what I'm thinking and doing § what I'm listening to § what I'm reading
what I'm writing § retrospective: The Phonosnout
Again, I'm sorry this is late.
I guess I should start where I left off, a midnight ride back to San Francisco after EctoFest West. The grateful sleep. Then another slow morning. Then we drove into the city, around the Haight which was cordoned off for a street fair and packed with people. So then to Berkeley where we could see Tamar's old stomping grounds, and a quick bite of lunch and some record shopping (not too much, really), then racing back to near Tamar's parents for a lovely sushi dinner at the restaurant next to Tamar's father's photography shop, then racing off to the airport and being unable to find a convenient gas stations and paying a horrible price for gas, silly us.
Then a quick flight home, another late-night drive home.
I took the next day as a vacation day and ran errands for Clarion, buzz buzz buzz O busy bee. My mantra was from the Farscape TV show we watched this week: "work now freak later, work now freak later, work now freak later."
On Wednesday after work I went to the Alexis Hotel and picked up Jacqueline Carey who was in town for a promotional tour for her new book, Kushiel's Dart. We had been on an email list for fantasy writers together and struck up an occasional correspondence (you know me), and as she had a little time in her schedule we got together for lunch up on Capitol Hill. I really enjoyed meeting her in person. She said she was a little spacey from all the travelling and I know I was a little spacey from all the busyness, but we had a pleasant time chatting anyway. That evening I also went to the University for the reading/signing she was doing with Juliette Marillier and Sara Douglass, both of whose books I've recently read. I also bought a copy of Jacqueline's book there (and have not been able to stop picking it up and reading a little more, even though I have at least a dozen library books to read right now). It was a fun reading and discussion afterwards.
The busyness continued, including a meeting of the classroom volunteers Friday afternoon after work.
And Saturday was amazing. We got up a little Saturday-early for us, and made our way to the Fremont Fair. Jim parked himself along the street, and I became a shopping monster. I'd meant to just see if one of our favourite potters was there but after I'd found him and bought four more of our favourite bowls from him, I went looking for a new ring for Jim and found one for me and two for him (an anniversary present) and found a dress I really, really liked but could only try one over the dress I was wearing so I could really tell if it fit. So enough of that. I went back and rejoined Jim in plenty of time to watch the delightful and slight crazy Fremont Solstice parade. (I've had to miss this for two years in a row because I'd been the person to wait at the dorms for the refrigerators to arrive for the Clarion students so I was especially delighted to be able to see it this year.) It's a home-made parade with no motorized floats and no corporate sponsors so it's always eclectic and odd and spontaneous and fun.
After that we raced home and grabbed stuff and went to Seattle Central to set up the classroom before the locked the building until Monday am. Unfortunately, once I got there I realized I'd forgotten an important box so Jim went back to get it as I arranged and cleaned the tables and put the silly animals in the center of the floor and got out the Versimilatoad and office supplies. Jim returned with the wrong box--I knew that I should have described it more clearly but we were in such a rush--and so I jus finished up what I could.
Then we went home and grabbed something to eat, after which we hopped in the car and drove up to Lynwood for a house concert by Veda Hille. Veda and her road manager, Loree, were already there, so we nibbled on the snacks and chatted for a while, waiting for a carload of Veda's friends to drive down from Vancouver. It was great to have a chance to just chat with Veda and to
The concert itself was delightful. We've seen Veda before in some pretty close settings and with small audiences, but this felt especially intimate. She did both her song cycles from Field Study and several other songs, and it was a captivating performance. She felt focused and it was easy to focus on her and to hear everything.
It was also fun afterwards to meet her husband (of less than a year) and some of her other friends, and to share a sip of the most wonderful scotch another ectophile had given her at last week's concert.
What a wonderful end to a hectic day.
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Veda! See above.
