wanted to zero in on what was causing the perception and change it.
- A forum such as the one that happened the previous week needed to be repeated for students. The response at the forum was extremely positive and displayed strength--not the intended result of whoever authored the hate mail.
- The culture of micro-insults that exists in the hallways wasn't limited to just race and gender--ageism exists at Simmons, too.
With those talking points burned into my brain, I met President Scrimshaw. She's awesome. We discussed what was said about the library. She clarified that she believed the unwelcoming attitude and atmosphere were being created before guests were entering the library. The guests in questions were teenagers participating in a summer program using Simmons' facilities. I remember that Upward Bound used the library a lot during the summer; and foreign exchange students made their home at Simmons at the same time. Usually, these groups are given an orientation and tour before their programs begin--much like the admissions tours that go year-round. My suggestion was that the tour guides feel free to stop at the circulation desk and introduce their group to the desk workers. Especially during the summer, the patron traffic is infrequent. Stopping for a moment to exchange greetings with new patrons wouldn't be a big deal.
Then, I reiterated that a forum for students should be organized. Lo, and behold! The Diversity Council and the Office of Multicultural Affairs were hosting a forum the next day. President Scrimshaw mentioned green fliers around campus (yes, I saw them afterward--easy to pick out by the color, but teeny-tiny type and not easily scanned). After the meeting, I noticed that the event was posted on the Announcements web page on MySimmons. That one was easy.
The rest of our meeting turned to more personal topics. Honestly, I was impressed. I was cautiously hopeful about how the incident was going to be handled after talking to President Scrimshaw. Cautiously--because I'm big believer in waiting for action and not betting the rent on just talk.
The coolest thing about the meeting was the example of leadership that President Scrimshaw provided. She was open, confident and ready to exchange ideas. It was very different from the last experience I had with a college president. I "hung out" with the president of my former college. We tipped a pint back together--he was awfully diffident, awfully British. I definitely wasn't inspired, just disconcerted. I was a true freshman back then. Back to the future, President Scrimshaw gave me a template of the kind of leader I want to be.
Before attending Simmons, I sort of pooh-poohed female colleges. My take was you eventually have to join the world of men upon graduation, so you might as well get used to them. I've changed my stance a bit. At a women's college, you get to see women leaders close-up not compromising themselves or accommodating the male prerogative that is embedded in US society. And, a light goes on, "Oh! That's how you do it." I don't think I would single-sex my kid's entire education, but I definitely see how there's an advantage for girls to get rid of the boys for a while.
[I will post about the student forum soon.]
Monday, March 10, 2008
Essential Blog for MA Artists & Art Lovers
I discovered a new blog at the Massachusetts Cultural Council called ArtSake. I've already discovered two great items: weekend passes for the CRAFTBOSTON show will be available at 200 public libraries AND the heartening news of a grant for women artists over 35.
First Item
Thanks to a very generous donation by CRAFTBOSTON, 200 public libraries throughout Massachusetts will have 10 weekend passes available for their members to attend the CRAFTBOSTON event March 28-30, 2008 at Boston’s Seaport World Trade Center. CRAFTBOSTON is sponsored by The Society of Arts and Crafts.
Link to Pass Out on ArtSake
Second Item
I am proud to report that one of our commonwealth’s very own, Jill Slosberg-Ackerman (Drawing Fellow ‘06), has been awarded a prestigious grant from the foundation Anonymous Was a Woman.
If you are not familiar with the foundation, its name refers to a line in Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. As the name implies, the nominators and those associated with the program are un-named, and artists are unaware that they are being considered for the award. The program was started in response to elimination of National Endowment for the Arts grants to individual artists. Awards are $25,000 each and recognize the work of women artists over the age of 35.
This year’s other winners include Miriam Beerman, Lois Conner, Petah Coyne, Agnes Denes, Diane Edison, Paula Hayes, Joan Semmel, Leslie Thorton, and Carrie Mae Weems. 121 such awards have been made over the past 12 years.
Link to Who Are You on ArtSake
I think it's awesome that CRAFTBOSTON is making free passes available through public libraries. If you want to find out which Massachusetts public libraries have the passes go to CRAFTBOSTON's website and sniff around the News Room page. The list is part of a press release. I will say that the BPL is well-represented--shout out to Main Branch and West End--and passes are available at the Brookline Public Library. You have to be a member of the library to check out the passes. If you're not an official member already, bring a picture i.d. and some mail with your address to the relevant branch. 1-2-3, presto! You should be hooked up for an awesome day of crafts browsing (sorry, Etsy, sometimes you just gotta see and touch it in person). A birdy told me this year the Society of Arts & Crafts will provide a way for people to identify immediately the affordable items at a vendor's stall. Start stuffing the cookie jar for a springtime splurge, y'all.
