Red Queen Day: March 2006

Friday, March 31, 2006

Another retronym:
Recorded books, once reffered to as books on tape, now need to be defined as books on tape or books on CD. (There are still other formats for recorded books for the blind, Mary Ethel Dalton managed to "read" most of them from the New Hampshire State Library. She was a neat lady, and I was glad to have met her).

The Art for the Day is: The art of association

Thursday, March 30, 2006

First Gold Star

goes to Karen Walz for pointing out "the cereal that shot from guns" is the 1812 Overture, not "L'Arlesienne" and for this helpful wikpedia entry. So which commercial quotes "L'Arlesienne"? ("Beef, it's what's for dinner" quotes Copeland's Rodeo.)

Anachronistic Iconography aka Looking Glass Logic

OK, folks, I need your input on this one.
Last week I finally got around to watching Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai. I know, you all thought I had seen it years ago, and although I knew of it, I hadn't, or didn't remember seeing it. Except that I spotted the "John Belushi Samurai" and the Yoda Grandfather immediately as the sources that they were. Which led me to think about what would you call that?
Other examples are the kids who grew up thinking that anything by Tchaikovsky is the theme music from the Smurfs, the William Tell Overture is the intro to The Lone Ranger, "This is the cereal that's shot from guns" is a commercial, and not Bizet's Arlesienne.
Isn't there an Elvis song ripped off from a Schumann song. Or two?( "Love Me Tender, love me true" is Stephen Foster's Ora Lea) (and what's the origin of "How Gentle is the Rain, that falls softly on the meadow" and do you remember who sang it?)
Now if you know the original that's being quoted/sampled/reused, that's one thing, but if you learn it in reverse, recognize it after the fact, what do you call that?
When you have to add a qualifier to something old, because something new has replaced it (ie: vinyl record, rotary phone, analog watch) that's a retronym.
Anachronistic Icon is close to what I'm trying to describe; something that is out of place, because it was used as a symbol, before you became aware of its original use.
What I'm asking from you is a) more examples, b) a better term for it.
Gold Stars will be given. Go!

The Art for the Day is: Collaboration

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

The Art of the Day is: The art of the unsaid

Monday, March 27, 2006

Can’t Smell the Roses (or anything else for that matter)

Head colds. Germs. Bugs. The Flu. Congestion. Aches. Sniffles. Headaches. IRRITABILITY. The world through 2 sheets of cellophane. Coughs. Sinus pressure. Inability to regulate my body temperature. Chills and sweats. Ears Popping. Roll me up in a big feather quilt and leave me alone.

The Art of the Day for Tuesday is: Survival

The Art of the Day is: The art of finding the still point

The nice happenstance of the day is the Londonderry NH Library gives you a one day grace period for returning overdue books.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the art of enjoying company.

Why is this an art? Because sometimes you get too caught up in presenting yourself, your space, to relax enough to just be there. Hosting is different from enjoying company (though not necessarily mutually exclusive). This is just a way to remind myself that we are more sensitively aware of our own blemishes, and other's might not even take note of them.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the art of brewing coffee

I did not learn about brewing coffee in my family. My mom was a dedicated instant coffee drinker, who usually left half a cup on the table when she left for work.
I first learned about brewing coffee in Denmark. First on a Melita filter system, and then on a Chemex. Brewing coffee on a Chemex is an "at the coffee table" ritual. It may even be the Scandinavian equivalent of a tea ceremony, or it may be only a house ritual of the architect I was visiting.

My next formative coffee experience was in Central City, Colorado, where water boils before it's hot, because of the altitude. Fortunately my housemate ?Debbie? from Davenport, Iowa, had been there the year before and knew to bring an espresso machine (essentially a coffee pressure cooker), so with fabulous beans from a small roaster in Denver, what might have been a disaster became a wonderful summer for coffee on the back porch overlooking the front ridge of the Rocky Mountains.

I now either brew espresso (lattes, actually) at home with coffee from King David's Coffee Roasters, or drive through a Dunkin Donuts, sort of as an homage to becoming a New Englander (I was already a Yankee, but that's not the same), not because it's great coffee, it sometimes is and sometimes isn't, but because I've gotten used to it, and I really like their ice coffee.

