At Asilomar; the long strand of kelp, the dawn light on the water

A day of Ultrasound, Biopsy and Bone Density scan. I am always thinking as I have these expensive and perhaps unnecessary procedures done: I wonder how much of this I would do if I had to pay for it?? It isn't exactly news that people in their 70s and 80s are not as they once were. When almost every woman you know is on some dosage of thyroid, is it a fad?
Really necessary? Harmful?
Heaven Only Knows--I think they made a movie called that once.

Our doctor is able to make a separate Medicare Charge for his Obesity Counseling. Heaven does know we need it, and they can only charge for it once a year. Without computers we could not keep track well enough to do this, but I don't really WANT to give up my computer. Not really. Using it now.

New Year's Resolutions must work, I am now making the 38th post on the 38th day of the year. Next: obesity control???
I just finished Kindling Pat Conroy's book, My Reading Life. I enjoyed it tremendously for its humor, spirited telling-it-as-I-see-it, and wonderful defense of the importance of writing and writers. It makes me want to be a better person and to write harder.  Good night.

Early November, we take to the open road

I love these western expanses, even though I was raised in New York's Mohawk Valley. I decided to break the flow of this blog (I did this; I did that) with an image from another season. The so-far-to-see to the mountains makes me feel free and a little giddy. Of course, I'm just driving through, not living here.
Tonight the CCoE, or Camera Club of Eagle (Idaho) (I'm living here) had the first of February's two monthly meetings. It was to be a swap meet and show and tell. It was a GREAT meeting and I learned many things, most of which I do not want to try.
We had the most refined and lovely, excellent photographers, to some trying to be better (but not terribly good yet) to one who advised us to raid the emergency kit at work for supplies. We had the delightful fellow who takes time-lapse photos in a circle with a GoPro helmet camera he mounted on a kitchen timer. We had someone offer a fine camera (he has just bought the new one of) for $850. Nobody bought. It might be worth that, and probably is, but the emergency supplies thief fellow had just showed us a very nice one he got from a yard sale for $50.
We had some handy fellows showing us how to make brackets and other aids out of bits of metal we all (don't) have lying around the house using tools we (don't) have. There was a useful discussion of Gaffer's Tape, so I don't have to wonder what THAT is any more.
And, so forth; you should have come!

White Elephants

Today to my first watercolor class at the Boise Museum. I have been wanting to see these white elephants! They are made of fabric and stand life-size in the Sculpture Court. They are inflated and sort of soft. Standing by one is thrilling! The ones in front of the windows glow with transmitted light. I can't describe how much I want to spend more time with them.
There is a whole room exhibit of black, white and gray pieces by an Idaho artist called Troy Passey. It is called "Left Unsaid". If someone had described this exhibit to me it might not have sounded very interesting, but I was quite captured by it and plan to spend more time there. He's an artist who is an English major (like my husband and myself) with an MA! The work is on that kind of paper called vellum, I think. It has a very uniform sleek white surface. He works with only black and watered-down black. Sometimes there is a larger black shape on the white, sometimes just the lettering. The lettering is mostly small, and must be read with patience, because you don't see the writing at all on many of the pieces, although some are simply written like handmade signs at a rally. There are pieces of all sizes, from quite large to very small. They are framed, or like sculptures, and presented nicely on all the walls in the exhibit room. Mr. Passey has said he collects bits of text from reading, or from overhearing speech, or however.. . I found most compelling those  items that were textured with repeated text in very small, hand-inscribed lettering, that created a textile-like effect. If you looked very hard and read the title first. you could pick out bits of the text, but it wasn't really like reading, rather like something magical, like alchemy. The effect of the whole room was another aspect of the exhibit--you were immediately captured when you came through the door. Here is a short, hand-held (alas) video which shows the exhibit, but not enough of its mysterious power.
I never got to the main exhibit, but am going back every Tuesday this month for the class, so I can catch that later. The watercolor class was quite good, too. I LOVE art museums!

Learning to drive horses

I have loved this picture for a long time, but haven't put it up, I think. It's from circa 1993. Someone named Mary gave K a horse and harness and a year's worth of hay because she was moving.
My daughter was just starting a little farm on which to raise food and her two young boys.
My husband told her she had to make sure the horse knew she meant it.
I have always wished I had gotten the tip of Charley's nose and his back hooves
into the picture, but otherwise I am very pleased with this little slice of the past.