---
I love that there's a stealth grant exists for women artists over 35. Like the flying finger of fate, BOOM!, twenty-five grand lands in your lap to get you to the next stage of your artistic growth. It's very hush-hush because I couldn't even find a website for it. Foundation members' identities are secret, and the artists don't know they're being nominated or considered until they get word about the check coming their way.
I only found two web articles via Google about the foundation--no serious search using my super-powered e-databases at my college library. If you want to search for yourself, keep the verb tense correct: 'was,' not 'is.' If you use the present tense, you're bound to find a personal blog and whatnot. One of the articles, found cached on absolutearts.com, uses the grant recipients' own words to illustrate how necessary and wonderful this grant is for women artists.
The other article provides some background information about the grant and can be found by clicking this link. (I didn't link the absolutearts.com article because I think Google has cached it and therefore pulling it up can be sticky, but not impossible.) Both articles are from before 2005, and I find it fascinating that there's nothing more recent about the award and the recipients. Let's get out there and promote these women artists! Why? Because one of them, Petah Coyne, is a favorite of mine.
I discovered Coyne at the Chicago Culture Center. She was on the top floor gallery in a splendid Beaux-Arts ballroom. Her accumulative sculptures entranced me as I wandered among them. They were familiar to me on some level--awake or asleep, I don't know. A woman came up to me, and very sweetly informed me she recognized them from nightmares. She was a complete stranger, but shared this personal information with me anyway. [I was compelled to take a vocational test sometime during high school. According to the test, the two careers for which I'm best suited are advertising account executive and priest.] I replied with wide eyes and pleasant sounds. To me, that's a successful gallery experience.
Congratulations to all the recipients of this year's award from Anonymous Was a Woman! I will soon be looking for you on the web and in the library.
I love that there's a stealth grant exists for women artists over 35. Like the flying finger of fate, BOOM!, twenty-five grand lands in your lap to get you to the next stage of your artistic growth. It's very hush-hush because I couldn't even find a website for it. Foundation members' identities are secret, and the artists don't know they're being nominated or considered until they get word about the check coming their way.
I only found two web articles via Google about the foundation--no serious search using my super-powered e-databases at my college library. If you want to search for yourself, keep the verb tense correct: 'was,' not 'is.' If you use the present tense, you're bound to find a personal blog and whatnot. One of the articles, found cached on absolutearts.com, uses the grant recipients' own words to illustrate how necessary and wonderful this grant is for women artists.
Another previous recipient explained, “For a woman things don’t get easier as one gets older, they get harder…[I]n my experience, the backlash becomes stronger and stronger against those women who have chosen or fallen outside of societal norms in terms of career, marriage and family. I’ve never felt the weight of society’s judgment more since I turned forty...
The other article provides some background information about the grant and can be found by clicking this link. (I didn't link the absolutearts.com article because I think Google has cached it and therefore pulling it up can be sticky, but not impossible.) Both articles are from before 2005, and I find it fascinating that there's nothing more recent about the award and the recipients. Let's get out there and promote these women artists! Why? Because one of them, Petah Coyne, is a favorite of mine.
I discovered Coyne at the Chicago Culture Center. She was on the top floor gallery in a splendid Beaux-Arts ballroom. Her accumulative sculptures entranced me as I wandered among them. They were familiar to me on some level--awake or asleep, I don't know. A woman came up to me, and very sweetly informed me she recognized them from nightmares. She was a complete stranger, but shared this personal information with me anyway. [I was compelled to take a vocational test sometime during high school. According to the test, the two careers for which I'm best suited are advertising account executive and priest.] I replied with wide eyes and pleasant sounds. To me, that's a successful gallery experience.
Congratulations to all the recipients of this year's award from Anonymous Was a Woman! I will soon be looking for you on the web and in the library.
CRAFTBOSTON Information
Dates and Hours
Friday March 28, 2008 10am - 6pm
Saturday March 29, 2008 10am - 6pm
Sunday March 30, 2008 11am - 5pm
Location
Seaport World Trade Center
200 Seaport Boulevard
Boston, Massachusetts 02210
The Seaport World Trade Center is wheelchair accessible.
Admission Prices
- General Admission $15
- Senior Citizens and SAC Members $12
- Children, 12 years and under Free
Admission tickets valid for readmission throughout the weekend.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Simmons College update - response to hate mail
The open meeting that divulged the details about the hate mail sent to an African-American professor at Simmons College occurred on Wednesday, Feb. 13, 2008. The campus newspaper, The Simmons Voice, appears weekly on Thursdays. I had little expectation of my letter being printed in the Feb. 14 issue. And, it wasn't.
