Sunday, December 19, 2004
kinda cold... but yesterday before the
front came through i managed to cut the tall grass from the garden
and stick a few of the puffy-topped things in a pot in the rec
room... but they need a big red ribbon... no christmas tree this
year... don't think we had one last year either... don't miss
it... much... two ap exams in the morning... lots of grade stuff
yet to come... and other stuff
sun's short review of Hannah Coulter
Berry's compelling and immensely readable regional writing often
gets short shrift because his characters are the just-plain folks
of America's rural heartland. This latest installment of his series
about the citizens of Port William, Ky., details the reflections
of the eponymous narrator. Now an old woman, Hannah reviews her
life - she was just a girl when she married Nathan, a survivor
of Okinawa, and bore his children. As she contemplates the story
of her life she muses, 'Like everybody's, it was going to be the
story of living in the absence of the dead.' Berry's poetic prose
is by turns as graceful and brutal as his poetry, his revelations
about the impact of war on young men and their families heart-rending
in this distinctly Faulknerian moral tale.
thinking about agnes martin reminds me
how much i've always liked Sean
... call it minimal if you want... but it's got so much...
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Martin - R. I. P.
...Agnes Martin, who
died at Taos, New Mexico, on Thursday aged 92, was an artist whose
variations on horizontal and vertical lines were regarded by many
critics as having anticipated such movements as hard edge painting,
op art, conceptualism and, most strikingly, minimalism; she was
often spoken of as the last survivor of the abstract expressionist
painters who came to prominence in New York in the 1950s.
A Good Poem
A good poem is like finding a hole
by Daniel Ladinsky)
via The Wondering
Friday, December 17, 2004
New York Times | 'Ralph Eugene Meatyard': Behind the Masks, Portraits
of Southern Gothic
...Of all the photographers
of the ordinary, Ralph Eugene Meatyard is perhaps the most oddball,
giving reality a flip that often puts it into the realm of sur-reality.
His creepy, staged shots of family and friends in strange masks
but homey settings, or unmasked in derelict places that turn spooky,
are weirdly unsettling while at the same time involved with the
familiar interactions of everyday life.
... their links portal
Thursday, December 16, 2004
seems like that humble link right below
here inspired a colorful burst of rememories over at chris
murray's tex files
morning junk mail: 242
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
a funny fine development at zotz
the zoo... seems bap2004 has momentarily disappeared... to be
replaced by brief conversation about a frosty old chesnut...
now i'm waiting for the faculty's secret
santa party... this is my first time... it has been a very pleasant
experience... i've had various gifts of candy and toys delivered
by (sometimes) singing, bell-clad students... a cool push-down
matchbox "hero-hauler" that rolls the length of my long
classroom... a tin of hard candies my grandmother used to love...
a santa coke mug filled with candy in red wrappers (as yet unopened)...
a bottle of mexican pop - jarritos - surrounded by funny colorful
mexican (?) candy canes... a christmas tree box of peanut butter
cups with a charlie brown ornament... a cane full of sweet tarts...
a map of africa with a message: to solve this riddle, you'll
find me in the middle... what looks like a real nice bottle
of merlot... this is all so cool... what a haul... i'm afraid
i wasn't so inventive for my own... uh... recipient... er... victim...
yesterday i came out of the fog to realize
that... given a week... many ap students had not read (completed?
started?) heart of darkness... i pouted... but need to
consider methods of... encouragement... most teachers take time
to quiz... one wishes he/she could take my approach of just leaving
it all up to their own maturity and sense of duty, as college
professors do... still, i'm guessing that even college profs
quiz from time to time... even college profs get this gut-churning
sense... from time to time... that the class is... not on the
ap is supposed
to be a college-level course... out-of-the-fog reality shows me
high school students pulled in many different directions in a
very limited range of time... some just found the book "boring"...
and stopped reading... i don't know what to do with that one...
the spirit of the age clearly urges us to flee boredom... because
"life is just too short"... and of course it is... but
what and how much of it is boring... depends... as so much...
daily junk mail count: 217
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
i am not writing here... you see me not
writing here... i am going to sleep... for a few hours... and
then i will think again about not writing here... but this doesn't
mean i will not write here... of course... because i will be writing
here... and here is there wherever your screen lights up... as
much as here where mine goes dark for a few hours... sleep
Doyle mentions Wendell Berry
Wendell Berry is definitely a hero. Perhaps because I grew up
in a small town in the rural Midwest (although not as a farm boy),
his thoughts really resonate with me. I don't agree with everything
he has to say, but he cuts through so much B.S., and he writes
like a dream.
daily junk mail count - 317
Monday, December 13, 2004
this morning i find a note from our provincial
offices... that fr. phil nessinger has died... another one of
the great old guys... rest in peace, phil...
this morning i find a note from mom...
that the young daughter of her cousin's son... has succumbed to
a long bout with cancer... rest in peace, kayley...
this morning i find 795 pieces of spam
in my school junk mail folder... there were none on friday when
t j b l
u g archive
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