This will probably be my last post here at Atelier of Alacrity. I have a new blog and new blogging partners at Blogsboro. My personal blog over there is Jazzytina and Budd's blog (my new husband) is BuddsView. We teamed up with Billy the Blogging Poet, and we're really enjoying the venture so far. I also maintain Budd's professional website, www.buddwilkins.com. Check his work out.
Just wanted to redirect for anyone who might be reading.
See you at Blogsboro!
Tina
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The Waiting
Tomorrow, the company I work for will be notifying numerous people, including me, if their jobs are being eliminated. Layoffs are never fun, as many people know. If I get the axe, this will be the 3rd time I've been involved in a layoff. This one is part of a reorganization of a very large department. Being a lower person on the totem pole, I'm not optimistic about my prospects. My tarot reader told me that there was a 75% chance that I would be gone. I'll know at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. So what will I do with three months of severence? I'm thinking of traveling a bit, working on promoting Budd, who has been writing furiously, his creative juices are flowing quite nicely. And maybe starting my own business, again. I created a website for it already, and named it after our cat, Scamper. It's called CreativeScamper.com. Crazy name, I know. But registering a domain name that's simple and completely clear in its description is really difficult these days. So what kind of business is it? Graphic design, web design and virtual assisting for small businesses and sole proprietors. I think it will be a good fit for me. Hey, if you need any of my services, check out my website and send an email to discuss your project. I feel optimistic already. Perhaps I can finally admit that I'm a serial entrepreneur.
Wish me luck in whatever endeavor. The waiting is, as Tom Petty said, the hardest part.
Wish me luck in whatever endeavor. The waiting is, as Tom Petty said, the hardest part.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Movie Review - The Bridge
I've always had a great fascination for things unexplained, and for very large structures. Bridges, in particular. Maybe it's from my years working in a civil engineering firm, although that particular firm didn't design bridges.
I dream about bridges frequently. I lived in a city - Jacksonville, Florida - which had a lot of bridges, several of which I crossed every day to go to and from work. When I first moved there, I was afraid to cross the bridges, but then it became a joy to ride with the windows down over the bridges, especially at night when they are lit up. It made for quite an adrenaline rush. My bridge dreams are filled with driving up toward a particularly high bridge and feeling the butterflies in my stomach before crossing, looking down through the grate as I pass over to the water below.
Budd, king of documentary film renting from Netflix, found a film that came out last year called The Bridge. It documents 365 days out of 2004 filming continuously at the Golden Gate Bridge, which I learned was the most popular suicide magnet in the world. More than 1,200 have plunged to their deaths since the Golden Gate opened in 1937, after the engineer proclaimed the bridge was "suicide-proof", and then the next group of engineers/contractors came in and lowered the railing to four feet in height.
The Bridge captured 23 of the 24 suicides in 2004, and actually shows 6 of them in progress. Three of the suicides are at pretty close range, and three are at a distance. The filmmaker, Eric Steele, then tracked down the family members, and without telling them he had footage of their loved one's demise, interviewed them about their thoughts and feelings toward their loved one and their suicide. I must admit I was more shocked by the reactions of friends and family than by the actual suicide footage itself; some cried, but most had the attitude of "so be it". A father from Virginia, whose son jumped in 2004, noted that his son had said to him, "Well, Dad, I may come back, and if I do, I'll see you, and if not, you'll know I'm at peace." I was also struck by the woman who said the planning involved in a suicide of any type is very lengthy and drawn out, and she likened the amount of preparation to trying to get into college.
The Golden Gate Bridge, although a monstrous structure, never held much fascination for me in the past. I think it was because it is one of the most photographed man-made objects in the world, and tons of information about the bridge is readily available. I never knew this very interesting history prior to watching this film, and I must admit it made me obsess about it for several days afterward, reading articles about preventing suicide from the bridge, how there's been a push to put up a suicide barrier since the first suicide in 1938, a year after the bridge opened. I just read in an October newspaper clipping where the plans for a suicide barrier have been delayed for about 9 months, in a year when more than 33 people have jumped from the bridge. The average for previous years is about 20 jumpers.
I've read reviews of this film that called it "gruesome," which it is not, and "ghastly." I've also read scathing remarks about how the filmmaker, in order to get the permits to film the bridge, had to "omit" information about what he was really filming, and angered the people who run the bridge. My personal opinion is that Steele and his crew recorded history and were very courageous to bring this issue to a larger audience, creating awareness that this is happening.