News of the incident did make it to the front page. It was located in the bottom left hand corner. Below the fold. Left hand side. Underneath a large square picture of a t-shirt with a red mouth. Handwritten in large letters with a marker on the shirt was "Silence Kills."
Anyone who has studied media knows that the upper right-hand area of the front page is the most prominent place for a story to run. The story that ran in that position was "Guns are coming to Simmons." I think the 'guns' story is of importance. It communicates to the student population that security guards will soon be armed while also describing other security measures being implemented in response to the Virginia Tech incident last spring. I also can see its relevance to the recent N. Illinois University shooting. But, the article's slant bends towards what will happen, not what just happened.
The 'hate crime' incident is RIGHT NOW and has implications of great importance. I will say that the paper was delicate in handling the topic. They didn't name the professor; they didn't quote or describe the contents; therefore, they didn't have much substance to deliver in the article.
Please, keep in mind that this a weekly college paper. I don't know when they deliver their content to their publisher. I'm used to The Daily Free Press who stay up until 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. to deliver breaking news. And, The FreeP has a website where they can update content instantly.
Here's my fear. That the incident, the culture that propagated it, and the issues that surround it will remain abstract as long as they are restricted to the pages of a weekly paper. As of today, I haven't seen anything appear on the homepage of MySimmons, the place that has all the news fit to post for the student (grad & undergrad) body.
There have been four official mentions of the incident available to undergrads as of now.
Here's what was said in the "congratulatory" email from President Scrimshaw:
I declared that I would take my share of the load in my various identities. As a friend and daughter, I have reached out to many to let them know about what happened. And, I want to thank you for all of your responses. Your words and conversations have made my world safer and brighter.
As a student, I sent a letter to The Simmons Voice. I spoke to the president of the Student Government Association urging her to recreate the warmth and strength in Wednesday's forum for the student body. I plan to attend next week's SGA meeting.
As a librarian, I did reach out to co-workers and my boss. I wanted to post a link to my blog about the incident on the Access Services blog, so that the librarians would come together as a whole to discuss issues raised at Wednesday's meeting. One thread of discussion was how the library is perceived as unwelcoming, specifically to young black students. I don't believe this is true on a fundamental level, but the perception is seeping out there. As I don't think the library is rotten at its core, constructive remedies could be applied to stop the misunderstanding.
I'm still trying to formulate how to respond as a Dix Scholar and an artist. BUT, I WILL BE DOING SO, BELIEVE ME.
As an African-American, I'll be approaching the Dean of Multicultural Students, Lisa Smith-McQueenie. And, I plan to attend the next meeting of the Black Student Organization.
As a human, I am looking people in the eye. I'm smiling at them. I infuse a little warmth in my interactions. And, I'm so glad to say: it's working!
Much love,
Spinner
News of the incident did make it to the front page. It was located in the bottom left hand corner. Below the fold. Left hand side. Underneath a large square picture of a t-shirt with a red mouth. Handwritten in large letters with a marker on the shirt was "Silence Kills."
Anyone who has studied media knows that the upper right-hand area of the front page is the most prominent place for a story to run. The story that ran in that position was "Guns are coming to Simmons." I think the 'guns' story is of importance. It communicates to the student population that security guards will soon be armed while also describing other security measures being implemented in response to the Virginia Tech incident last spring. I also can see its relevance to the recent N. Illinois University shooting. But, the article's slant bends towards what will happen, not what just happened.
The 'hate crime' incident is RIGHT NOW and has implications of great importance. I will say that the paper was delicate in handling the topic. They didn't name the professor; they didn't quote or describe the contents; therefore, they didn't have much substance to deliver in the article.
Please, keep in mind that this a weekly college paper. I don't know when they deliver their content to their publisher. I'm used to The Daily Free Press who stay up until 5:00 or 6:00 a.m. to deliver breaking news. And, The FreeP has a website where they can update content instantly.
Here's my fear. That the incident, the culture that propagated it, and the issues that surround it will remain abstract as long as they are restricted to the pages of a weekly paper. As of today, I haven't seen anything appear on the homepage of MySimmons, the place that has all the news fit to post for the student (grad & undergrad) body.
There have been four official mentions of the incident available to undergrads as of now.
- the "Urgent Communication" email sent from President Scrimshaw alerting the Simmons general community of the incident and that an open meeting will occur
- the change of location for the meeting
- the "congratulatory" email sent from President Scrimshaw that praised the response and lessons learned at the open meeting
- The Simmons Voice article - "Simmons professor targeted in hate crime"
Here's what was said in the "congratulatory" email from President Scrimshaw:
Dear Students:
Thank you, Simmons! The standing-room only community gathering yesterday to condemn racism and affirm our commitment to an honest, open, and inclusive community was heartening. Already we have gotten some good suggestions for follow up. Yesterday, we heard about steps we can all begin to take now as individuals to make our community more welcoming and more respectful - a smile, a hello, acknowledgment for every one who helps make Simmons operate so well each day, and being there for each other. In the next weeks, I will be meeting with the Diversity Council, BAFAS members and President’s Council to talk about how we can translate our concerns & energy into action. I commit to sharing next steps through your student leadership. This was Simmons at its finest and I am very proud of our community.