I have had periods in my life when I've been decaffeinated. I found the best way to do that is to buy really good decaffeinated coffee and mix it half and half with good caffeinated coffee for the first couple of days. It's the smell and the taste, not the kick, that I'm interested in.
I am not a fan of flavored coffees. I once broke out in hives from a nut blend, and I guess that killed the fun. However, if you put a shot of Kalua, Sabra, or Amaretto in my desert coffee, I might just hug you.

Friday, March 24, 2006

A Nightmare

I am going to my husband’s mother’s unveiling (which actually will happen 10 days from now). I end up arriving with my brother and niece, and the entrance is through an unmarked door off a major shopping street, then down a stone pathway, into a large building on an estate (I’ve been here before, but this time the “museum exhibits” are all chapels of a sort, a cross between Baroque and Greek Revival). We find the right chapel, which is sort of like a stadium, but we leave to go find the rest of my brother’s family who are lost. I think we find them and do some shopping (in a mall/store I’ve been to before) and return to the unmarked door (you have to ring a bell to be admitted) and then down the stone path, which is leading in a different direction, to where the unveiling has already taken place, and all my husband’s relatives are sitting on top of bookshelves, on one of the top tiers of the seating, looking down at us like cats. One Aunt is wearing big sixty’s style sunglasses so you can’t see her eyes. They are not happy with us. Not only is my brother and his family there, but also one or two friends of mine, and I know my sister in law is pissed, because we didn’t RSVP for lunch, and I’ve thrown her count way off. But because we are late, I never got instructions to the place, and I didn’t think my family was going anyway. At any rate, they were there to support me, and not for the food.
Both the aunts from my mother-in-law’s and father-in-law’s side are there. They don’t generally get along, but they are united in the fact that they are mad at me. My sister-in-laws are mad at me, and I never get a chance to see my brother-in-law, who has flown in cross-continent to be there. By the time all this sinks in, and I’m figuring out ways to approach them, they all have left. And I’m in the wrong chapel, and this tall male docent with a very deep funereal voice is showing me different chapels, and none of them are quite the right one. Some of them are outdoors, but my sister-in-law did not get a full pass and so we cannot go exploring the lake, or the late condition cross country ski trails, or the factory next door (I’ve been here before). We finally get back to the “right chapel” and I can see that my relatives were not perched on top of bookshelves. That was just an optical illusion. The bookshelves were behind the seating.
We end up in a chapel with a service going on, and end up singing dueling hymns at the end of the service (not an unveiling, just a regular service, and yes, I’ve been here before too). I end up leading on of the versions of one of the hymns from my seat, and get the people to follow me, even though I mess it up at the end, but save the ending. Someone who I just met in the congregation points this out to me, she knows that I know that she knows, but it’s OK.
Somehow my family and friends end up going to lunch, and I offer to pay, having missed the directions to the formal luncheon. Somehow we end up in the same place as my in-laws. My brother-in-law has already left, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. My sister-in-laws and the aunts each have a color aura around them, like a gelled spotlight, which matches and intensifies the color of their clothes. There is also one cousin, who I don’t know, but know that she is a cousin because she has a pink color aura around her. My one sister-in-law (blue aura) is sitting at the bar, and when I approach her, she is too upset to talk about it, but gives me the impression that she will be able to talk about it at another time. The aunts and other sister-in-law are unapproachable. I just want to explain why I was late, and sincerely apologize, but no one wants to listen. I think this is where I wake up, and say to myself, hey, that qualifies as a nightmare.
Curiouser and curiouser.

The Art of the Day is: the Art of wrangling nightmares

Thursday, March 23, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the art of recording and defining.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

State of the Art

So, I’m doing well, except when I’m not.
Work is going very well. I’m communicating with the people I need to communicate with. I am convincing, without hard selling, that the product is worth while. I’m connecting.
I’m missing the marriage, the partnership, the easy physicality, the daily humor, the being wanted, anticipating someone else’s needs (from shopping for ties, to guessing what’s bugging him.)
It doesn’t transfer well at all.
Last year, this time, I was emotionally unavailable. I could flirt like a married woman.
I was no threat, because I didn’t want anything of anybody.
Now I’m needy, and that is not a comfortable place for me to be.
I have agendas, I read into things. I’m looking for cause and effect.
I’m outer focused, only not in a good way. I am the spider; despite myself I want to draw you in.
My energy is electric, dangerous, both heightened and static, tense.
I have reprieves, but I don’t have control.
I’m playing old sad songs, early Dylan(as played by Jerry Garcia), Leonard Cohen, Richard Farina, Phil Ochs, dead men all (except Dylan, who is at least preserved).
If I were radioactive, I’d need time to degrade down to where I was safe enough to handle. When do I get over being sad? How shall I channel my energy until then?