I found it particularly interesting when the filmmaker, in the "making of" extra on the DVD, noted that it takes quite a walk to get to the point on the bridge where most people jump off, and that the duration of that walk is usually the lowest point in a jumper's life. Do I think they should put up a suicide barrier at the cost of $15 to $20 million? It's a lot of money, and of course, the question of aesthetics always comes into play. But if the life of one person who impulsively decided to jump could be saved, wouldn't we say it was worth it? I don't know. I think suicide is a very personal decision, and people should have a right to die as they choose, although a swan dive off the Golden Gate Bridge is not as simple and painless as one might think. I also found it interesting that the majority of jumpers are white males from the Bay Area.
The Bridge is beautifully filmed with some incredible photography, and the score is haunting, reminiscent of American Beauty. Deeper digging into articles about the subject are equally as fascinating. The Bridge is an excellent documentary that can actually provoke some meaningful dialogue around a very difficult subject.
Some interesting links about the subject:
http://www.bridgerail.org/
http://www.sfgate.com/lethalbeauty/
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2003/10/13/031013fa_fact
I dream about bridges frequently. I lived in a city - Jacksonville, Florida - which had a lot of bridges, several of which I crossed every day to go to and from work. When I first moved there, I was afraid to cross the bridges, but then it became a joy to ride with the windows down over the bridges, especially at night when they are lit up. It made for quite an adrenaline rush. My bridge dreams are filled with driving up toward a particularly high bridge and feeling the butterflies in my stomach before crossing, looking down through the grate as I pass over to the water below.
Budd, king of documentary film renting from Netflix, found a film that came out last year called The Bridge. It documents 365 days out of 2004 filming continuously at the Golden Gate Bridge, which I learned was the most popular suicide magnet in the world. More than 1,200 have plunged to their deaths since the Golden Gate opened in 1937, after the engineer proclaimed the bridge was "suicide-proof", and then the next group of engineers/contractors came in and lowered the railing to four feet in height.
The Bridge captured 23 of the 24 suicides in 2004, and actually shows 6 of them in progress. Three of the suicides are at pretty close range, and three are at a distance. The filmmaker, Eric Steele, then tracked down the family members, and without telling them he had footage of their loved one's demise, interviewed them about their thoughts and feelings toward their loved one and their suicide. I must admit I was more shocked by the reactions of friends and family than by the actual suicide footage itself; some cried, but most had the attitude of "so be it". A father from Virginia, whose son jumped in 2004, noted that his son had said to him, "Well, Dad, I may come back, and if I do, I'll see you, and if not, you'll know I'm at peace." I was also struck by the woman who said the planning involved in a suicide of any type is very lengthy and drawn out, and she likened the amount of preparation to trying to get into college.
The Golden Gate Bridge, although a monstrous structure, never held much fascination for me in the past. I think it was because it is one of the most photographed man-made objects in the world, and tons of information about the bridge is readily available. I never knew this very interesting history prior to watching this film, and I must admit it made me obsess about it for several days afterward, reading articles about preventing suicide from the bridge, how there's been a push to put up a suicide barrier since the first suicide in 1938, a year after the bridge opened. I just read in an October newspaper clipping where the plans for a suicide barrier have been delayed for about 9 months, in a year when more than 33 people have jumped from the bridge. The average for previous years is about 20 jumpers.
I've read reviews of this film that called it "gruesome," which it is not, and "ghastly." I've also read scathing remarks about how the filmmaker, in order to get the permits to film the bridge, had to "omit" information about what he was really filming, and angered the people who run the bridge. My personal opinion is that Steele and his crew recorded history and were very courageous to bring this issue to a larger audience, creating awareness that this is happening.
I found it particularly interesting when the filmmaker, in the "making of" extra on the DVD, noted that it takes quite a walk to get to the point on the bridge where most people jump off, and that the duration of that walk is usually the lowest point in a jumper's life. Do I think they should put up a suicide barrier at the cost of $15 to $20 million? It's a lot of money, and of course, the question of aesthetics always comes into play. But if the life of one person who impulsively decided to jump could be saved, wouldn't we say it was worth it? I don't know. I think suicide is a very personal decision, and people should have a right to die as they choose, although a swan dive off the Golden Gate Bridge is not as simple and painless as one might think. I also found it interesting that the majority of jumpers are white males from the Bay Area.