Susan
I will be waiting to see what the next steps are and how Simmons is going to be sure that its undergraduate students take their share of the load. I have an appointment with President Scrimshaw next Tuesday at 3:10 p.m.
I declared that I would take my share of the load in my various identities. As a friend and daughter, I have reached out to many to let them know about what happened. And, I want to thank you for all of your responses. Your words and conversations have made my world safer and brighter.
As a student, I sent a letter to The Simmons Voice. I spoke to the president of the Student Government Association urging her to recreate the warmth and strength in Wednesday's forum for the student body. I plan to attend next week's SGA meeting.
As a librarian, I did reach out to co-workers and my boss. I wanted to post a link to my blog about the incident on the Access Services blog, so that the librarians would come together as a whole to discuss issues raised at Wednesday's meeting. One thread of discussion was how the library is perceived as unwelcoming, specifically to young black students. I don't believe this is true on a fundamental level, but the perception is seeping out there. As I don't think the library is rotten at its core, constructive remedies could be applied to stop the misunderstanding.
I'm still trying to formulate how to respond as a Dix Scholar and an artist. BUT, I WILL BE DOING SO, BELIEVE ME.
As an African-American, I'll be approaching the Dean of Multicultural Students, Lisa Smith-McQueenie. And, I plan to attend the next meeting of the Black Student Organization.
As a human, I am looking people in the eye. I'm smiling at them. I infuse a little warmth in my interactions. And, I'm so glad to say: it's working!
Much love,
Spinner
Two of my favorite things: space and football
On a positive note, it should be recognized that there is an African-American on the shuttle space team that's currently orbiting earth. His name is Leland Melvin, a former football player that turned to science when an injury ended his pro football career. He has an excellent entry on the NASA web page that explains how playing football gave him skills he utilizes on space missions. So cool! And, in case anyone didn't know, the current commander of the International Space Station is Peggy Whitson, a female.
The link to his website entry (which includes two mp3 interviews) is right here.
http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/behindscenes/profile_lelandmelvin.html
NASA is a world unto itself. This is a place where grown men sincerely and emphatically utter "Darn!" as an expletive. And, they're not being ironic or cheeky...it's serious when you hear "darn."
When the astronauts are up in space, Houston and ground control usually beam up a song to start off each day. Ground team asks family members to select a song for each astronaut. The first day after the shuttle meets up with the space station, usually the flight commander is serenaded in the morning. On the day Melvin was on tap to move the European section of the space lab from the shuttle to the space station, Houston beamed up "Fly Like An Eagle" to start Melvin's day. His sister picked it out. They just mentioned the song title, so I don't know if it was the Steve Miller or Seal version.
Anyway, this definitely cheered me up after a disturbing week at Simmons.
The link to his website entry (which includes two mp3 interviews) is right here.
http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/behindscenes/profile_lelandmelvin.html
NASA is a world unto itself. This is a place where grown men sincerely and emphatically utter "Darn!" as an expletive. And, they're not being ironic or cheeky...it's serious when you hear "darn."
When the astronauts are up in space, Houston and ground control usually beam up a song to start off each day. Ground team asks family members to select a song for each astronaut. The first day after the shuttle meets up with the space station, usually the flight commander is serenaded in the morning. On the day Melvin was on tap to move the European section of the space lab from the shuttle to the space station, Houston beamed up "Fly Like An Eagle" to start Melvin's day. His sister picked it out. They just mentioned the song title, so I don't know if it was the Steve Miller or Seal version.
Anyway, this definitely cheered me up after a disturbing week at Simmons.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Taking My Share of the Load
Someone tried to take down a faculty member of my college this week with a piece of vicious hate mail. I won't repeat verbatim what was written in this post, but I will just say the phrases "Go back to Africa" and "Remember the Jena 6" were used.
An open meeting was held to address the situation. Professors, college staff, and administrators flocked to the meeting. Indeed, the room wasn't big enough. Unfortunately, I didn't perceive a student presence as strong.
Too many students did not witness the positive reaction and beautiful show of support that the meeting evoked. I wrote this piece and submitted it to the student newspaper immediately afterward the meeting. I also approached the president of our student body and asked her that the SGA provide an opportunity for students to experience something like it.