The Art of the Day Must be: Patience, what's the alternative?

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the Art of Cloud Interpretation

Monday, March 20, 2006

Today is Monday. I am psyching myself into having a productive day. I will set out to do five things. One of which will be something I am not looking forward to doing, one which will make another one possible, one for someone else's benefit, and one just because I can.

The Art of the Day is: Maintaining forward motion

Sunday, March 19, 2006

The Art of the Day is: The Art of Cooking

As in: some days you just putter around the kitchen, and some days you really cook.
Or: I used to think I liked to cook because I liked to eat, now cooking has become a relaxing activity all on it's own.
I cannot predict if I will cook or relax, but either one would be acceptable today.
Happy Birthday Alan and Enid.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

The Art of the Day is: The Art of Exploration

Thursday, March 16, 2006

The Art of the Day is: The Art of Deconstructing Procrastination

The project at hand has become like a tangled knot of yarn. Tugging at it will only make the knots tighter, not to mention the corresponding knot in my stomach. So in order to move ahead I need to untangle things. Smoothing out the parts that are OK, and identifying the worst knots comes first. This takes more space, in the physical, mental and metaphysical realms (like cleaning closets, you need to move everything out, make a mess, make a clean space to return things to, and then organize and triage, save and discard).
It occurs to me while I’m doing this, I need to learn/relearn skills to solve certain parts of the problem, and that is what is overwhelming me. Again pulling the projects apart, making phases of the tasks at hand, seems to help. Just assigning finish-by-dates to each phase hasn’t worked very well, they guiltily go by. Focus in on the one task. Soap the knot so it slips through more easily, get a second pair of hands. Try to learn the difference between patience and procrastination. Now get back to it.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

The Art of the Day is: debugging

In literature as in life: Figuring out the problem so you can figure out the fix.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

A bit of a funk
I seem to be in a bit of a funk, even though I did the three things I set out to do yesterday.
It may be the rain, but it's stopped raining now. (sorry to blog about the weather, it's just I'm so reactive to it, I do believe in tidal effects.) I'm at work. Things are going relatively quickly (which is good), and I'm on the wireless network here (also good). I bought my brother a reasonable birthday present, I guess I'll wait till I see him to give it to him. I bought my sister a very good birthday present last week, and I should send it. I'm not going to say what it/they are till after their birthday, just in case they are reading this.

The Art of the Day is: The art of good gifting

Monday, March 13, 2006

And she, herself has gone.

The art world has suffered another star burning out. Sweet and talented and fighting the good fight, K.C. is now at peace. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. She was too young.
She brought people together. She could joke with the best of them. She took her family seriously, but not too seriously. She loved her husband and her son. She loved doing what she did. I will miss her, and wish her glorious productions with unlimited budgets in the hereafter.

The Art for the Day is: the Legacy of K.C. Kosminsky.

The Art of the Day is: Moving right along

Which as you know is not that easy when it takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place. It is Monday. It is raining. I am scattered but good. I will try to get three things done today. One in my house, two on the program I'm relearning, and three out in the world.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Vicarious living

I’ve been reading peoples’ blogs and posts from SXSW, and it seems REALLY sunny in Austin this weekend. I am delighted that friends are having fun. I am also recognizing buzz words that were going over my head just a while ago, and that has something to do with this blog, and caring about stuff I had no interest in before. That’s good.
My timing seems disorganized, my house messy, and I need to change shampoos, but the cat seems to be doing better (I’ve started giving him his medicine separately, and he is eating better), and I’m getting good feedback and the days are getting warmer and longer, so I’m not complaining, or dwelling on the dark stuff. Hit and move on. Touch and let go.
Touch is a whole ‘nother subject. Not vicarious at all.

