Passion or Obsession?

When I was in my teens, I saw my first Vermeer, The Concert, at the Gardner Museum in Boston during a Girl Scout field trip. I became enamored of the artist and his use of light.  As I aged and traveled, I managed to view Vermeers in New York, London, Washington, DC, Edinburgh, Paris Amsterdam and The Hague. I thought I had a passion for the man's work. Wrong!

I recently watched Tim's Vermeer, a documentary film by Penn and Teller tracing Penn's friend Tim Denison's 2008-2013 quest to satisfy himself that Vermeer used technology to create his amazing accurate details and astounding shadings. He argues that if Vermeer did use tech, then he (Denison) should be able to "paint a Vermeer" using that same tech, even though he had never painted anything in his life. A video/television inventor and technician, Denison thought Vermeer used a mirror and a version of the camera obscure to capture the actual light in a room. Denison interested Professor Phillip Steadman and artist David Hockney in his search; their reactions when he unveiled his Vermeer were wonderful.

I was awed by this man's determination to answer his questions about the painter's techniques. I realize Denison's fortune enable him to fulfill his quest. Nonetheless, I am in awe of his resolution to continue despite the backbreaking work and mind-melting attention to detail. I shuddered when he cut the lathe in half because he needed one a big longer in order to re-create the furniture leg he needed. An entirely different shudder went through me when he realized he had to paint the rug's individual threads and knots. (I was flabbergasted when that detail was the first thing Hockney commented on she he saw the finished painting.)

One question permeates the film: Why does there have to be chasm between art and technology? So what if Vermeer used lenses and mirrors to replicate what he imagined, he still put paint to canvas and created wonders.

I won't share the entire saga, just tidbits I noted as I watched, then re-watched this 80 minute film.

• 133 days to paint the picture
• learned how to make paints like Vermeer would have used
• created lenses and mirrors aping those of Vermeer's time
• 213 days to create a replica of the room in Vermeer's house where so many of his paintings are situated
• not one shred of paper documentation exists about Vermeer's art (Hockney argues that a painting IS a document.)
• fewer than 3 dozen Vermeers exist in the world

When you have an hour or so, watch the film. Then ask yourself two questions while you make plans to visit the closest museum displaying a Vermeer.

1. Is Denison the embodiment of passion or obsession?
2. Just because technology is used, does it lessen the impact of the art?

Thank you Penn for having the perspicacity to envision this project. Thank you Tim for allowing your labors and feelings to be recorded. Thank you Johannes Vermeer for bringing light to my world.

Discovering a new Jane

Tarzan. 

Not many single words conjure the variety of images that one name does. For more than a century, a loincloth clad, black maned, seriously muscled White Ape swinging through the jungle canopy has engaged the minds of people all over the world. Me included. Yet, in all the years I have fantasized about The Ape-man, Jane seldom figured in my imaginings. That changed three days ago when I began to read Robin Maxwell's 2012 novel Jane: The Woman Who Loved Tarzan. I am now as fascinated as much by her as by him.

Maxwell captivated me in the first paragraphs in which Edgar Burroughs sits enthralled by the "magnificently bold" Jane Porter's presentation at the Chicago Public Library in 1912. I read voraciously, even though I am intimately acquainted with Borroughs' original Tarzan novel having taught it for many years in my American Literature Language Arts classes. I always looked forward to my students' reactions to the conclusion, which is so different ftom the Hollywood and television versions! 

When you read the novel, do not skip Maxwell's "Author's Note" at the end. It is an illuminating peek into the psyche of this woman who seems to have much in common with Burroughs' heroine. Both relish the challenges inherent in the vocations they have chosen. 

To my amazement, the Disney animated Tarzan more closely echoes the Jane of Maxwell's novel than any other film adaptation. In each, she is a woman caught trying to resolve many quandries in her life: coping with a burgeoning awareness of her sexuality, a Victorian Age enlightened woman ewanting a man's freedom, guilt over fulfilling her academic dreams at the expense of the Mangani, trying to define love. 

I read my local library's copy. I have already ordered my own copy, so I can annotate! I know this is a book I will re-read often in my future. 

Adventure Redefined

In April I blogged about my one Alpine adventure. That has inspired me to think more about what it means to have an adventure. I have always defined it as (with sincere apologies to Gene Roddenberry) "going where I have never been before."

When Ivy and I climbed partway up that Alp, I was a lot younger, considerably more athletic and prone to take actions that were not well planned. I once drove 1500 miles to visit a long-lost friend as a result of a phone call and the fact that I didn't have to work for the next four days. That same whimsy made me apply for a job while I was visiting her which resulted one month later in me packing my belongings into my aging Ford Pinto and taking up a new life 11 states and two climate zones away from where I'd lived all my life. New places and people excited me, they still do.