I am not condemning the student body. All Simmons College students have the daily challenge of slicing hours of the day to accommodate our assignments, jobs and opportunities. I almost didn’t show up myself. Almost.
Maybe it’s because I’ve had hate shouted at me on the street or calmly directly at me in a classroom. Maybe because I’ve experienced how hate can keep my eyes down and make me hold my breath until I reach home. I know about the burden of hate and I would never let someone carry it alone. That’s why I showed up.
Professor Bailey stood and spoke the words that were meant to close mouths, lower eyes, and halt steps. These words weren’t meant for just Prof. Bailey. They were an assault on us. Our community. Our Simmons.
But, we were not bowed down. Of course, there was suffering and there was outrage. Then it happened. All of us present stood up as one and transformed shock and outrage into resolve and purpose. Instead of showing tears and shame, we created laughter and hope.
We resolved that the courage and support visible in that room would not end at the door. We would not let the memory of this meeting fade as deadlines and paperwork approached. Each of us as individuals would take the shared lessons and carry them out to those who were absent.
We learned to acknowledge each other. Now, our gazes will meet and we will trade smiles. We learned not to stay strangers with each other. We will not remain silent when another person says or does something hurtful. Because we will first hold ourselves accountable, we will not hesitate to hold others accountable as well.
Simmons College will be stronger because this burden does not rest on one set of shoulders. I have taken my share of the load, but it will be lightened as I stand up and speak to others in my role as a student. As a friend and a daughter. As an artist. As a Dix Scholar. As a library worker. As an African-American.
Because I am you. We are a community. We are Simmons.
An open meeting was held to address the situation. Professors, college staff, and administrators flocked to the meeting. Indeed, the room wasn't big enough. Unfortunately, I didn't perceive a student presence as strong.
Too many students did not witness the positive reaction and beautiful show of support that the meeting evoked. I wrote this piece and submitted it to the student newspaper immediately afterward the meeting. I also approached the president of our student body and asked her that the SGA provide an opportunity for students to experience something like it.
Taking My Share of the Load
Stepping into the meeting, I asked my professor, “Is this for students?” I was unsure because I recognized dozens of staff, professors, administrators and librarians, but I counted the number of students on two hands.I am not condemning the student body. All Simmons College students have the daily challenge of slicing hours of the day to accommodate our assignments, jobs and opportunities. I almost didn’t show up myself. Almost.
Maybe it’s because I’ve had hate shouted at me on the street or calmly directly at me in a classroom. Maybe because I’ve experienced how hate can keep my eyes down and make me hold my breath until I reach home. I know about the burden of hate and I would never let someone carry it alone. That’s why I showed up.
Professor Bailey stood and spoke the words that were meant to close mouths, lower eyes, and halt steps. These words weren’t meant for just Prof. Bailey. They were an assault on us. Our community. Our Simmons.
But, we were not bowed down. Of course, there was suffering and there was outrage. Then it happened. All of us present stood up as one and transformed shock and outrage into resolve and purpose. Instead of showing tears and shame, we created laughter and hope.
We resolved that the courage and support visible in that room would not end at the door. We would not let the memory of this meeting fade as deadlines and paperwork approached. Each of us as individuals would take the shared lessons and carry them out to those who were absent.
We learned to acknowledge each other. Now, our gazes will meet and we will trade smiles. We learned not to stay strangers with each other. We will not remain silent when another person says or does something hurtful. Because we will first hold ourselves accountable, we will not hesitate to hold others accountable as well.
Simmons College will be stronger because this burden does not rest on one set of shoulders. I have taken my share of the load, but it will be lightened as I stand up and speak to others in my role as a student. As a friend and a daughter. As an artist. As a Dix Scholar. As a library worker. As an African-American.
Because I am you. We are a community. We are Simmons.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Apples, cranberries, and stuffing! Oh my!
During the summer, my favorite snack was splitting up a Granny Smith apple, spritzing it with fresh lime juice, and tossing it all up with dried cranberries. Yummdiddilyumptious!
Early fall, this evolved into the sliced Granny Smith being slathered with cinnamon-raisin peanut butter and sprinkling it with dried cranberries. Awesome!
Late fall, I completely jumped off the tracks with the discovery of a bacon and chocolate candy bar. The bar is made by Vosges, creators of haut chocolate. They call it "Mo's Bacon Bar." It's a combination of smoked bacon, sea salt and deep milk chocolate. Genius!!! I was munching on it in class with someone, and we both agreed it could use some puffed rice.
Actually, we said Rice Krispies. But, a company that describes their product as "haut" probably shuns ingredients hawked by three elves. So I came up with this idea of making Rice Krispie cupcakes topped off by a bacon-chocolate frosting. With tiny bits of bacon sprinkled on top. I was preparing to make this masterpiece...
