Sunday, August 26, 2007

A Long "Cool" Story











I have been to the mountain again! This wonderful week has ended (BYU Education Week) and I can't begin to tell you how amazing it was. The mountains were gorgeous, the flowers were in full bloom, and the teachers were superb. While they offered a variety of classes in Communication and Finance, History, Religion, Government and Political Science, Law, Literature, Psychology, and the Arts --this year I spent all my time in Music classes.

Marvin Goldstein is a concert pianist and comedian (in that order): "Two fellows, a Jew and a Chinaman, walk into a bar...The Jew punches the Chinaman in the nose and knocks him to the floor. He gets up and brushes himself off. "What was THAT for?" he asks. "That," says the Jew, "was for Pearl Harbor!" The Chinaman replies, "But WE didn't have anything to do with Pearl Harbor. That was the Japanese!" "Japanese, Chinese, they're all the same," says the Jew. The next day the same two fellows are in the bar and the Chinaman punches the Jew. He gets up off the floor and brushes himself off. "What was THAT for?" The Chinaman says, "For the Titanic!" The Jew says, "The TItanic! WE didn't have anything to do with the Titanic! That was an iceberg!" "Iceberg, Goldberg, they're all the same!" LOL (And no, I am not a racist, nor is Marvin Goldstein, but he was born in Israel, where he practiced and practiced the piano until he got really really good! His friend Marvin Payne, who does fantastic R & B, joined him. "You're Marvin and I'm Marvin," said Goldstein. "Who would do that to a little child? But your father is Marvin, too, isn't he? My father is SAM!" he boasts. Later, picking up Paynes guitar (which he cannot play), he strummed a spontaneously atonal little chord. "I used to be a Jew," he sang. "And I still am!" Even though he converted to Mormonism several years ago....

Jenny Oaks Baker is a concert violinist with many CD's to her credit. She used to be first violinist in the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington DC. She graduated from Julliard and Curtis Institute of Music, but is now raising 4 children under the age of 6. One of the phenomenal pieces she performed was Paganini's piece for unaccompanied violin, which she did flawlessly 10 years ago. "I'm going to try it again," she said, "but it's really,really HARD!" Her fingers flew across the strings. At one point she made a mistake, and started again. Then stopped, and started again, apologising. "Oh, my gosh!" she said. "I did it better than this in the bathroom this morning!" But she got a standing ovation anyway!

Michael Ballam (the guy with white hair) can't be compared to anyone else. He is the main reason I keep going back He's sung all over the world, and in New York, has made a ton of CD's. Now he is the founder and general director of the Utah Festival Opera Company. He is The Most Impressive of All. I'd follow him anywhere. He spoke on Music and the Brain. "In the arts there should be no wrong answer," he says. "The arts should be a safe environment, where you have permission to be unique." He also began the Utah Children's Opera in the public schools, where kids between the 2nd and 5th grades write, direct, perform, paint sets, publicize and finance their own operas with no adult input. They have 3 rules. Nobody Gets Hurt. Everybody Participates. It's Entirely the Children's Own Work. He went to the Utah school with the lowest grade averages, in the worst part of town, and gave every child a violin. They all learned to play. They performed. They practised the first 15 minutes of every class. (The math teachers were angry, at first, telling him they had little enough time to teach math as it was). Surprisingly, the academic scores began to rise, and now they're among the top in the state. The math teachers now have their own violins and they all play together for the first 15 minutes of class. "Not very well," admits Ballam. "But that's not what matters." He says, "The most important things a child can gain from education are a sense of community, the ability to communicate beyond words, and creative thinking. THese are much more important to know than that the capitol of Vermont is Montpelier."

James Oneil Miner played a lot of Golden Oldies: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, Autumn Leaves, Misty, that sort of thing....

Btw, I kept hearing myself describing things as "Cool." Isn't it just the most asinine thing to hear a woman old enough to be your grandma saying "Cool?" All I needed were some bongos and a headband.

Anyway, to make a long story longer, I took scads of notes. The turkey and cranberry and cream cheese sandwiches were out of this world, as was the burnt almond fudge ice cream cone I had. The weather was nice. And I am tired.


Lost in Translation: The legendary stone marker that announces the motto of BYU should read "The World is our Campus." The photo is not mine, and was probably meant as a joke, but it works for me either way. The campus is a world unto itself, as well as being a part of the world at large. BYU has a couple of other mottos: "The glory of God is intelligence," and "Enter to learn, go forth to serve." Next time I'll be more careful (or use my own camera). Thanks, slick.