The Bridge is beautifully filmed with some incredible photography, and the score is haunting, reminiscent of American Beauty. Deeper digging into articles about the subject are equally as fascinating. The Bridge is an excellent documentary that can actually provoke some meaningful dialogue around a very difficult subject.
Some interesting links about the subject:
http://www.bridgerail.org/
http://www.sfgate.com/lethalbeauty/
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2003/10/13/031013fa_fact
Friday, November 2, 2007
Stories from the Afterlife Book Launch Party Review - Quinn Dalton
Budd and I were fortunate enough to attend the book launch party for Quinn Dalton's latest, Stories from the Afterlife. I have to say, this was my first book launch party, and Press 53 and Two Art Chicks, the party hosts, did a marvelous job and put together a comfortable, entertaining evening for everyone. Dalton read an excerpt of her short story Jimmy the Brain and the Beautiful Aideen set to the live music of Dawn Chorus. I had never seen anything quite like that arrangement, and when the band started to play, I really wondered if Dalton was going to have to shout her reading over the music, but they obviously had practiced this before. Dalton's reading was mesmerizing, as was her story, which left the audience, or at least Budd and me, greatly anticipating more. Greensboro is fortunate to claim such a gifted writer as one of their own. Dawn Chorus was great, too, and we bought their CD collection as well as a solo effort by their drummer, Will Ridenour, which we've been enjoying immensely.
Dalton, whom I've only met once before, looked nothing like the hurried mother described in GoTriad. She was radiant in a velour top and floral skirt with lace strips on the side that were nearly floor-length. Wherever she gets her clothes, her personal style shows through. I overheard numerous positive comments from the crowd about how great she looked, and how compelling her reading was, especially backed by the band.
We had a great time in a great venue, and we're so pleased to know Quinn and to have another opportunity to enjoy her captivating work. And we were glad to be introduced to new, local music with Will Ridenour and Dawn Chorus. The magnitude of the crowd demonstrated clearly that arts are alive and well in Greensboro.
Quinn's website can be found here.
Dalton, whom I've only met once before, looked nothing like the hurried mother described in GoTriad. She was radiant in a velour top and floral skirt with lace strips on the side that were nearly floor-length. Wherever she gets her clothes, her personal style shows through. I overheard numerous positive comments from the crowd about how great she looked, and how compelling her reading was, especially backed by the band.
We had a great time in a great venue, and we're so pleased to know Quinn and to have another opportunity to enjoy her captivating work. And we were glad to be introduced to new, local music with Will Ridenour and Dawn Chorus. The magnitude of the crowd demonstrated clearly that arts are alive and well in Greensboro.
Quinn's website can be found here.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Book Review: The Lecturer's Tale
James Hynes is a storyteller to be reckoned with. After Kings of Infinite Space, I just didn't expect the kind of mind-bending experience with his earlier work, The Lecturer's Tale. How wrong I was. The Lecturer's Tale, published in 2001, nearly defies description. To say it is funny is a wild understatement. To say it is terrifying, well, it's not as terrifying as Kings, but it's creepy in a way that makes you want to re-read chapters two, three, maybe even four times to revel in its creepiness as well as its hilarity.
Nelson Humboldt is a part-time lecturer living in married housing at a university in Minnesota. By some stroke of crazy fate, his index finger is cut off one day by a bicycle wheel. Once the physician sews it back on, he tells Humboldt that he will never have feeling in that finger again. Very soon afterward, Humboldt begins to feel burning sensations in his finger, and much to his surprise, he learns that he can control the actions of others by touching them with the repaired finger. He sees his luck improving, and uses his magic finger trick to better his lot in life: new sections of composition to teach, a convenient and well-timed extension on his lease in the university's married housing. Soon, though, Humboldt seizes the opportunity for greater power through his finger on his quest for tenure at the university, both for himself and for his office-mate, Vita, a nervous, androgynous figure whose works in gender theory include "The Lesbian Phallus of Dorian Gray".
Humboldt is surrounded by a cast of academic crazies, among whom including a poet who has adopted an Irish accent and refers to himself as only "The Coogan"; a Serbian lecturer with a myriad of outfits and his ladyfriend; queer theorists; and the department chair, a Don Corleone type whose keynote address at a major literary conference was entitled "The Fuck Cares About Edmund Spenser".
