Another odd moment

I’m again sitting in the back yard, surveying my handiwork (more about that in a later post), and I notice in the rays of the setting sun scores of little white dots hovering above my freshly tilled soil. They are members of a tiny fly species of some kind, and they fill the bands of light with so much Brownian motion. Accompanied by something playing on my “Tosca” station on Pandora, they assume a significance that would surely be enhanced by entheogenic substances of one kind or another.

These tiny points of life are visible only when they are in the sunlight. As soon as they drift into shadow, they vanish. If the sun were blocked, one would never know that the yard is full of life.

In contrast to their lazy — to me it’s lazy, to them I’m sure it’s frantic — floating about, there are occasional meteors of something dropping straight to the ground. It seems to be coming from the trees. Exudations of some kind? Caterpillar excrement? I don’t know and cannot tell where it’s coming from.

More determined insects, predators?, zip through the space, bursting into view from one side of a block of sunlight and blazing straight across the band before vanishing again.

The sun is about to drop into position to blaze directly into my eyes. Time to go find something to eat.

Another poem, if I were a poet.

Odd moment

I’m in the back yard, drinking my absinthe and just generally enjoying the lovely evening, in front of my fire, when I notice that there seem to be a lot of leaves falling. I look up and see that the fire, which is in its first throes of consumption, has produced such a violent updraft that it is shaking all the newly dead leaves of early fall loose into the air, and so they fall in a gentle shower around the fire.

There’s a poem in there, if I were a poet.

Sir Christémas redux

You may recall, if you’ve been a faithful reader, that last year about this time I sent off a choral piece called “Sir Christémas” to the Welcome Christmas competition. Last year, the required accompaniment was celeste. (This year it was French horn, and I didn’t get anything written.)

You may also recall, or maybe I never shared, that after it didn’t win I tinkered around with it and reset it with organ. It’s been floating around out there, untouched since last fall, and now I have dusted it off for another round. I have added percussion this time to the organ accompaniment: tambourine, glockenspiel, tom-toms, and bass drum.

Here’s the score, and here’s the mp3.

I’m submitting it to the Masterworks Chorale for our Christmas concert. After reading through the stuff we’re considering last night, I figured that mine’s not as strange as a couple of them, as long as we’re being adventurous.

Also, today I put A Visit to William Blake’s Inn in the mail to George Contini at UGA.

I’ll keep you posted on both items.

William Blake’s Inn

The University of Georgia Department of Theatre and Film Studies will be considering A Visit to William Blake’s Inn for their 2009-2010 season. I haven’t blogged about this and haven’t even really mentioned it anywhere, except at some point over on the Lichtenbergian site someone blew my cover and I had to respond. I haven’t even told Nancy Willard about it yet.

George Contini is a professor at UGA who moderated the panel on regional/community theatre that I spoke at last fall, and I jokingly suggested that his interest in computer graphics and projections made him a natural for William Blake’s Inn. I sent him a CD and a cover letter, and this past summer, he emailed me and told me he was submitting it.

The old gang got together last week at Craig Humphrey’s studio to record the work for UGA’s consideration. The committee requires some form of performance recording; it’s easier to hear it sung, even if shakily, than to try to figure it out by reading the piano/vocal score. I’ll submit the CD, the vocal score, the orchestral score, and a cover letter with all kinds of details from Lacuna Group’s exploration of the work last year.

I have to do this next week.

And then… I just have to wait to hear.

Everyone says this is exciting. I am not excited. I’ve had this piece shot down before, and I’m not holding my breath. If they choose to do it, then I’ll be excited. But getting excited about the possibility would be completely pointless, unless I enjoyed the agony of suspense and disappointment.

So there you go. I’ll print everything up on Monday, get the CD ready, and mail it all out sometime during the week. Then I can return to my current status as a non-composer, wondering if I’ll ever sit down with score paper in front of me again.

Literacy

I was appointed to be a member of the State Literacy Task Force. We are charged with developing a proposal for a long-term plan to improve literacy across the board in Georgia.

Our first task, which we’re already behind on, is to define literacy.

I am not being flippant when I suggest as a definition the ability to find and use information. Yes, it’s totally colored by my day job as a media specialist, but think about it. If we charged schools and communities to make sure their students and citizens could find and use information, then we don’t have to get into reading and technology and blah blah blah. Do what it takes to make it happen.