That said, I am not an explorer. I have no desire to see what is over the horizon. I want to follow the previously blazed trail. I do not want to be the first person into the new country. I would have loathed being with Daniel Boone or with Lewis and Clark. I want to see places I've never seen before, but I want someone to have gone before me doing the grunt work, marking where the quicksands are and letting me know beforehand that I need to have a supply of water with me or fill up my car with gas for the next several hundred miles.

Though not an explorer, I guess I could have been a pioneer, of sorts. I've popped up my tent in sundry beach and forest campgrounds from Maine to the Florida Keys, and when the weather was uncooperative, spent many a night in the back of my station wagon. I have slept in many a European youth hostel bed and used my Eurail Pass until it faded. Not so much in recent years though, as the creature comforts of Hampton Inn have taken precedence over the closeness to nature offered by camping and hosteling.

Another change is that I am no longer as enthusiastic about solo-adventuring as I used to be. It has nothing to do with fear and everything to do immediate sharing (and follow-up conversations)! Recently I saw an opportunity to "learn about wildlife photography" at our Zoo as part of the Wild Amelia Nature Festival. I was intrigued and gave it to my best friend as gift. 

Our adventure began when we had to get up and moving before 5:00 AM!!! The zoo is about an hour away and we were supposed to meet our group before 7:0) AM. The Wild Amelia organizer, Steve Leimberg, divided the group into 6 teams of about 5 and set us loose in the Zoo for hours before the official opening. How fabulous. I learned a lot. I participated in a fabulous behind the scenes tour, dined on a tasty, casual brunch. Took many, many pictures, met Ali (a elephant rescued from Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch).

AND I patted a rhinoceros!!!!!!!

So, am I now less adventurous than I used to be? I don't believe I am; I believe I have redefined "adventure" as "looking at life through a different lens."

For anyone interested in an adventure with wildlife in an atmosphere permeated by jungle scents and wilderness noises but accompanied by civilized eating opportunities, enlightening conversations/lectures and convenient facilities, join me for this experience in 2015!  

Once a teacher, Always a teacher

Two years into retirement I am still as coping with the physical detritus of 36 years of teaching: papers, lesson plans, tests and student-work. (Hint to teachers – scan, save, then toss!!!!) As I skimmed each document deciding to scan and save or trash, I found myself actually reading many and being amazed at the variety of assignments I have created. I have become impressed with my creativity.

Two years into retirement I am still as coping with the physical detritus of 36 years of teaching: papers, lesson plans, tests and student-work. (Hint to teachers – scan, save, then toss!!!!) As I skimmed each document deciding to scan and save or trash, I found myself actually reading many and being amazed at the variety of assignments I have created. I have become impressed with my creativity.

Over the decades, my students were required to stretch their capabilities and imaginations as they completed the following:

·       To facilitate their comprehension of the idea that “ubiquitous” and “diversity” are corollaries, each student was given an assortment of pebbles and asked to explain how each pebble reflected a person in the class.

·       As a characterization exercise, students had to match a character to one aisle in the grocery store.

·        In Hamlet, Ophelia gives “flowers” to others. To understand the concept of Flower Language,” create a bouquet of 12 blossoms given from a television show character to a movie character.

·       Give a speech on the similarities and differences between how you celebrated your 16^th birthday and how one of your grandparents celebrated theirs.

·       Explain how your day is normal.

·       Rationalize why you have watched one movie or listened to one song more than 20 times.

·       What movie will be the first you watch with your own child?

·       Using the first 20 songs in your player, create the Soundtrack of your Life.

·       Squander $20 million. Your grade will reflect how closely you adhere to the definition of “squander.”

·      Explain how each astrological sign applies to a character from the novel you read.

·       Finding Motifs: create an “Everything I Need to Know to Succeed I Learned From…” poster based on the work we just completed.

·       What television show would you like to include you as a character?

Those are a sampling of what I have found. A task I anticipated taking a week or so is now in its second year. I am having a really good time enjoying an ego-trip centering on an array of imaginative assignments.

I still have that vibe going on in my head. I read a passage in a book, hear a song lyric, look at a photo and an assignment pops into my head. It pleases that the ideas still flow.

You can take a teacher out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of a teacher!

Taking the High Road

            The novel I am reading for my book club (Rite of Passage by Alexei Panshin) contains a conversation between Jimmy and Mia about what constitutes an adventure. Jimmy argues that Mia had one when she went down to a planet's surface; she responds that falling off a boat and swallowing nasty tasting water is NOT an adventure. so he sets out to find a "real adventure" for her. This sparked my thoughts about experiences I have had that would fulfill Mia's idea of "adventure,” of taking the high road to somewhere.