The Art of the Day is: the Art of forward motion

Friday, March 10, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the Art of Kindness

Thursday, March 09, 2006

The Art of the Day is: The art of persuasion

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

A Red Queen Rant

Everything's either concave or -vex
So whatever you dream will be something with sex.
-Dream Interpretation, Simplified by Piet Hein

I’m having the kind of day where everything is a double entendre, and it’s only 10:00 AM. And I don’t have anyone I can really discuss it with.
Except you dears, TAG, you’re it.
Who would have thought that well into middle age the randy side of the Red Queen would come out. I used to be demure, even shy, and even conservative. I thought that Gary Hart shouldn’t run for president when he was caught on that yacht, but now I’m not as sure. There are worse ways to get screwed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating free love, or unprotected sex, or anything really kinky, it’s just when it comes to this, less is not more.
Words are seductive.
Touch is seductive.
And the brain really is the most exciteable sex organ.

The Art of the Day is: the art of innuendo.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Greetings from Maine

The Art of the Day is: TCB (Taking Care of Business)

Monday, March 06, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the art of refueling.

Tough week, and so much of my own doing (not all, recognize progress there). It's time to get back to the well, the source, the guides to same. To relax the knots in my neck and shoulders. To seek out and enjoy supportive people. This is just the outline, but I feel pointed in the right direction.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

The Art for the Day is: The art of Remembrance

Tomorrow, that is starting tonight, is the anniversary of my mother's death. Yartzeit in Hebrew. I guess this is as good a time as any to talk about how after 5766 years of laws and customs, there is something very right about Jewish rituals around death and mourning.
The custom begins with a ritual bathing, and vigil done by members of the community, and not the immediate family. You get to reciprocate by doing it for someone else after someone has done it for you. Then there is a quick burial, sensible in a hot climate like the Middle East, followed by a seven day period of intense mourning (Shiva) where as immediate family you are not expected to do anything normal, like working, cooking, paying attention to your appearance.
People are supposed to come to you and support you. During the next month, you may do whatever is necessary, but you don't have to. You can refrain from joy. This is true for the next year. You don't have to accept invitations. Now this is my own middle of the road interpretation, some people would say you can't do this or that, some people would say you can do things sooner. Still, there are rules and customs to follow. A game plan, a map, for when the world as you know it shifts under your feet.

Specifically about my mom: All in all, I think she had a happy life. I know there were times when I tried her patience, and she tried mine, but by the end of her life we were getting along pretty well. We had fewer things to disagree about, so we argued less. I was able to spend a lot of time with her, the last six months of her life, and that was good. I was able to be there for her the way she had been there for her mother, and she deserved that. Hers is one of the stronger voices I carry around in my head. That's fine too.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

The Art for the Day is: the Art of moving on

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Pin Ball Logic

Pin Ball Logic is the way I’ve been describing series of random associations that end up meaning something new or throwing a fresh light on something.
Some people are really good at creating analogies.
Not ‘a’ leads to ‘b’ leads to ‘c’, but ‘a’ leads to ‘copper’ leads to ‘4’…Ding, ding, ding, ding, where ‘4’ is something useful.

Pin Ball Logic is not the same as Symbolic Logic, where something makes sense because it is a symbol, or marker for something else. Like the way that $18 is given for a gift, because 18 symbolizes life in the Hebrew way of representing numbers or Red for luck in Chinese culture. (anyone know why?)

I suspect that this is how people get interested in semiotics. The friend who can put together far flung analogies can also speak intelligently about semiotics. I use it, do it, but don’t have the language to explain it. So there is probably some erudite terms for describing pinball and symbolic logic, I just don’t know them….yet.

se·mi·ot·ics [ smee óttiks, sèmmee óttiks ]
noun

Definitions:

1. study of signs: the study of signs and symbols of all kinds, what they mean, and how they relate to the things or ideas they refer to

The Art for Today is: Semiotics

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

The Art of the Day is: the art of hunting lost thoughts

Some days "It takes all the running you can do to stay in the same place". This blog is to chronicle the running, and point out the interesting things, people, places, I meet on the way.

: Name: the other Joan; Location: New Hampshire, United States

I've lived in all 4 New states, NY, NJ, NM, NH. I grew up as far away as you can from Manhattan and still take the subway.(I used to put subway tokens in my penny loafers so I could click my heels three times and go home). I've sung solo in the Parma Opera House. My brother and sister are twins. I believe that people want to be used, but they want to be used well.

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Keep your eyes on your
own plate
Be yourself,
it's who you do best
Every problem has
a family

Red Queen Day