blooming february
sunny, 75, no wind, no clouds, beautiful sunsets, smells good, looks good, and trees are starting to get small buds on them. we have turned off the heater after only 2 months of intermittent use. other complaints aside, this climate is very nice. I keep telling myself to brace for the "warmth" (read: hellfire), but I think that'll be fine too. now if we can just avoid getting bit by a rattler or god ferbit a god damn black widder hoo!
I got a jazz guitar primer--a thin manual thick on esoteric jazzma. I am but an initiate, but the ways of the sus4 (and 2!), the dom7flat5th, and the aug7--these are within my reach. I can strum Desafinado, Satin Doll, and a pretty cool little bossa nova ditty. my goal is to be proficient in the bossa nova. It is a music I have enjoyed from time to time. Reminds me of my lost childhood in Bahia.
In the same trip to Barnes and Nobluh, fuel'd by ample gift certifs, I did pick up the new norman mailer novel, _The Castle and the Forest_. This was finished quickly, and I would recommend it highly to anyone who is interested in Hitler and does not shy away from disturbing bodily function descriptions--perhaps nurses or perverts. Norman Mailer seems preternaturally predisposed to speculations on the young Adolf Hitler's oral, anal, and genital fixations. However, beyond its sometimes comic visceral allegations, the novel is a brilliant work of art that plays on many levels including narrator's voice, history vs. narrative, supernaturalia, and authorship.
Also finished that Nabokov--whew! That's my 2nd Nabokov, after Lolita, and I would maybe think now I should've put down a couple others before that one... but it was pretty fun. It wasn't much of a story, but it was like just getting to sit down with a crazy genius and hearing him rap for 48 hours straight. If you like the genius flow, you'll finish it; if not, you'll not make it past part 1, and you won't be missing out.
"Also, today, something happened which I hope to understand in two or three days..." I participated in my first fully fledged (no partial fledgings here) sale of my own ceramics. It was a complete dud. Please, allow me to explain. The event was called "for the love of Art!" and it took place in the Mesilla plaza. I was hitching on to the Alma d'Arte-chartered booth, to which admission was waved. Woe be the artists that had to pay their way in! Expecting a plaza ringed with art booths, I was instead greeted by 5--five!--booths spread like beggars around the perimeter. apparently there was no advertising and no promoting to get actual artists here... so no sellers and no buyers. I guess it was, then, only partially fledged. On the plus side, I did end up selling two pieces--a mug for $12 and a large bowl for $40 = $52 which I mostly and promptly spent on beer and onion rings. Those were the only two pieces sold at our proud booth during this shameful day. So my art career--or artreer--has yet to blast forth from yon launch pad. But I did taste a smidgering of wits-based success. It tasted like fried onions.
what else what else what else
oh yeah I'm a teacher! or "AmeriCorps Artist." That's mostly going fine. I think I'm getting a little too chummy with the kids. The other night, as I removed my arm from around the waist of one of the girl students, to retrieve the bottle of wine that was being passed to me by one of the boy students, another student said, "dude, your [sic] our teacher!" and they all cracked up in my face. "Surely you jest!" Of course, nothing of the sort transpired here or there at this time or anytime. But work levels are low and laugh levels are high, which probably means that I've got to put the pedal down a little bit and start "disciplining" the younglings. Quarter-term grades are upon us and hopefully those will provide the needed kick--more on all this later.
Kitty says hi.
Molly says hi.
Kitty says molly. Molly kitty hi. says hi Kit. mol sakitty aysolly. moiayes ittys ll hiom. hoim llitty aysy.
Amy Simpson's husband is some kind of naturalist. we had drinks and laundry over there the other night and glen--as he's called--regaled us with tales of owl spottings that he's partak'd in recently 'round town. Glen and owls are each, in their own different ways, very interesting creatures. Glen goes for walks late at night when Amy puts their young daughter, and then herself, to bed. Due to some unexplained naturalist training, he's able to track owls by things such as nests and pellets. Pellets are owl vomit nuggets that contain mice skulls and other exotic items. Find pellets and you're close to owls. Tonite I got a call from Amy inviting me to a confirmed Burrowing Owls' burrow, near the edge of NMSU campus. Sure enough Glen struck gold again and I found myself not 8 feet away from two burrowing owls in a burrow, the male with a "CF" tag on his left leg. Fun little 20 minute field trip.
Well that's most likely it for now. We're looking forward to simultaneous trips from Ben and Alex--the former from New York, NY and the latter from mpls--in mid-late march. We are also hoping that tax return money and fortuitous timing can propel us to san diego to view young franklin (and perhaps the wily Bar-Lev). I'm also assembling some choice jpegs for submission to a juried ceramics show at the cruces art museum.
ta!