BUT THEN CAME THANKSGIVING.
My family is so invested in Thanksgiving, we have pre-Thanksgiving meals to warm up for the big feast.
Early fall, this evolved into the sliced Granny Smith being slathered with cinnamon-raisin peanut butter and sprinkling it with dried cranberries. Awesome!
Late fall, I completely jumped off the tracks with the discovery of a bacon and chocolate candy bar. The bar is made by Vosges, creators of haut chocolate. They call it "Mo's Bacon Bar." It's a combination of smoked bacon, sea salt and deep milk chocolate. Genius!!! I was munching on it in class with someone, and we both agreed it could use some puffed rice.
Actually, we said Rice Krispies. But, a company that describes their product as "haut" probably shuns ingredients hawked by three elves. So I came up with this idea of making Rice Krispie cupcakes topped off by a bacon-chocolate frosting. With tiny bits of bacon sprinkled on top. I was preparing to make this masterpiece...
BUT THEN CAME THANKSGIVING.
My family is so invested in Thanksgiving, we have pre-Thanksgiving meals to warm up for the big feast.
pre-Thanksgiving meals
World Famous Sloppy Joes
"the slurps heard 'round the world!"
Butternut Chutney
butternut chunks
chopped bell peppers [yellow, green, red]
carmelized onions
dried cranberries
peach, pineapple, & tomato salsa
Saute, serve in wraps & laissez les bon temps roulez, cher!
Practice Pies
"duplicates that are taste-tested to ensure
no nasty surprises await on the BIG DAY"
blueberry
pumpkin
Thanksgiving Meal
Tom Turkey
stuffing
mashed potatoes
green bean casserole
cranberry sauce (fresh, not canned)
buttermilk biscuits
drop biscuits
gravy
pumpkin pie
cherry pie
vanilla ice cream
whipped cream
My mom makes enough stuffing to feed a platoon of Marines. In my refrigerator, I have one casserole dish chock full of stuffing, a doggie-bag wrapped bundle of stuffing, and three 1-gallon bags bursting with stuffing. Other people descended on Tom Turkey like carrion birds, the biscuits were gone by breakfast the next morning, and the green beans & mashed potatoes were magically whisked away by somebody. Everybody gets gravy. We regard gravy like Telly Savalas regards moolah in Vegas: "When I got it, baby, everybody's got it!" But, the stuffing is mine. You want it, you gotta bleed for it.
I'm so happy every time I come home because it's time to heat up stuffing, which I roll up in a wrap with chilled cranberry sauce. Hurts so good!!!
World Famous Sloppy Joes
"the slurps heard 'round the world!"
Butternut Chutney
butternut chunks
chopped bell peppers [yellow, green, red]
carmelized onions
dried cranberries
peach, pineapple, & tomato salsa
Saute, serve in wraps & laissez les bon temps roulez, cher!
Practice Pies
"duplicates that are taste-tested to ensure
no nasty surprises await on the BIG DAY"
blueberry
pumpkin
Thanksgiving Meal
Tom Turkey
stuffing
mashed potatoes
green bean casserole
cranberry sauce (fresh, not canned)
buttermilk biscuits
drop biscuits
gravy
pumpkin pie
cherry pie
vanilla ice cream
whipped cream
My mom makes enough stuffing to feed a platoon of Marines. In my refrigerator, I have one casserole dish chock full of stuffing, a doggie-bag wrapped bundle of stuffing, and three 1-gallon bags bursting with stuffing. Other people descended on Tom Turkey like carrion birds, the biscuits were gone by breakfast the next morning, and the green beans & mashed potatoes were magically whisked away by somebody. Everybody gets gravy. We regard gravy like Telly Savalas regards moolah in Vegas: "When I got it, baby, everybody's got it!" But, the stuffing is mine. You want it, you gotta bleed for it.
I'm so happy every time I come home because it's time to heat up stuffing, which I roll up in a wrap with chilled cranberry sauce. Hurts so good!!!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wowsa, Wowsa!
I had a conversation today about how the postmodern Western world was catching up to the African experience of art. In traditional African art (the distinction must be made), an object was made to be used and transformed by the owner. It could be transformed by the adding of color, using the object in a ceremonial function, or performing with the object. But, the art was not made with the idea of being stuck to a wall and gazed upon by a walking stream of observers. Too many Westerners believe art appreciation is passively receiving the message contained in the art object. Standing and looking at a painting at the wall. Walking around with a headphone listening to some disembodied voice tell you about the painting on the wall. Sitting at a music hall or theater: listening to classical music or watching the ballet. There is applause expected from the audience. It is a strictly battened down "call and response" form of performance.