The high road experience I want to share had nothing to do with ethical dilemmas, nor with the “Bonnie Banks O' Loch Lomond.” My high road had everything to do with fulfilling a dream, checking an item off my Bucket List.

            In my 20’s, I read an adventure novel by Trevanian entitled The Eiger Sanction. The climax of the plot was precipitated by an avalanche down the North Face of the Eiger. Years later as part of a college summer studying in Europe, I had the chance to go to Switzerland, to stay in Lauterbrunnen, the town at the base of the Jungfrau Massif… a collection of three Alps of which the Eiger is one.

            The first morning I woke up in the youth hostel in Lauterbrunnen, I began to make arrangements to see the Eiger, up close and personal. I convinced Ivy Westwood to accompany me on my quest. We talked to several people at the hostel and the post office. We checked our shoes and socks (very important everyone told us, to have thick socks in comfortable shoes), loaded our back packs, made sure we had film in our cameras and water in our canteens. We did not need a map; after all, we only had to “follow the road behind the hostel until it turns into a path which will take you to the high meadow. From there you’ll see the glacier.”

            Ivy and I set off the next morning right after breakfast. As we walked the path, we found ourselves in Heidi country: steep, grass covered slopes peppered with small colorful, slant-roofed chalets. We stopped taking pictures of each other and the breathtaking scenery after the second roll of film. As we stepped over a couple of shallow rills, we remembered the hostel manager’s advice, “Don’t drink the water. It’s clean and pure, but it’s straight off the glacier and will freeze you from the inside out.” We didn’t really “climb” in the technical, Alpine sense of that word, as the path we followed wound up the side of the mountain in easy stages. Though we were fairly sure the manager was kidding us as tourists, we didn’t risk it. We never gasped for breath from exertion, though the air tasted different that far up an Alp. As we walked, the sun shone in cloudless skies; warm breezes made us never notice the sweat, if we even had any.

            Ivy and I ate lunch sitting on a flat rock overlooking the Lauterbrunnen valley, which I discovered years later was J.R.R. Tolkien’s inspiration for Rivendell. After all these years, I still remember the silence of the place.  We fell asleep in the Alpine grass and napped for about an hour.  Then we began our trek home to the village.

            The day remained perfect. Until we reached what on the climb up had been a shallow rill but had become a roaring torrent of glacial run-off, after the day of warm weather. What had been a step-over waterway had become a four-foot wide wade-through waterway. Ivy and I decided that removing our shoes and socks would be smarter than walking home with wet ones. We did not anticipate how cold glacial run-off is! One shoe in each hand, we stepped into the rushing water . . . shrieked and jumped, landing on our rear ends on the opposite side of the rill.  That water was so cold, it BURNED.  Dry socks and shoes never felt so good.

            Only one negative aspect of our experience: in our leap to dry land, our packs jolted off our shoulders and all our stuff floated down the water. Ivy and I have memories but no proof of our close encounter with an Alp. Our Kodak moments drifted away on a mountain stream.

            I took the high road that day and had an Alpine adventure I’ve cherished for years.

Chemistry

           

            I have always been a player with words, trying to expand meanings and applications beyond the obvious.  Even back in high school, I knew that Chemistry was not close to the “exact science” Mr. Leistinger tried so hard to make me believe it was. I was assured of my belief every time I carefully followed the experiment’s directions and ended up with some indescribable residue rather than the nifty puff of smoke produced by my classmates’ efforts to manage the positive and negative valences of the elements. The prescribed measure of that hard science was beyond me; the metaphysical nature of the idea of “chemistry” was not. In fact, the longer I was in a classroom, the more I was convinced that "real" chemistry is that immeasurable connection that occurs between/among living beings who share an activity. Case in point: my efforts to teach high school Juniors about prepositions.

            Brief prologue: that year the Florida Legislature realized (Accepted? Faced up to the fact?) that, though the state’s FCAT scores were higher than expected, the students’ SAT Essay scores demonstrated a marked decline in writing skills. The legislators’ response was to include grammar skills in the FCAT test, thus, condemning 10^th graders all over the state to lower scores because the Language Arts focus for the past decade has been on reading to the almost total exclusion of writing. (Enough of my mini-rant.) Many of my Juniors were caught in this sinkhole, so each month I focused writing skills on one grammar specific. In November, prepositions were the target of choice.

            Right after Halloween, the students took a pre-test on prepositions. 84% failed. Our goal was clear. We worked and worked on preposition recognition and use. After a couple of weeks of groaning acquiescence to the rote material, I gave the post-test because classwork and homework indicated an increase in preposition knowledge. Alas, 63% still failed. An improvement but not the numbers I wanted. The disparaging faces that greeted the news of the scores drove me to experiment with a different learning approach - I took my kids back to kindergarten.

