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reading people's stuff
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Jul. 16th, 2008 @ 02:14 pm
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What ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sartorias was writing about genuinely good writing advice (here) got met thinking about critiques and beta readers and all that.
( what's in a reader? )
So what about the rest of you? Do you expect or want different levels of response at different times? Do you like giving critiques? Do you like receiving them? Does it depend? If so, on what?I feel...:  curious |
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the opposite of PTSD, and other good things
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Jul. 13th, 2008 @ 11:10 pm
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The opposite of PTSD is when a good memory suddenly overtakes you, blossoms all around you larger than life, and you find yourself reliving some good moment. Those moments are so wonderful: you get to have your cake again. (ETA: villager9999 has the perfect name for that experience: post terrific bliss. If we add "event" at the end (post terrific bliss event), then our initialism could be PTBE)
Good things today?
Seeing a bear on my morning walk. I thought it was a giant black dog, off its leash, then realized with some consternation that it was a bear. It stared at me, I stared at it, and then it crossed the road in front of me, went from the woods on one side of the street to the woods on the other side.
Picking field bindweed and bouncing bet, which both have delicious fragrances.
(field bindweed)
(bouncing bet)
Wandering high and low through a cemetery with watermelontail and darkpaisley, picking mushrooms we later identified as black velvet boletes (edibility: good, the book says; we didn't try) (Google image below)
and trying to paint designs on our skin with walnut juice.
We discovered that unripe walnuts do not stain your skin the way ripe ones do.
Finally, I must write this, or I will forget: I learned from Folklore in the English and Scottish Ballads that there is, or used to be, a belief in Canadian folklore that lightning will never strike a birch tree. I find this belief interesting because paper birches, all white, look rather like lightning, and I'd think they'd call to it rather than repel it. But maybe lightning wouldn't strike lightning, and so avoids birches.I feel...:  sleepy I hear...: Doc Watson: Little Sadie |
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The Captain Pearl R. Nye Collection
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Jul. 12th, 2008 @ 06:42 am
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How amazing is the Library of Congress? This amazing: it permits online access to collections of recordings of folksongs, so you can listen to them and download them. This is our cultural heritage, and the Library of Congress makes it possible for us to enjoy it.
Take a minute to thank the people who established the Library of Congress, and our taxes that preserve it, and everyone who contributes to it. (Thank you!)
When I said I wanted to learn some canal songs for our trip along the Erie Canal, the extremely amazing tritoneclarinet went into research overdrive mode and discovered so much amazing stuff that I haven't been able to take it all in yet, but among the things she came up with is the Captain Pearl R. Nye Collection, recorded by John, Alan, and Elizabeth Lomax in 1938 and 1939. Here is Captain Pearl R. Nye. (I never knew "Pearl" could be a boy's name...)
(And here you can see a five-second or so little silent film of him.)
He was born in 1872 to a family of canal boaters, never married, and eventually became a captain of a canal boat himself. The canal closed in 1913, and he supported himself in other ways, among them, singing. He also collaborated on a book about life on the canal, which I shall have to look for.
(All that information comes from the Library of Congress's blurb on the collection, available here)
And the treasure trove? All the songs? Available here. There are canal songs, but other old ballads, too--I clicked on one and soon realized I was listening to a version of Little Musgrave/Matty Groves (Child 81).
We will *definitely* be singing more than "The Erie Canal" on this journey!I feel...:  amazed and delighted I hear...: Pearl R. Nye: The Clever Skipper |
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Preparations
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Jul. 11th, 2008 @ 12:49 pm
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You have made me decide that, after finishing Les Miserables, I shall read 93
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| » just two things on the list... |
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Very funny cartoon from beatonna, whom I discovered thanks to redcoast
(original location is here)
ETA: slobbit, if you see this... the katana doesn't look quite right--too straight--but the general scene is pretty good, huh?
Jun. 25th, 2008 @ 11:41 am
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| » flax facts and some strawberries |
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Flax has a pretty blue flower; I have some in my garden.
A handy website, from which I learned the following...
In colonial days, England did not want the American colonies weaving their own cloth; they were supposed to ship raw materials off to England and buy the finished goods from England. So, around the time of the war for independence, the colonists considered it patriotic to weave their own cloth.