There has been a proliferation of venues, including 'respectable' museums, that provide a place to conduct time-based art, performance art, and installations which demand the audience do more than sit on their behinds or gaze with wide eyes. All of this contemporary art is not hidden in seedy alleys or off the mainstream map. It's right there to be sampled by anybody, educated or not. Is it because so much of popular culture is interactive? Blogging about ANTM, creating your own iMix, podcasting about hated celebrities...you can easily insert your opinion/experience into the ether. Why not expect the same from high culture when you enter that arena? Anyway, that was my hunch. I hadn't done any follow up research or exploration. Tripping through the 'internets,' I found this article on www.nytimes.com. Read it!!! The topic is in the same vein of my conversation and hunch, but comes up with a different reason. It's written by Natalie Angier, the author of one of my fave quotes: "If you are or ever have been a girl, you know that girls are aggressive. This is news the way the Code of Hammurabi is news."
THE DANCE OF EVOLUTION, OR HOW ART GOT ITS START
_____________________________________________________________
If you enjoyed the Mahler post, check out this blog/website that's devoted to classical composers, musicians, and performers of African descent.
AfriClassical.com
AfriClassical the Blog
AfriClassical the Blog
It's very interesting, especially finding out that Beethoven composed a piece for a black violinist. Except they had a falling out and Beethoven renamed it and gave it to someone else. Juicy!
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Strange Thing Is...
I'm reading this review of various vegetarian/vegan restaurants in San Francisco (because of the Bean & FGN). I'm very tempted to try Millennium. I love evoo, which is always pushing the balls against the wall with the myriad ingredients in their dishes. When they pull it off, the food sings and I'm having Sally-fits and declaring my undying love. As some of you have witnessed, I'm pledged to the chicken at Sel de le Terre...but possibly running off with the spaghetti bolognese at The Grotto. Seriously, I'm leading two entrees on. Possibly it's indicative of my commitment issues, but dammit! what if there's something better out there?
If you haven't guessed, I'm not a vegetarian...not even a 90% one. But, the food description of Millennium is so veddy, veddy tempting. Plus, I like fruits and vegetables...as long as they haven't been dried up to look like animal fetuses. I once bought a bag of nutritious, healthy fruit for snacking purposes. Imagine my surprise when I opened the bag and felt like I had just entered Gil Grissom's office. Yuck. Anyway, doesn't this sound delish?
"The restaurant's décor is derived from a board game developed by the owners and built into each table. It encourages diners to express gratitude for one another and for the bounty the universe has bestowed upon anyone likely to walk in the door. After seating us, the hostess looked in our eyes and asked, 'What's great about today?'"
Plus, dishes are named things like "I Am Succulent" and "I Am Rich." Ugh. I would so vomit. Normally, this kind of attitude would cause spitting and violence on my part. The strange thing is...the food sounds like it might be worth enduring this disgusting display of "goodness." Almond hummus with raw garlic? Yumm. The juices sound fantastic, too. If I'm in San Francisco, I might try this place. But, I'm going to act crazier than a rabid dog. Tin foil hat to keep out alien transmissions, barking like a dog, and a necklace of fingers. And, they'll have to accept it because they're such loving hippies.
Q: "What's great about today?"
A: "I peed without blood."
Catch the rest of the article, "Expanding the Frontiers of the Vegetarian Plate," on http://www.nytimes/. It's brought to you by American Express.
If you haven't guessed, I'm not a vegetarian...not even a 90% one. But, the food description of Millennium is so veddy, veddy tempting. Plus, I like fruits and vegetables...as long as they haven't been dried up to look like animal fetuses. I once bought a bag of nutritious, healthy fruit for snacking purposes. Imagine my surprise when I opened the bag and felt like I had just entered Gil Grissom's office. Yuck. Anyway, doesn't this sound delish?
"Such is Mr. Tucker's skill that the food at Millennium attains a gustatory cohesion not suggested by the eclectic ingredients. The shredded Indian Red peach salad ($8.95) — which, besides tender peaches, included baby heirloom lettuce, green papaya, chili-dusted peanuts, and the sweet zing of a light Thai lime leaf dressing — blossoms on the tongue like a bouquet."
So, Mr. Gregory Dicum has me completely dug in and drooling, and then he hits me with a slap to the face. He describes the experience that is Cafe Gratitude, possibly the most touchy-feely, let's-love-one-another-right-now place outside of Oprah's television studio.
"The restaurant's décor is derived from a board game developed by the owners and built into each table. It encourages diners to express gratitude for one another and for the bounty the universe has bestowed upon anyone likely to walk in the door. After seating us, the hostess looked in our eyes and asked, 'What's great about today?'"