I got a jazz guitar primer--a thin manual thick on esoteric jazzma. I am but an initiate, but the ways of the sus4 (and 2!), the dom7flat5th, and the aug7--these are within my reach. I can strum Desafinado, Satin Doll, and a pretty cool little bossa nova ditty. my goal is to be proficient in the bossa nova. It is a music I have enjoyed from time to time. Reminds me of my lost childhood in Bahia.
In the same trip to Barnes and Nobluh, fuel'd by ample gift certifs, I did pick up the new norman mailer novel, _The Castle and the Forest_. This was finished quickly, and I would recommend it highly to anyone who is interested in Hitler and does not shy away from disturbing bodily function descriptions--perhaps nurses or perverts. Norman Mailer seems preternaturally predisposed to speculations on the young Adolf Hitler's oral, anal, and genital fixations. However, beyond its sometimes comic visceral allegations, the novel is a brilliant work of art that plays on many levels including narrator's voice, history vs. narrative, supernaturalia, and authorship.
Also finished that Nabokov--whew! That's my 2nd Nabokov, after Lolita, and I would maybe think now I should've put down a couple others before that one... but it was pretty fun. It wasn't much of a story, but it was like just getting to sit down with a crazy genius and hearing him rap for 48 hours straight. If you like the genius flow, you'll finish it; if not, you'll not make it past part 1, and you won't be missing out.
"Also, today, something happened which I hope to understand in two or three days..." I participated in my first fully fledged (no partial fledgings here) sale of my own ceramics. It was a complete dud. Please, allow me to explain. The event was called "for the love of Art!" and it took place in the Mesilla plaza. I was hitching on to the Alma d'Arte-chartered booth, to which admission was waved. Woe be the artists that had to pay their way in! Expecting a plaza ringed with art booths, I was instead greeted by 5--five!--booths spread like beggars around the perimeter. apparently there was no advertising and no promoting to get actual artists here... so no sellers and no buyers. I guess it was, then, only partially fledged. On the plus side, I did end up selling two pieces--a mug for $12 and a large bowl for $40 = $52 which I mostly and promptly spent on beer and onion rings. Those were the only two pieces sold at our proud booth during this shameful day. So my art career--or artreer--has yet to blast forth from yon launch pad. But I did taste a smidgering of wits-based success. It tasted like fried onions.
what else what else what else
oh yeah I'm a teacher! or "AmeriCorps Artist." That's mostly going fine. I think I'm getting a little too chummy with the kids. The other night, as I removed my arm from around the waist of one of the girl students, to retrieve the bottle of wine that was being passed to me by one of the boy students, another student said, "dude, your [sic] our teacher!" and they all cracked up in my face. "Surely you jest!" Of course, nothing of the sort transpired here or there at this time or anytime. But work levels are low and laugh levels are high, which probably means that I've got to put the pedal down a little bit and start "disciplining" the younglings. Quarter-term grades are upon us and hopefully those will provide the needed kick--more on all this later.
Kitty says hi.
Molly says hi.
Kitty says molly. Molly kitty hi. says hi Kit. mol sakitty aysolly. moiayes ittys ll hiom. hoim llitty aysy.
Amy Simpson's husband is some kind of naturalist. we had drinks and laundry over there the other night and glen--as he's called--regaled us with tales of owl spottings that he's partak'd in recently 'round town. Glen and owls are each, in their own different ways, very interesting creatures. Glen goes for walks late at night when Amy puts their young daughter, and then herself, to bed. Due to some unexplained naturalist training, he's able to track owls by things such as nests and pellets. Pellets are owl vomit nuggets that contain mice skulls and other exotic items. Find pellets and you're close to owls. Tonite I got a call from Amy inviting me to a confirmed Burrowing Owls' burrow, near the edge of NMSU campus. Sure enough Glen struck gold again and I found myself not 8 feet away from two burrowing owls in a burrow, the male with a "CF" tag on his left leg. Fun little 20 minute field trip.
Well that's most likely it for now. We're looking forward to simultaneous trips from Ben and Alex--the former from New York, NY and the latter from mpls--in mid-late march. We are also hoping that tax return money and fortuitous timing can propel us to san diego to view young franklin (and perhaps the wily Bar-Lev). I'm also assembling some choice jpegs for submission to a juried ceramics show at the cruces art museum.
ta!
posted by j0eb0t-xj9 at 7:08 PM
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