Hynes writes with such furious wit and with so many literary references that, at times, I found it hard to keep up with the words on the page, but The Lecturer's Tale made for most delightful reading, as Humboldt and his finger take on greater challenges with increasingly sinister results. Unimaginable twists in the plot left me breathless and greatly anticipating Hynes' next work.
Nelson Humboldt is a part-time lecturer living in married housing at a university in Minnesota. By some stroke of crazy fate, his index finger is cut off one day by a bicycle wheel. Once the physician sews it back on, he tells Humboldt that he will never have feeling in that finger again. Very soon afterward, Humboldt begins to feel burning sensations in his finger, and much to his surprise, he learns that he can control the actions of others by touching them with the repaired finger. He sees his luck improving, and uses his magic finger trick to better his lot in life: new sections of composition to teach, a convenient and well-timed extension on his lease in the university's married housing. Soon, though, Humboldt seizes the opportunity for greater power through his finger on his quest for tenure at the university, both for himself and for his office-mate, Vita, a nervous, androgynous figure whose works in gender theory include "The Lesbian Phallus of Dorian Gray".
Humboldt is surrounded by a cast of academic crazies, among whom including a poet who has adopted an Irish accent and refers to himself as only "The Coogan"; a Serbian lecturer with a myriad of outfits and his ladyfriend; queer theorists; and the department chair, a Don Corleone type whose keynote address at a major literary conference was entitled "The Fuck Cares About Edmund Spenser".
Hynes writes with such furious wit and with so many literary references that, at times, I found it hard to keep up with the words on the page, but The Lecturer's Tale made for most delightful reading, as Humboldt and his finger take on greater challenges with increasingly sinister results. Unimaginable twists in the plot left me breathless and greatly anticipating Hynes' next work.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Concert Review - Van Halen Sept. 29 Greensboro
Having just read David Menconi's review over at the News & Record, I felt the need to put my own spin on things. For the true Van Halen-with-David Lee Roth-as-singer fan, Saturday night was nothing short of a miracle, not to mention a dream come true. Maybe it was because I was in the nosebleed section, but I don't think they could have sounded any better if they were 30 years younger. People I know who saw them 25 years ago said they were better at this show.
The energy required to put on a show at that pace for over 2 hours, well, it's just mind-boggling to me that they still have it. Obviously rehab really helped Eddie; I remember seeing a picture of him earlier this year where he looked like he was about 80 - scraggly gray hair, missing teeth - it was a sad sight indeed. And now, to see him doing his jumps and running all over the stage, well, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. He was nothing short of phenomenal on his guitar solos of "Cathedral" and "Eruption". And Wolfgang, for all the criticism he has received, really held his own, and obviously made his father very, very happy, which makes him a wonderful addition to the band.
At every concert I've ever attended, I've always left wishing that this song or that song had been played. Van Halen played them all, including my personal favorite, "Little Guitars", which did bring me to tears. I never ever thought I would see and hear that song performed live by those performers. It was magical.
I also thought that Roth was very gracious in telling the packed house "You have no idea what an honor and a privilege it is to play for you tonight." He's obviously been through a lot in the past few years, and now, he is right back where he belongs, with Eddie and Alex and Wolfgang. I hope they will get back in the studio, and be around for a long, long time to come. It was an absolutely unforgettable night, especially for those of us for whom VH was part of our very formative and impressionable years. We were the ones honored and privileged to be there.
The energy required to put on a show at that pace for over 2 hours, well, it's just mind-boggling to me that they still have it. Obviously rehab really helped Eddie; I remember seeing a picture of him earlier this year where he looked like he was about 80 - scraggly gray hair, missing teeth - it was a sad sight indeed. And now, to see him doing his jumps and running all over the stage, well, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. He was nothing short of phenomenal on his guitar solos of "Cathedral" and "Eruption". And Wolfgang, for all the criticism he has received, really held his own, and obviously made his father very, very happy, which makes him a wonderful addition to the band.
At every concert I've ever attended, I've always left wishing that this song or that song had been played. Van Halen played them all, including my personal favorite, "Little Guitars", which did bring me to tears. I never ever thought I would see and hear that song performed live by those performers. It was magical.