*

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Some Things Are Not What They Seem...


Are square A and square B the same color? Trust me. They are! This illusion (called,
appropriately, the Same Color Illusion) shows that some scientific observations, even seemingly direct visual observation, may be inaccurate.

So there! (Well, we are only human....)


*Wikipedia, Edward H. Adelson

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Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Tarantula


I woke up this morning having dreamed of a tarantula on a rock. He was the same color as the rock, sort of a disguise (what is that called?), and when I poked him, he climbed off and crawled away....

This is one of the most detailed photos of the Tarantula Nebula, in our own local group of galaxies, taken by the ESO Observatory's Wide Field Imager. If the Tarantula was as close to us as the Orion Nebula, it would take up fully half the sky. Imagine that!

*

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

One More for the Road


One year old, and counting....

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Sunday, August 19, 2007

When The Family Gets Together









...and we learn to love each other popping corn and having fun....as the song goes. We didn't pop corn this time, but we all had a lot of fun during our week together. We visited Kennecott Copper Mine, a mini-Grand Canyon, went to a water party in the park, and ate hot dogs and potato chips and ice cream. We went swimming. We set off alka-seltzer rockets in the front yard, and flew styrofoam birds in the air. We "went to Mexico," as Simon says (actually, a Mexican restaurant) and stuffed ourselves full, had a terrific bar-b-que with sushi and watermelon, celebrated Bookworm and Starfsh's birthdays with cake and ice cream and lots of presents, found a mouse in the backyard, had a mouse funeral with flowers and a mouse elegy. Issac made a wonderful dinosaur with sticks and tape --see, it has a long tail, two big back legs and two small front legs, even tusks! Ate again at a cowboy buffet (we ate a lot), talked a lot, laughed a lot, and loved our week together. Good times like crazy!

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Thursday, August 16, 2007

PT: Better Late?


FROM THE CORRIDOR

wanting to be hidden,
I wait for the old woman in the bed

half-dead already, though not yet through
with dying, to quiet.
All along the window ledge
dead brown leaves blown across
the yard by a cold wet wind
grip against the glass with clarity
and precision of vein and broken edges.

She used to cry all the time
now she only whimpers and asks
with a voice that grasps like hands,
Are the holidays here?
Not yet, I say. That seems to satisfy
I do not know
and a voice in me wishes her away
or myself gone from this place
I am afraid
seeing myself in this white-lacquered bed
grasping toward strangers.

On Christmas Day the sky clears
and the splash of wind against water
sprawls ice and sighs on sidewalks and doorsteps
the boy brings the paper
which has, beside a picture of African
and American travelers getting out of their
vehicle at Nkongsambe, West Cameroon
a picture of the Branchini Madonna
in a gown of acorns and oak leaves
in punched gold, an altarpiece in gold
brocade most perfectly preserved
and rare
She holds the standing Christ Child
in her arms, the two of them
upheld by seraphim
white doves, cornflowers and marigolds.

The glass glitters with frost
and the air is filled with smoke
Meanwhile, not enticed by such glories
as frost on glass, fragrance of smoke
nor Madonnas
she stirs, waits for the light to go
for the thudding of her heart to stop
for the frock-coated whispered gathering
and I am afraid
seeing myself in the white-lacquered bed
grasping toward strangers


(A true story)

The Branchini Madonna, painted in 1427 by Italian artist Giovanni di Paolo. -- It's clickable!

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Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Meteor at the Pass


Three times during the night on Sunday my husband and I got up and stood outside looking up and north, watching for meteors from the Perseid shower. As far as we could tell, nothing was happening except for the crickets singing under the stars and a lot of lost sleep....

But my son Deadboy (not his real name) and some friends went up to the top of Guardsman's Pass where it was nice and dark, without any competition from city lights, and one of his friends took this lovely picture!

Thanks for the great photo, @nt!x. (Click it!)

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Thursday, August 09, 2007

PT: Thursday Again!


COMING AWAKE

I dreamed of you going away
to Switzerland with a puppet lady
a little Swiss cottage

like something off a clock
stuffed with deer antlers
and hanging puppets

like naked bodies
one or the other of us
behind bars

some kind of zoo
I might have loved you
I said

then came the screaming man
with a crushed hand
I took a brown bag of

leftover potato chips
home to my husband's
children


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Saturday, August 04, 2007

A Party! A Party!