In chatting about this with Kevin on Saturday morning, I allowed as how, despite what you might think, I was not interested in including padding like “self-enrichment” in the definition, because that’s not something the state has any control over, or vested interest in, if I were to turn all Antonin Scalia on us.

Then Kevin said something that I though was very important and I wrote it down immediately to steal: “Sort of like a Maslow’s hierarchy for literacy?”

Bingo!

So whattaya say, dear readers? Help me develop said hierarchy, and we shall be as gods.

Labyrinth, 9/21/08

It was decided at last night’s Lichtenbergian contemplation of the labyrinth that I would outline the paths instead of paving them. Much easier and cheaper.

It was also suggested that instead of digging a trench into which I would set the stones, I should lay out the labyrinth and then bring in truckloads of new topsoil and just shovel it into the labyrinth, leveling the ground with the stones. I could then plant grass in the new soil.

This morning I removed all the stones except the center. My next step will be to draw the circle on the stones and find someone who can cut those for me.

Then I have to find a topsoil supplier who can get a truck through my carport.

Excelsior.

Acting

I’m in the back yard, sucking down life-giving beverages as Bertie Wooster might say, and learning Valeria’s lines for Coriolanus. I love Valeria. She’s a total butterfly.

There are several challenges to her, however. One is the fact that she precedes nearly every line with a silly oath: “O’ my word,” “O’ my troth,” “Indeed, la,” “Verily,” and on and on. It’s never the same twice. Since she’s in prose and not iambic pentameter, I don’t suppose it matters which one I use when.

The more interesting thing I’ve observed as I’ve walked to and fro about the labyrinth between sips of my vodka and tonic is how inflections will creep into my delivery which are absolutely right and absolutely hysterical. I stop to try to analyze the emotional/social impulse which caused that delivery, and while it may be blameable on the vodka tonics but is more likely to be attributable to my general inability to define emotional impulses, I find those impulses to be very slippery. Mostly what I find myself thinking about is the craft of acting.

These inflections are subtle and comically apt, and I can’t think that I would be able to hit them by musing ahead of time on the social impulses that created them. Instead, I think it comes of observing people and knowing the kind of person Valeria is and linking her to similar people I’ve seen, either in life or in performance. And in either case, the lady in question is still “performing,” so her delivery is always a bit arch, a bit “on.” So the social impulse I find myself following most often in her speech is “society performer.”

I don’t think that’s bad acting, either, actually. If the vocalization feels right, then, like Larry Olivier, I can develop the physical stance and the inner life to match. Outside in. If it works, use it.

Labyrinth: 9/14/08

No work on the actual labyrinth, of course, because I’m waiting for the Lichtenbergians to contemplate and decide how I should proceed.

I did continue reclaiming the brick edging, however, and that led to some surprising results:

You can see the edging clearly here, and even more amazingly, you can see a whole lot more of the yard!

Until this afternoon, the ivy and growth covered everything up to the labyrinth itself. I cleared away five or six wheelbarrows full.

I was just minding my own business, digging up the bricks (behind the tree in the photo), when all of a sudden the next brick, instead of curving to my left and cutting straight towards you in the photograph, headed straight for the ivy.

I sort of liked all the undergrowth and was hesitant to clear it out, but neither did I want to leave all those bricks unclaimed. Finally I decided to go for it and tear everything out.

I discovered ferns that I had planted years ago, still bravely putting out a couple of fronds. I discovered our cat Miranda’s grave. I discovered, as you can see in the photo, that my original layout for the labyrinth cut directly across the outward curve on the left of the photo.

Not a problem, I thought to myself, since my calculations yesterday indicated that the labyrinth would in actuality be smaller. I got out a measuring device to see exactly how much smaller, and that’s when I discovered that, no, actually, my original plans were quite accurate. Feh.

It’s not really a problem. When I begin actually laying the stone, I’ll move the border.

All in all, a lovely day: beautiful weather, and I successfully avoided working on anything important.

Labyrinth, 9/13/08

I spent yesterday afternoon playing with the labyrinth, laying out some stones to see how to proceed.

