My MacBook is out for repairs, I am crashing at my friend’s house while she’s cycling in Holland, and all my routines are out the window.
But: I am blogging from my iPod Touch. Ain’t that something!
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Nina Paley made a movie! It’s not playing anywhere around here yet, but you can watch the trailer. It’s great eye-candy. I’m really curious about the story too.
If the trailer makes you impatient to see more, you can watch a few excerpts.
Paley made Sita Sings the Blues on her laptop; it took five years. She’s the artist who designed the original Cruzio logo.
There’s a beautifully written essay by someone who worked on a project with Richard Feynman, the quantum electrodynamics physicist.
The writer describes how Richard loved to explain subjects normally considered difficult and complex in simple, easy terms, and how he didn’t consider that he’d finished learning something until he had taught it to others.
I love this attitude. Fifteen years of preschool teaching convinced me that anyone can learn anything, as long as it’s taught intelligently. It’s a fun challenge to come up with a simple explanation—or demonstration—of, say, the fact that fire needs oxygen to burn. It’s a thrill when the five-year-olds understand you.
Feynman had a genius for teaching because he was fascinated with dismantling problems and concepts into the simplest pieces. He also had confidence that his audience, whether students or casual listeners, would understand him.
If this sounds interesting, take a look at Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!—one of the most entertaining books I’ve read. (I’m sure you can find it in your local library.) Feynman was a great scientist, a great teacher, a goofy prankster, and without fail, a wonderful storyteller.
Those tall stalks bending over with the weight of their huge pods, warm from the sun…they called to me. So I harvested a few favas.
I had the last batch fresh, but they were gone so quickly it was frustrating. A gallon of pods reduces down to less than a quart of hulled beans reduces to one serving of peeled beans. I plan to freeze these and use them in soup—make them last a little longer. There’s nothing like a little flavor of summer when the cold weather hits.
It is a good day to remember Chilean folksinger and poet Victor Jara.
Jara was murdered by the Pinochet regime 35 years ago. One of his murderers has finally been convicted.
Jara’s memory and music live on.
I can’t write more movingly than has already been done, so go read, see, and listen.
Yesterday, after buying a sunflower at the downtown farmers’ market, I parked my bike to hang out and listen to the Zimbabwean marimba band. (Add “bouncing dorkily to traditional African rhythms” to the list of stuff white people like!) Normally I’d pass them by, finding the repetitive tunes extremely boring. Yesterday was different. I was tired and stressed. The music was medicine. The ringing harmonies resonated in my chest and got me breathing more deeply and smiling.
Even though I’m obsessed with my collection of recorded music and hardly ever go to concerts, I try to stay open to street musicians. Not the ones belting out cliched covers—the ones who “play real good for free.” If they’re good enough to get me to stop my bike, I usually make a donation.
Some other kinds of good music I’ve heard in downtown Santa Cruz in fairly recent memory:
Bluegrass fiddle
Spanish classical guitar
Berimbau
Dobro
Loud folk punk singers
Soulful singer-songwriters
Jolly Galician accordion tunes
How about you? Any additions to the list? Anyone have photos of Santa Cruz street musicians? Maybe I should start carrying my camera with me (though I’d have to learn to use it).