We adopted Tinki and Lucky a year and a half ago, when they were three years old, but we never knew when their birthday really was. So we decided to decide when it would be. August 1st. And we baked a cake (honey-banana), and frosted it (Chime ate all the frosting off while we weren't looking!) and Jake found some old candles in the junk drawer (apparently the dogs are 183 years old--although that may be in dog-years). We sang the Happy Birthday song, and blew out the candles. Who could ask for a more celebratory celebration than this???

Then why are Tinki's eyes so red? And why does Lucky look so unhappy?

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Thursday, August 02, 2007

PT: Quote of the Day


"Don't shoot the bird
while the bird is flying!"

(Good advice given to my daughter-in-law by her sweet mother, who got it from her father. So, what is your take on this old Philippino proverb?)

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Where Have We Been?










We went to the top of the mountains, to Silver Lake, up above the world famous ski resort Solitude, and spent the morning where it is cool and beautiful. We walked around the lake, saw a herd of ducks and dragonflies, climbed on the rocks, and chased squirrels and birds. The river water is cold and fast, fish jump in the lake leaving concentric circles on the surface, Simon climbed up the crevices in the rocks like a long-legged spider monkey, and when the ducks saw Jake, they climbed out of the water and came to greet him. He thought they were in attack mode and hid behind a tree. All in all, it was a lovely morning, and only about 15 minutes away! These pictures are the next best thing to being there!

(All the pics are clickable for a better view. Look for the dragonflies in the clouds!)

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Wednesday, July 25, 2007

PT: I Only Ask For Now


THE ONE WHO WOULD NOT GO


Grandfather William, Grandmother Thea, James, John Allen,
Lucy Elizabeth and Margaret Ann, everyone gone
with no goodbye from me, I come to you now out of this
pale self where your blood runs, from this slippery dark
where human vanities are wasted, where love and loss
justice, tears and joy are all that matter. Lifted
out of your ghostly twilight, know me your messenger:

I am the little one who waits, the little one
who sits behind locked closets,
in dusty corners where the fence has fallen
into weeds, where the door is shut,
where locks are strong and the keys are lost.
I wait for comets to break in to the place where I am,
for stars to fall, crackling like bonfires,
for the voices that say, finally, "Come out!
Come on out!"

I have never understood courage, never understood
brave men who crowded the crossed cemeteries
in Flanders, in Arlington, in Dresden, in Belfast,
in the Me Kong Delta, the heroes who dared
at Appomattox, at Verdun, at Da Nang and Hue,
the doughboys, yanks, leathernecks, the flyboys and tars
who said, "Kilroy was here," or "Damn the torpedoes,"
or "I shall return." But I have looked down
death's throat, and felt the vomit of fear rise
in my own. It is foul...I know...
I know the real heroes are also the ones
who would not go.

We are from different planets, the brave and I.
Love me now before I die. I am afraid of the dark.
Fill me, fill me with light, fill me with delight,
give me sons, let me feel a full womb, full breasts.
I am afraid to be alone. I am afraid of the dark.

Grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, brother,
lover, husband, friend, touch me now before I go.
Listen to the music of the heart that pumps my blood,
feel the red pulse of my life under the flesh
of my throat. Keep a clock ticking on the kitchen shelf,
keep a light burning in the hall...
I am afraid of the dark... I am afraid...

I do not ask perfection. I do not expect the impossible.
I celebrate breath, I celebrate lovemaking,
the tongue against the skin, I celebrate the sun's coming
and going, the turning of seasons, summer solstice,
autumn equinox, the penetration of comets across
the cosmos, the thrust of meteors.
I do not ask perfection-- no parables of virgins,
no apples without bruise, no unblemished lambs,
no ram in the thicket. I only ask
the possible. I only ask for Now...


(From my book In Willy's House. The little girl with her arms filled with catalogs for making paper dolls is my mother. Colorado, 1918.)
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Tuesday, July 24, 2007

All Is Well



Come, Come Ye Saints


Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear; But with joy wend your way.
Though hard to you this journey may appear, Grace shall be as your day.
'Tis better far for us to strive Our useless cares from us to drive;
Do this, and joy your hearts will swell-- All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? 'Tis not so; all is right.
Why should we think to earn a great reward If we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins; fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake;
And soon we'll have this tale to tell-- All is well! All is well!