The plant fiber the colonists spun and wove most often was flax. Flax could produce a crop even in New England, and before the cotton gin, not much cotton could be processed and spun in a season. (Cotton gin was patented in 1794, though, so after that, cotton got to be more common, I imagine.)
An aside: Milkweed has long fibers too. Reading the process for obtaining flax fibers, I think I can apply it to milkweed. I tried once a few years ago, but without knowing about all the pounding and scraping. I'm going to try again this year. Maybe I can get milkweed fibers! And spin them--If I do, I'll have to send the results to jmeadows.
The cleaned and prepared fibers of flax were pale gold colored. Flaxen-haired! And the coarse leftover fibers were called tow. Tow-headed! So two hair descriptors, from flax.
Tow was used to make sacks and dishcloths.
Flax was woven on a Saxony wheel--a spinning wheel from the 1400s, which had a treadle. It was smaller than the great wheel used to spin wool.
( digression about weaving )
( net making )
Enough digressions. Here are delicious strawberries, harvested today, plus tickseed flowers
Jun. 15th, 2008 @ 09:58 am
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| » why? it's the heat** |
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**Laurie Anderson, "From the Air":
You know, I've got a funny feeling I've seen this all before.
Why? Cause I'm a caveman.
Why? Cause I've got eyes in the back of my head.
Why? It's the heat. Standby.
This is the time. And this is the record of the time.
This is the time. And this is the record of the time.
heyes captured this shot of two people staying cool on Sunday...
Morning sun, this morning...
I just had a fresh strawberry. It was hot and juicy.
There's a breeze coming in my window.
Today my computer hasn't (yet) overheated.
These things make me very glad.
Now I'll go back to work.
Jun. 10th, 2008 @ 03:02 pm
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| » sea friends and knitting and crocheting friends |
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Did you know June 8 was World Ocean Day? I did not, but it was.
whiskeredsadie, a very cool person who has traveled the world over and hails from Nova Scotia, put together an exhibit of knitted and crocheted sea life to call attention to the plight of marine life. (Picture and story here.)
Jun. 10th, 2008 @ 09:01 am
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| » light symphony (from jmeadows) |
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You will hear music, watching the light (thank you, jmeadows)
Jun. 4th, 2008 @ 07:03 pm
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| » From djaza ~ Poems |
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By Antonio Machado and Octavio Paz
(first the poem by Antonio Machado)
Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - marvelous error! -
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Who would not wish for this? I wish for this...
(And from Octavio Paz)
I will speak to you in stone-language
(Answer with a green syllable)
I will speak to you in snow-language
(Answer with a fan of bees)
I will speak to you in water-language
(Answer with a canoe of lightning)
I will speak to you in blood-language
(Answer with a tower of birds)
These are languages I'm sure many on my friends list have already learned to speak
Thank you again, djaza
May. 27th, 2008 @ 12:06 pm
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| » One way to enter the Other World |
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This morning I may have heard a hermit thrush. A hermit thrush is what a wood thrush would sound like if you heard it in the fairy world, which I think I'll call the Other World for a bit. (Here is a recording of a hermit thrush)
Except of course, you can hear the hermit thrush in this world.
Or maybe when people hear it, it's because they've crossed over? (Or, the Other World's come rolling in, which is how it often seems to me.)
I've been thinking about the ways of getting there, and one way is those pools of light you can see when most everything else has subsided into sunset or twilight. You'll see one golden patch of light left, some spot that's still lit up. If you go there, you're in. Last week I sat to read in one of those, out in the woods while I was waiting for the healing angel. Then I looked up and it was dark. In that case, I missed my chance; by the time I looked up, the Other World had receded.
I was thinking about it again yesterday evening as I was driving toward a patch of sunlight along a high road--then into that patch of light I went, and it was so blinding I had to stop the car. This made me think: A car will probably not be welcome in the Other World.
I may note other methods of entry and other facts, as I perceive them, about the Other World, as I believe it will figure largely in the next long thing I write.
But I have a short thing on my mind, too, a something that comes from reading watermelontail and thinking about jmeadows's spinning.
May. 26th, 2008 @ 08:11 pm
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| » round three |
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I am at work on the third draft, now, of "The Oracle." Very many apologies to jmeadows, who got stuck with the first draft. You can trash that! It has changed....