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Peter Dickinson's The Blue Hawk is a young adult novel, the tale of a young priest who is suddenly moved by the gods to interfere with a ritual by touching the blue hawk. As a result of his actions, the current king is killed. His fellow priests are not happy with this and so they send him to an abandoned temple to tame the hawk. As he is working with the hawk, he meets the new king who believes that the priesthood is too powerful and what they are doing is damaging the country, and shows the young priest evidence that convinces him that he is meant to change more than just that ritual, and the gods, who speak to him, agree. The story is a fascinating mix of politics, religion, and the personal costs of being mixed up in such things. Well worth tracking down, as it may not be hard to find.
John M Ford's The Last Hot Time is the story of a paramedic travelling the borderlands between the human world and faery, who rescues a woman when the car she's driving in is attacked by a band of elves and she is shot. Recognizing his ability, the people in the car offer him a job to work for their organization in the border city that Chicago has become. It's a strange world, half-magic and half-mechanical where neither things nor people act quite as expected. The humans and elves are a mix of good and bad, but there are evil ways afoot and the group of people he's working with, led by a mob-type character, are working against that. Lots of fun and pretty well-conceived, I found this a quick and enjoyable read, though I probably missed the depths considering the distractions as I was reading.
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No time, no time.
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About the Phonosnout
Robin did a lecture on Joyce's contribution to modern poetry--i.e., techniques through his writing that influenced poetry, all in one hour. Then a three-hour workshop. So I went out and splurged on books, including Finnegans Wake and a skeleton key thereto. Books and books. Seven of them. Today was the day of "Seven Robins" which all liked and didn't change, and of seven books.
January 16th 1980
The madwoman, Nancy, who buys all these books when she doesn't have time to read them. I want to read them all, and I want so many more books. I'm a bibliophile, a bookaholic. Just wait until you see how much I will love my book.
1091. Talking to Ann
I went to a movie: The Marriage of Maria Braun (quite good, very German) with Harold & Diane, then stopped by to talk with Ann. We talked about relationships and men, her recent ex in particular, and I drove home thinking about something that was very similar between us. We both want men who will demand from us and whom we can demand from, but will give up the latter to obtain the former.
January 17, 1980
1092. Another ledge
...in my climb, a place of choices (foregone) one might say, where I have found another point of no return, a milestone on the road I won't retread. This has to do with people and quality time--this world is full of people that are no worth spending time on. O, elitist me. However, I spend too much time with people who cannot have the slightest inkling of things that matter to me. People who simply cannot understand. This is not so bad in itself, but it usually affects the quality of time spent, and I simply haven't enough time to waste. In all too many ways I am racing against time trying to build a structure to hold the little knowledge I have obtained, and to build onto that structure with more knowledge. To build, to grow, to learn. Not that recreation time should disappear, it's just that it must do something. I waste enough on my own.
January 19th 1980
1093. The whys & wherefores
...of my last and latest harangue is the socialising time I have spent this last week--too much at a time, a little rich for this girl's blood. Last Sunday pre-work a girl I used to be very close friends with in junior high (That educational abomination) phoned, wanted to visit--so I popped by for tea, then shuffled off to work. Wednesday she called and wanted to go to a movie (Bette Midler, The Rose--dynamic at least) so went and visited, but there is a gulf. She works for the government and talks about morality, but has no conception of truth, or God. She is a good girl, a nice girl, and a lonely girl looking for a friend, but I am not made to fit the bill, no indeed. Thursday out with Harold and Diane, then my visit with Ann--no wasted time there. Good time. I like to talk, and I like people who don't talk during movies. Yes indeed. People I have chosen rather than those who have chosen me, I s'pose. People with large thoughts, thought their personal lives may be as tangled as everyone else's. Ann is in love with a poet, who has a wife (somewhere) and another girlfriend, and who has hurt her, and who she will continue to allow to hurt her because she feels he is worth it. I hope he is for her sake. I pray he is, for her sake. Ann has a husband (with girlfriend, now they are separated) and kinds (2) and her poems. Tangled, but real. But I am no less tangled, and no less real.
January 20, 1980
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