We'll find the place that God for us prepared, Far away in the West,
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid; There the Saints will be blest.
We'll make the air with music ring, Shout praises to our God and King;
Above the rest these words we'll tell-- All is well! All is well!

And should we die before our journey's through, Happy day! All is well!
We then are free from toil and sorrow, too; with the just we shall dwell!
But if our lives are spared again To see the Saints their rest obtain,
Oh, how we'll make this chorus swell-- All is well! All is well!



* So this is what they sang, words written by William Clayton. Please see my July 24, 2006 post for the rest of the story!

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Chopsticks Master


Starfish, Master of All Things Japanese! We all miss him!

Monday, July 23, 2007

My Girl!


Bookworm, my most beautiful of all granddaughters (and my only) is having a fun summer visiting in Japan. I'll be glad when she comes home!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Coaxing the Muse


So. How do you coax the Muse? This is how I do it. Rob Kistner, at Image and Verse, has invited anyone who'd like to share to explain how they view the writing process, how they coax the Muse. I wrote a wonderful piece on his blog, which was trully insightful and lucid, but which for some reason would not post. Anyhow, a picture is worth a thousand words.
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PT: WRITING IN THE DARK


It's not difficult.
Anyway, it's necessary/

Wait till morning, and you'll forget.
And who knows if morning will come.

Fumble for the light, and you'll be
stark awake, but the vision
will be fading, slipping
out of reach.

You must have paper at hand,
a felt-tip pen--ballpoints don't always flow,
pencil points tend to break. There's nothing
shameful in that much prudence: those are your tools.

Never mind about crossing your t's, dotting your i's--
but take care not to cover
one word with the next. Practice will reveal
how one hand instinctively comes to the aid of the other
to keep each line
clear of the next.

Keep writing in the dark:
a record of the night, or
words that pulled you from the depth of unknowing,
words that flew through your mind, strange birds
crying their urgency with human voices,

or opened
as flowers of a tree that blooms
only once in a lifetime:

words that may have the power
to make the sun rise again.


--Denise Levertov

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Pudding!



We saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix yesterday. The looney girl, Luna Lovegood, uttered the line I want carved in my tombstone:

"Anyway. I'm going to go have pudding."
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Thursday, July 12, 2007

Monday, July 09, 2007

How Much Is A Billion?


a. A billion seconds ago it was 1959.
b. A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.
c. A billion hours ago we were living in the Stone Age.
d. A billion days ago no one walked the earth on two feet.
e. A billion dollars ago was only eight hours and 20 minutes ago, at the rate our
government is spending it.

(I stole the above from my friend Kenny at Coffee in the Morning, who also stole it from somebody else.)

And, I just read that the boost in troop levels in Iraq has increased the cost of war there and in Afghanistan to 12 billion a month. And, the total for Iraq alone is nearing a half-TRILLION dollars. It makes my head spin, this "burn rate" of billions.

"Think of what $10 billion a month would mean to protecting Americans from terrorism, improving security at our ports and airports, and increasing border security," said House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. The US Government's "debt ceiling" is $5.95 TRILLION. (A trillion being a 1 followed by 12 zeros). How much is that, you ask?

5.95 trillion seconds is 188,544 years.
5.95 trillion hours ago the first fossils were being formed.
5.95 trillion meters is the mean radius of the Solar System.
5.95 trillion miles is 1.013 light years--the speed of light being 186,000 miles every second!

I don't know exactly what that 5.95 trillion "debt ceiling" really means, but listen to this: The US National Debt (2001) was $7 trillion + (actually, $7,937,463,000,000). If you had gone into business on the day Jesus was born, and your business lost a million dollars a day, day in and day out, 365 days a year, it would take you until October 2737 to lose a trillion dollars! So, I imagine it would likewise take that long to MAKE a TRILLION dollars....

And yet, the world's 10 biggest oil companies(here read Bush and Cheney among them) were expected to exceed one TRILLION dollars in sales in 2004. In ONE YEAR! You do the math. I can't. No wonder it costs $50 (at least) to fill up our cars.

Is your head spinning?
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Sunday, July 08, 2007

Let Freedom Ring!



Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light.


It was a good day.