On one half, I paved the path. You can see already that it’s going to require a lot of cutting and fitting. I would probably have to acquire a saw capable of cutting curves, since the center is supposed to be a circle. Of course, I could settle for a table saw to make straight cuts, which would be most of the cuts I’d need, then find someone who could make the dozen or so curved cuts for me.

The cost would be unconscionable as well. I can’t really justify spending what I spent on this one pallet three more times. The stones you’ll see in these photos are about half the pallet!

The time factor is negligible. I quite enjoy getting to work on it, and it is certainly Lichtenbergian in its time-wasting potential. So what if it takes me over a year to complete it? It’s not San Simeon, but it will do.

Here’s another shot of the paved paths. There would be a certain grandeur to covering my back yard in 6″ paving stones, to be sure. I’d essentially be creating a patio, wouldn’t I?

It also would be better, as Mike pointed out in comments previously, to have a stone path for barefoot walking. It would be a lot easier to sweep acorns, twigs, and pecans off the stone path than try to get them out of grass or mulch.

You can see in this shot how many curved cuts would be needed over on the center.

Design note #1: See where the outline comes down and stops at the turnaround at the bottom of the photo? In a perfect world, I’d run power under this thing and have an embedded light at the endpoints of the outline, something like a glass sphere lit from underneath. There are four of these endpoints.

Design note #2: Here we are at the center. I spent some time yesterday clearing away debris and vines from the pile of bricks over in the corner of the yard, because it dawned on me what a good design resource they’d be here. Here I’ve placed bricks on the four cardinal lines of the compass. Notice I’ve left the center blank. I’m going to have four more stones there, with a circle cut out. I’ll dig a hole in the center and put a bowl in it, black, maybe blue (yes, with drainage holes). The circle stones will overlap the bowl, and there in the center of the labyrinth we’ll have a nice omphalos. It might be interesting to fill it with water, for example, or to have a candle in it. Again, in a perfect world, we could place lights under the rim.

No matter whether I pave the paths or pave the outline, I’m going to have to have the curved cuts made for the center stones, just because the center has to be round. Why? Because I said so.

Design note #3: I decided I could break up the endless gray path with quick bands of brick.

I could do that every x number of feet, which, given the topology of the path, would look random, or I could do it in some pattern.

At the moment, I’m thinking I’m going to do it on the western axis, those great back-and-forth sweeps that form the visually uninterrupted arc of the top half. (The bottom half gets all tumultuous with switchbacks.)

Even if I don’t pave the paths, I could do the brick inserts in the path as a design thing.

After all I got all the stones laid out, it was still early and I was enjoying being all sweaty and semi-naked in my shorts, so I went to uncover the brick edging around the back of the yard. Didn’t know there was brick edging? That’s because it’s been covered with an inch or so of dirt and over grown with ivy. Like the brick walkway up top, it’s not hard to reclaim, although it’s a little more work than the walkway because I have to get rid of the ivy as well.

Here’s the other half of the labyrinth, where I paved the outline.

There’s a lot that’s appealing about this approach. First, the expanse of green is soothing, although of course in the winter it wouldn’t be green.

Second, it would be dead easy to accomplish. I could rent a trench digger and be done in a couple of days, rather than a year and a half.

Notice how the entire labyrinth will be slightly smaller than my spray-painted guidelines. That was a quick and dirty layout just to see if the whole thing would fit, which it just did, barely. It’s good that it will come in by a foot or two.

Now to the problems with this approach. As I’ve mentioned repeatedly, keeping the path clear would be a bitch. We’d just have to accept that sandals are permissible for barefoot walking.

Getting grass to grow in the back yard has always been tough, although I’ve never really put any concentrated effort into it. Consultation is called for. I know, though, that we’re talking a lot of tilling and amending of soil even to get started. (I’m going to have to till the whole area anyway, in order to level out some of the irregularities.)

Also, with a paved path, mowing the outline would be easy: just follow the outlines, and the mower just scoots along on the path. Mowing the path, however, would be more of a problem, since the lawnmower is wider than the path. I’d have to make sure the whole thing is level, so I could try to mow over the whole thing. My experience with my brick edgers, however, suggest that this doesn’t really work.

Keeping the weeds at bay with paved paths would be easier as well: just spray Round-Up on the paths. Keeping the outlines weed-free would be a lot harder.

So, I have choices to make. Next weekend, perhaps.