Wow, look at this eerie and wonderful photo of the cemetery light on Saturday, during the Voices from the Past Evergreen Cemetery Discovery Walk 2011. It's taken by Dana Colcleasure, who took plenty more, all marvelous, and I've got to assume it's OK to share it here since 1) it's of me, 2) it's been shared all over Facebook, and 3) it turned up among my own Profile pix without me doing a thing.
I left it there. I've got to say I like this Facebook change that allows you to leave yourself tagged while removing a photo from your Profile. It seems impolite to have to untag yourself just to keep pictures out of your Profile if you didn't put them there yourself. You know what I mean? They still turn up, but now you can remove them. And now, if someone wants to tag/label me on her own page, she can!
Today I saw the blond squirrel again, and a little red one searched for acorns and various buried things around my big skirt while I waited for the next performance. If he'd gone under, I might have shooed him away, but instead he put his front paws on my skirt (stiffened by the crinolines underneath) and looked up at me, as if to ask, "You got any nuts under there?"
It's not easy to answer a question like that.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Blond Squirrel
Great day in the cemetery for the Voices From the Past: Evergreen Cemetery Discovery Walk 2011. Lovely audiences, many squirrels. I had seen the resident blond squirrel earlier at a rehearsal, but he visited again today between performances.
Along with plenty of other squirrels, probably all officially American red squirrels, of various sizes and colorings. Busily burying things or chasing each other around.
This blondish red squirrel is a photo taken by D. Gordon E. Robertson, with full credits here.
Also vaguely pertinent, this poem with a squirrel (not) in it, "Golden Retriever," at IthacaLit.
Along with plenty of other squirrels, probably all officially American red squirrels, of various sizes and colorings. Busily burying things or chasing each other around.
This blondish red squirrel is a photo taken by D. Gordon E. Robertson, with full credits here.
Also vaguely pertinent, this poem with a squirrel (not) in it, "Golden Retriever," at IthacaLit.
Friday, September 30, 2011
I'll be in the graveyard for a week, doing the Evergreen Cemetery Discovery Walk, and I might be too tired to post here. Sorry, and sorry also about any troubles you are encountering posting your comments here. I don't know the reason or the fix, but maybe it will fix itself?! Please keep trying.
Meanwhile, here's me, with my gigantic hat slipping off, as Martha Rice, a Southern sympathizer during the Civil War. Photo by Carlos T. Miranda, a Facebook friend I finally got to meet in person in the courtroom of the old courthouse, now the McLean County Museum of History!
Meanwhile, here's me, with my gigantic hat slipping off, as Martha Rice, a Southern sympathizer during the Civil War. Photo by Carlos T. Miranda, a Facebook friend I finally got to meet in person in the courtroom of the old courthouse, now the McLean County Museum of History!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Happy Michaelmas
Happy Michaelmas! Please enjoy reading about Michaelmas here, in the Writer's Almanac, and here, in Wikipedia. It's the Feast of St. Michael the Archangel, a great warrior, and here he is in Belgium with his sword and shield. I am so glad Michaelmas falls on Thor's Day in the blog!
To celebrate, we should tonight eat a stubble goose and, if we are printers, have a wayzgoose party, involving eating the goose and then covering our windows with paper pulp against the hard winter to come, especially if we don't have glass.
I forgot to pick up a stubble goose at the grocery store yesterday, so I think it's potatoes for us.
A stubble goose is not a goose that needs a shave but instead a goose prepared after the harvest. So that's why they keep flying away in great haste!
Michaelmas is one of those holidays that moves around a bit on the calendar, and Old Michaelmas Day fell around October 8 (so maybe we can celebrate again), and was the end of blackberries for the season. Putting all your blackberries into pies and cobblers is still the right thing to do for Michaelmas, whenever it falls, because you want to use them up by the day Michael the Archangel sent Lucifer down from Heaven where he fell into a blackberry bush and cursed it.
Photo credits for St. Michael in Belgium here. Lucifer falling by Gustave Dore in the public domain and Paradise Lost. Ah, time to re-read Paradise Lost, by John Milton.
To celebrate, we should tonight eat a stubble goose and, if we are printers, have a wayzgoose party, involving eating the goose and then covering our windows with paper pulp against the hard winter to come, especially if we don't have glass.
I forgot to pick up a stubble goose at the grocery store yesterday, so I think it's potatoes for us.