Plus, dishes are named things like "I Am Succulent" and "I Am Rich." Ugh. I would so vomit. Normally, this kind of attitude would cause spitting and violence on my part. The strange thing is...the food sounds like it might be worth enduring this disgusting display of "goodness." Almond hummus with raw garlic? Yumm. The juices sound fantastic, too. If I'm in San Francisco, I might try this place. But, I'm going to act crazier than a rabid dog. Tin foil hat to keep out alien transmissions, barking like a dog, and a necklace of fingers. And, they'll have to accept it because they're such loving hippies.
Q: "What's great about today?"
A: "I peed without blood."
Catch the rest of the article, "Expanding the Frontiers of the Vegetarian Plate," on http://www.nytimes/. It's brought to you by American Express.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Biting Into Mahler
While riding the T, I have often made room for the crowds emptying out of Symphony Hall after a performance by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Thursday night, I finally became one of the chattering throng pushing their way home via the “E” Line.
To be honest, the thought of sitting and listening to orchestral music unaccompanied by a vocal or dance performance had never appealed to me. I’d rather crank up a CD at home where I can dance to it. Intuition tells me rising from one’s seat and doing grand jetés and impersonating a dying swan is outside the pale when attending the symphony. Most of the people I surveyed for “Who and What They Know” agreed with me. They’d rather go to a ballet performance than a classical music performance because the stimulus of a symphony was very hard to imagine.
They’ve obviously never encountered Prof. Gregory Slowik. An image of what was to come at Symphony Hall came to life as I listened to Prof. Slowik introduce and expound on the music that we would hear the following evening. Learning the history of the music and the featured composers was essential to creating anticipation for what was to follow.
As the distance between centuries grows, their history and customs can desiccate to irrelevant dust. Sustaining the arts means keeping its long dead creators fleshy and full of juice to quicken the new audience’s appetite. My favorite historical tidbit was learning of Mahler’s Judaic faith and how it hindered his inclusion in a Roman Catholic patronage system. Prof. Slowik’s asserted that the tweaking of “Frére Jacques,” and the presence of klezmer and gypsy glissandos constituted a grand thumbing of the nose to the powers that be. Immediately, my imagination was piqued and I began to consider how these sounds might be realized by a live orchestra.
The BSO performs at Symphony Hall, “one of the two or three finest concert halls in the world.1” The space seems smaller than the Wang Theater, which might explain why all the seats were filled for the BSO and there were notable gaps at the Boston Ballet. However, it did seem like the same crowd was in attendance—older, Caucasian and seemingly affluent. More foreign tongues were heard and there were no children present at the BSO.
Three pieces were performed in this order: Haydn’s Symphony No. 104 in D, “London;” Elliott Carter’s Horn Concerto (2006), and Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 in D. The music’s order was confusing at first. Haydn’s music seemed more accessible for enjoyment, but it was first in line. The Boston Ballet put its crowd-pleaser at the end and the more esoteric piece up front. I wondered if it was my general ignorance of classical music traditions, or if the BSO has the influence to demand more of its audiences.
The Haydn piece would be the one that would cause me to drop my overcoat to reveal my tutu and ballet superpowers. The melody was so lively and irrepressible. The Haydn really started the night with an energetic bounce. Being forced to sit still during music that so beckons movement in response is a challenge. James Levine, the conductor, is the luckiest man in the room because he has the right to move along with the music.
Despite Haydn’s sprightly tempo, Levine managed to fit the “minimalist” mold that Prof. Slowik described in his pre-performance lecture. His movements were circumscribed and didn’t distract from the wonderful music being played. The second piece by Elliott Carter was a distinct departure from the Haydn. Carter’s music was more of a tone poem. His music inspired my mind to paint blocks of color marred by contrasting trickles, depicting an urban scene in broad, impressionistic strokes. The performance was a world debut, and Carter was on hand to hear it and come on stage to accept a standing ovation.
The evening concluded with a delicious performance of Mahler. Levine threw off his minimalist cloak and exhorted his orchestra with every inch of his body including his hair. At times, I thought he might fall off his chair. The conducting style was so different from the first half, I wondered if Levine was so passionate because of his love of Mahler, or did the piece demand the conductor to physically communicate the strength and commitment needed to perform the piece? The charged music seemed to create a magnetic force pulling everyone towards center stage.
The long standing ovation left my hands tingling and tender. After Levine and the musicians took their last bows, I streamed out with the excited crowd into the street and down into the Green Line tunnels. I understood the program’s order only after feasting on the night’s music. Haydn’s composition was a refreshing surprise to whet the appetite. Carter’s Horn Concerto (2006) served up a nourishing slice of introspection. The succulent Mahler performance was meant to be ravished and I fell on the music with pleasure. As I crowded onto the subway, I hoped no one noticed the juice dribbling down my chin.
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