I also thought that Roth was very gracious in telling the packed house "You have no idea what an honor and a privilege it is to play for you tonight." He's obviously been through a lot in the past few years, and now, he is right back where he belongs, with Eddie and Alex and Wolfgang. I hope they will get back in the studio, and be around for a long, long time to come. It was an absolutely unforgettable night, especially for those of us for whom VH was part of our very formative and impressionable years. We were the ones honored and privileged to be there.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Book Review: Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl
I've only just recently picked up the habit of reading fiction again, after many long years of reading nothing but magazines, newspapers and business-related nonfiction. I've found great joy in this pastime, particularly in a book that I found in my paperback book club: Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl.
This is the first novel from this young writer; I believe she is 28. (And, for those who frequent Borders, they currently have it on sale.) The book is set in the mountains of North Carolina, where the heroine, a 16-year-old girl named Blue van Meer, has moved with her brilliant professor father, who moves from college to college like bees to blossoms in your vegetable garden. Blue's mother died when Blue was very young, so she idolizes her father as they play word and trivia games reserved exclusively for the erudite set.
Blue settles into her new school as the geeky, awkward kid with the genius father, and soon she is befriended by the part-time film teacher, an earthy bohemian type certainly not native to Appalachia named Hannah Schneider. Hannah holds court with five of the most popular students in the school every Sunday at her house, cooking gourmet meals, smoking cigarettes and drinking wine while listening to old Billie Holiday on the stereo. She invites Blue to join in on these sessions, where Hannah has a Svengali-like influence on the group.
The Popular Five are hesitant to accept Blue until one night, when she initiates herself by becoming drunk and sick, and then earns the nickname "Retch" or "Hurl", thereby earning her place in the group.
We're told at the beginning of the book that a year has passed since Hannah died, so the mystery begins. Pessl tells her story with enormous detail, and hundreds of literary and cultural references, many of which I had to ask Budd about, because, hey, he's a lot more literate than me.
This is a mesmerizing book that is both laugh-out-loud funny and wonderfully, strangely mystifying at the same time. Blue learns that things are never what they seem, and the people you hold most dear are never quite who you think they are, or even where you think they are. I must admit I was left wondering a bit at the end of the book, as the last chapter is written as a multiple-choice quiz with some answers hidden in the choices. Even though it doesn't tie itself up neatly, it left me thinking about it for a long time after reading it, and that, to me, is the joy of a work of fiction such as Special Topics in Calamity Physics. Highly literate readers who are fans of mysterious stories with a comedic twist will enjoy this book a great deal. I've heard that the movie rights have been optioned for this; I really hope film can do the book justice.
This is the first novel from this young writer; I believe she is 28. (And, for those who frequent Borders, they currently have it on sale.) The book is set in the mountains of North Carolina, where the heroine, a 16-year-old girl named Blue van Meer, has moved with her brilliant professor father, who moves from college to college like bees to blossoms in your vegetable garden. Blue's mother died when Blue was very young, so she idolizes her father as they play word and trivia games reserved exclusively for the erudite set.
Blue settles into her new school as the geeky, awkward kid with the genius father, and soon she is befriended by the part-time film teacher, an earthy bohemian type certainly not native to Appalachia named Hannah Schneider. Hannah holds court with five of the most popular students in the school every Sunday at her house, cooking gourmet meals, smoking cigarettes and drinking wine while listening to old Billie Holiday on the stereo. She invites Blue to join in on these sessions, where Hannah has a Svengali-like influence on the group.
The Popular Five are hesitant to accept Blue until one night, when she initiates herself by becoming drunk and sick, and then earns the nickname "Retch" or "Hurl", thereby earning her place in the group.
We're told at the beginning of the book that a year has passed since Hannah died, so the mystery begins. Pessl tells her story with enormous detail, and hundreds of literary and cultural references, many of which I had to ask Budd about, because, hey, he's a lot more literate than me.
This is a mesmerizing book that is both laugh-out-loud funny and wonderfully, strangely mystifying at the same time. Blue learns that things are never what they seem, and the people you hold most dear are never quite who you think they are, or even where you think they are. I must admit I was left wondering a bit at the end of the book, as the last chapter is written as a multiple-choice quiz with some answers hidden in the choices. Even though it doesn't tie itself up neatly, it left me thinking about it for a long time after reading it, and that, to me, is the joy of a work of fiction such as Special Topics in Calamity Physics. Highly literate readers who are fans of mysterious stories with a comedic twist will enjoy this book a great deal. I've heard that the movie rights have been optioned for this; I really hope film can do the book justice.
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