How many things and people, real, almost real, and more than real, can I be in love with at once? So many, so very many. And that's "in love"--doesn't even take into account the things I just plain love. This intoxication!
May. 13th, 2008 @ 11:20 pm
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| » The Oracle |
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Thanks to sartorias, I have some wonderful ideas for how to improve this story. Now if I can just live through my hours of work, and try to *concentrate* on that work, and not on what I'm going to do to the story's most unpleasant character or how I'm going to improve the fortunes of the POV character, I'll be all set.
Thanks again, sartorias!
May. 12th, 2008 @ 01:07 pm
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| » strange light in a strange room |
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Strange light in a strange room
How do you get to that bright light? You have to turn around, and then you find it, but when you do, it no longer looks as it did when first you saw it.
Because...
The kettle's reflecting the light from the door... but it looks different in the kettle, the way sometimes light looks different in a mirror, too. If you could go through the door in the kettle, it would be to an outdoors that's different from the outdoors you get to by turning around and leaving through the real door.
Outside, though the ordinary door, the wren is back, his whole throat shaking as he sings, and today with heyes, I heard the first orioles.
( directions to Walk for Hunger photos )
May. 5th, 2008 @ 03:29 pm
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| » the inestimable watermelontail |
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is quite a storyteller. Unfortunately his entries are mainly locked, and a writer needs privacy, anyway, when writing, but perhaps he wouldn't mind if I shared this:
He's writing one now about the Red Hem Archer, whose arrows have square notches, such that "threads that bind a person to that which they love will catch in those notches and break; Red Hem shot the lover from her beloved, the businessman from his money, parent from child, drunk from drink."
Reminds me of these lines from "The Sisters of Mercy," by Leonard Cohen:
It's you who must leave everything
That you cannot control
It begins with your family
But soon it comes round to your soul
One day, I hope, watermelontail will finish his story and it will be published.
Apr. 29th, 2008 @ 05:35 pm
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| » Playlist for Y |
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1. George Collins (Cordelia’s Dad)
2. Rainin’ in Paradize (Manu Chao)
3. Dil Hi to Hai (Chitra Singh)
4. Tijaniyya (Youssou N’Dour)
5. Apsaras (Apsaras)
6. Alpha (Vangelis)
7. Viridissima (Jocelyn Montgomery)
8. Un Ange Qui Passe (Annie Villeneuve)
9. Caresse Sur L’ocean (Bruno Coulais)
10. There She Is!! (Witches)
11. Hope (Tim Eriksen)
12. Kingsfold (Bobby Fisher)
13. Alba (Mediavel Baebes)
14. Irish Mass-Credo (Gilles Mathieu)
Languages: English, Urdu/Hindi, Wolof, Latin, French, Korean ... Religions: Christianity, Islam, Buddhism
Two of these songs I found through last fm, five came from friends or family, including one from Y himself, one I remembered from childhood, one came from church, two I found on the Internet, one I heard on the radio in Canada, one came from a movie, and one came, indirectly, from an NPR story.
Tomorrow I stick the CD in the mail and send it express.
Apr. 24th, 2008 @ 08:05 pm
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| » a ballad and a painting |
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The amazing writer and painter haikujaguar has posted an evocative watercolor to illustrate the poem "Sir Rosalind Rides":
Sir Rosalind Rides
That poem is by ysabetwordsmith, and you can read it here. It's wonderful; go take a look!
Apr. 18th, 2008 @ 07:49 am
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| » Hector Brown |
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Just a doodle, blah blah blah, vague idea blah blah, not so good, blah, etc.
Apr. 15th, 2008 @ 09:23 pm
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| » seen and gathered |
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today is a day of interesting sights and findings
Seen:
a kestrel/sparrow hawk--twice! Once with heyes, who took photos
a circling group of... well, they looked like vultures. Over my house. Then they moved on, though.
a traveling whirlwind. It was carrying sand, rubbish, and dead leaves; it crossed route 21 and moved on down toward the town's only minimally haunted library.
Found, and gathered:
lots of young stinging nettles. I shall make nettle soup tonight, and if it's delicious, I'll post a recipe.
a rusty lock. Not shiny, but I took it anyway. Rusty locks are almost as handy as mysterious keys.
( link to Belchertown Wonder Walkers' Walk for Hunger page )
Apr. 15th, 2008 @ 01:21 pm
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energetic