A stubble goose is not a goose that needs a shave but instead a goose prepared after the harvest. So that's why they keep flying away in great haste!
Michaelmas is one of those holidays that moves around a bit on the calendar, and Old Michaelmas Day fell around October 8 (so maybe we can celebrate again), and was the end of blackberries for the season. Putting all your blackberries into pies and cobblers is still the right thing to do for Michaelmas, whenever it falls, because you want to use them up by the day Michael the Archangel sent Lucifer down from Heaven where he fell into a blackberry bush and cursed it.
Photo credits for St. Michael in Belgium here. Lucifer falling by Gustave Dore in the public domain and Paradise Lost. Ah, time to re-read Paradise Lost, by John Milton.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Show Up, Look Good
Show Up, Look Good is a soon-to-be-released novel by Mark Wisniewski. I read an advance copy of it that clearly states on the peach-colored cover, “Please do not quote for publication without checking against the final book,” so this is a personal response and not any kind of formal review.
Mark has said it’s OK to quote from it, as long as I don’t misrepresent the book, and his publicist has sent me cover art—looks good, doesn’t it?—and permission to use it. (Also, I found a typo for him! Maybe he had time to fix it before the book’s official release.)
You can find out more about the book here and here, and the scheduled release date is October 5, but I will be in the cemetery then, so I am writing about it on this Hump of the Week. Why? Well, because this book starts with a bang, or, rather, a solitary act performed with a marital aid.
I also promised Mark “no spoilers,” and I don’t think that spoils anything or reveals too much. I don’t think it misrepresents anything, either, as the book starts out and continues with this kind of casual and blunt humor, and contains “sexual situations” and a bout of hilarious snarkiness on the “MFA-at-NYU.” There’s also an early hint of some poignancy to come.
Literally, the book begins:
I know of a secret murder, and I’ve loved a speechless man, and sometimes I’d like to tell someone how death and love have changed my life, but any of three thoughts give me pause.
And then he, the author, speaking as she, the narrator (Michelle), lists the three obstacles to telling us all about it…and then proceeds to do so. And here’s where I point you to the interview that explains how the author/narrator are related, done with such charming transparency that I can forgive some things that usually annoy me:
1) thinly disguised autobiography
2) a man pretending to be a woman (to sell more books)*
3) blatant substitution of a visual art for literary art as the occupation of the narrator**
*But, hey, what a fine ironic reversal of the way it used to be, except that it did not actually solve Mark’s marketing problem (again, see interview), perhaps rightly so!
**But, hey, my husband, a visual artist, pursued me precisely because he had heard in college that poetry and painting were sister arts, so what’s my kecking problem?
***(yes, yes, I know there are no corresponding asterisks for this) Thirdly, I think Mark probably wanted me to read this because his narrator is a woman from Kankakee, Illinois who heads off to New York City and gets caught up in show biz for a time (before dabbling with visual art), and I am a woman from small-town Illinois who was caught up in show biz for a time in the big city of Chicago (before dabbling with a visual artist). So, of course, I am an expert.
And I say this is a book I would love to see as a movie because I think there is a core story, with the gentle wisdom of those opening lines (Mark is also a poet), that could be told efficiently, effectively, and well by a very good filmmaker. There are things Michelle must leave unsaid, so she says a lot of other things instead. Her ex-fiancĂ© says she “thinks too much” and, in dialogue, she doesn’t talk too much, so the meandering narration may substitute for a thinking-too-much aspect of her personality, even while it obscures and delays rather than reveals the core narrative. A film could show the whimsy, edginess, and absurdity of Michelle’s life with camera angle and selection of detail, and perhaps even a bit of voiceover, while also pursuing the plot of the core story. She’s the star of her own story, as we all are, I suppose, but a bit player on the edge of this other, deeper, more complicated story, one she’s not able to tell.
****(4 unaffiliated stars, so, if you want, you can call this a “4-star review”) I’m annoyed with myself for wanting a visual narrative this time beyond the verbal narrative that is offered, and I see all the irony of this, but, on the other hand, he’ll probably make lots of money off the film rights, right?
To reiterate & continue (& think too much/talk too much):
1) I wish Mark well on the release of his book and hope to see it as a movie!
2) I hope he sees how I am the perfect whimsical, meandering reader/responder!
3) I hope he doesn't think I am some literary bully and cover me with this week's dirt (sigh...), and I pretty much think he understands because we both love Mather Schneider.
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