It's been a slow day, and I feel I should have done more, but it is too late now.
I DID FINISH the Thornton Wilder biography, though. Reading on Kindle, you never know where you are. If there are many pages of footnotes, you get to the end of the text suddenly. There was a little foreshadowing of death in the text, so I wasn't completely unprepared. After a strenuous week visiting friends in New York City for Thanksgiving, he came home the first week in December. Since they planned to go out to dine, he wrapped himself in his bathrobe and lay down for a nap. He never woke up
just died from a heart attack.
Yesterday I also finished David Quammen's new book Spillover. It ended shockingly fast.
Just when I was prepared for about another half of a book, it was over with a few suggestions
(wash your hands) about how since human beings can THINK, we should be able
to deal with these evolving diseases. Poof! End of book. I'm still a Quammen fan
and I really enjoyed reading the book, but it sure ended abruptly. Good night,

Will the Superbowl Game take off?? & Winterreise Project

It is difficult for some things to take off. That Bowl wasn't really super and the ads weren't spectacular either. So there you have it. The game started to take off and then stalled again. But we had a lovely get-together at The House Across the Street, with fruits, veggies, pita bread, hummus, guacamole and brownies!
**********
This afternoon I got an early Valentine when we went to hear Schubert Leider at the Egyptian Theatre in Boise. The song cycle Winterreise was sung in German, with the translation above the stage. It was called The Winterreise Project because in addition to the fine baritone and the piano accompaniment, there were three barefoot dancers and a photo/video huge backdrop to the stage. I thought the video part might be exciting, and while it did contribute to the ambiance, it was mostly very still. I had been afraid of that being the too avant-garde part, and a distraction. There was one image where the surface of a pond was moving a little and a couple of places where what looked like out-of-focus irises swayed very gently. I liked best one video part where a video of two dancers (or the same dancer doubled) played above and behind a dancer in the same white dress. the juxtaposition of the three figures was subtle and elegant. And I want to try for similar effects made by two tree images--one in which the trunks were light and the sky was dark and the one that went with the Linden tree (ein Lindenbaum, he sang) that was a very strong tree trunk and foliage image.
The baritone, Jason Detwiler, was the outstanding discovery for me. He has a ringing metallic overtone quality to his voice that I usually associate with tenors. Instead of just standing by the piano, he moved about (and even off) the stage. Since the theatre is a reasonable size, he required no amplification--he was able to fill the space with his voice without strain. I was just lovely singing! The pianist was good and the music is beautiful. This is one of my favorite cycles--after Mahler's Kindertotenleider and some of the other Schubert songs. I was again reminded of Mrs. Louise Newkirk, who studied in Germany before the war and who taught me many art songs from an old yellow book when I was in high school in the early 1950s. No one seems too interested in art songs any more. That's a definite loss, I think.
Although I should mention that the poetry by Wilhelm Muller to which Shubert made his pretty music seems quite sappy to modern ears. Here is a nice translation and the original German in a pdf with a bonus of a very beautiful image by Caspar David Friedrich.  It is all about the suffering and winter journey of someone whose girlfriend has been unfaithful. Not too much different, subject-wise, from current popular music, perhaps. But a little more sappy self-pitying in tone. And with that wallowing in misery which is characteristic of German writing of the period. Still, the whole cycle is a great work of art and I am thrilled that I got to see it in performance. Alas, I suppose because of the dreaded Superbowl, the theatre was less than half full. Good night. 

Patio season and a Perfect Dream, unrealizable . . .

In summer, I sit here to read. I should sketch here, but didn't try that yet. I have figured out that laptop use outdoors isn't really that much fun, but might try ot again anyway. I am fussing tonight about the watercolor class I signed up for this month. It starts on Tuesday. It's always difficult parking near the Boise Musejum and the ticket I got last year cost $75. Who doesn't want to stay in a Museum for more than two hours??? Who doesn't want to make art?

Here is Bei Dao in the introduction to his The Rose of Time; selected poems. page XII.
[After talking about his magazine that was banned in China in 1980 after two years in 1980.]
"In truth, I am not quite confident of my writing when I look back. It reminds me of those days of blacksmithing when I was frustrated by the iron works I had made. I realize that a poet and a blacksmith are much alike; both of them chase after a perfect dream that is unrealizable. I once, in an early poem, wrote the lines: "freedom is nothing but the distance/between the hunter and the hunted."  It is the predicament, as well, of writing poetry: when you are hunting poetry,
it turns out that you are hunted by poetry. In this sense, you are both hunter and hunted,
but poetry is the distance like freedom."

Some past time, when the sky looked like this

We can remember, and wish for it to come again. I guess I am still thinking like this.Time flies. Today we picked up the spectacular hearing aids for S, my big guy. I think he will have less trouble getting used to them than I did.  Took my Kindle with me to the appointment and ordered David Quammen's new Spillover. I'm a big Quammen fan, beginning with the articles for Outside magazine. So I am deep into it already and have abandoned Thornton and Dorothy. Later, I said to them. I'll come back to the 1950s and the 1800s soon. But now I am following scientists through what we used to call "darkest Africa" in search of the reservoir for the Ebola virus. And so good night, although I know they won't find out anything before I have to go to bed.