            I handed each student a sheet of paper with 20 squirrels printed on it, 20 bits of string, a pair of scissors, and crayons. The students cut out and colored the squirrels, inscribing one preposition on each squirrel and attaching a string bit. Then I rolled into the room a 7’ ficus I had borrowed from the Media Center and instructed the kids to attach the squirrels to the tree as prescribed by the preposition on each squirrel.

            23 teenagers stormed that poor tree. The first few squirrels were placed with no problems. Then the fun began as the elements of my experiment began to mix.  Football tight-end Charles was insistent that tennis-player Alex could not hang his “by” squirrel on the branch where he (Charles) had already hung his “with” squirrel as the leaves were “with” each other on the branch. Alex’s retort was that the leaves were “by each other.” This scenario was echoed when Chloe tried to put her “over” squirrel in the vicinity of Maria’s “above” one; Chloe eventually surrendered to Maria’s argument that “Heaven is above us, not over us.”  My favorite was Jon and Bradley’s contretemps over which was deeper, “beneath” or “under.” Bradley was victorious when Charles interrupted them to point out that when he’s tackled he’s “beneath a player but under a pile of bodies.”

            The lesson took over the class. 48 minutes after the initial bell rang, the kids were still contesting preposition placement. The next door teacher came around the all to see what was going on because my students were laughing so much that hers did not want to watch Ivanhoe.

            The final post-test was November 21; 100% passed. Almost two dozen teenagers had changed their elemental knowledge of preposition use because of the chemistry inherent in play. If Mr. Leistinger could have seen my class that day, he might have acknowledged that I had finally gotten an experiment right and that "chemistry" is more than valences and the Periodic Table.

Adjusting

It's been a bit more than two years since I walked purposely into a classroom with a lesson plan in my head (and in my plan book), eager to interact with my students. Leaving that life gave me the occasional twinge as I faced my new future. During these two years, I have learned that retirement requires "adjustments."

The adjustment most influencing my life has been coping with lack of people. For decades, I was surrounded by more than 2,000 students and peers five days a week in the hallways of various schools, with my attention concentrated on the 125-150 students in my individual classes each day. In recent years, those numbers remained the same, communication after school altered immensely as texting came into prominence. I would receive dozens of texts after (and occasionally during) school from current and former students asking for advice on assignments or “checking up” on me. Texting enabled me to give advice that enhanced homework and kept connections vibrant, and grades in good shape. Social networking also helped but not as much as texting, as, for me, it lacked immediacy.

In retirement those numbers have dwindled significantly. I communicate with about a dozen people each day. The texting has declined to the point I changed my data plan from unlimited to a finite number. Conversely, now that I have time, I am finding social networking intriguing and I have no excuse for not checking it daily. Though I cannot imagine myself as a Twitter user, I keep in touch with others more often, despite being almost repulsed by the apparent need of so many to share the minutiae of their lives with the electronic world. (I really, really do not care how many times you had to burp the baby!)

Adjusting to my new situation has made me consider the efficacy of “no man is an island.” Humanity’s need for society is obvious. My guess is this is what spurs people to volunteer. It caused me to find new people to populate my days - thus I relish my book club, knitting group and quilting meetings. 

I digress, Back to Task.

The second most notable adjustment has been food. I did not realize how much money I spent on fast food and dining out until I am not doing it any longer. I have the time to actually cook and create in my kitchen. I am loving re-discovering the art of food preparation. Mixing herbs and spices and eating what I’ve created is an adventure in itself. I am eating healthier, saving money and expanding my own taste buds. As well as nurturing an almost comatose interest in entertaining small groups for dinner parties. One new plan is to begin hosting luncheons, as more friends retire and have the mid-day hours open.

The third adjustment is that I STILL feel like a high school senior. I have my whole second life ahead of me and I have so many options, I cannot decide which to try first. It is irritating and exciting to open the newspaper each morning, scan the “neighborhood activities” section and find what I want to try that day.  When I retired, I would have antiquated that the wonder of it all would have worn off by now, no so. I look forward to the new people and activities and explorations that are the here of my days.

A corollary to that last adjustment is that I will urge every young person I know to cultivate a variety of hobbies as they mature, so when they retire they already have in place some activities that will anchor them as they begin a new phase of living.

Cotidie Revelations

Cotidie is a Latin word meaning “daily.” I responded to a challenge to "jot down one share-able thought" every day for 40 days, then reflect on what those thoughts suggested about me. The 40 days ended yesterday.

My initial response to my list is I am media-oriented with diverse interests. More contemplation is required as I delve into what this list suggests about me.

2/25... TBBT quote - "Two grown men walking around with a hobbit's dagger? Wouldn't we look foolish?" Why is that so wrong?

2/26... Houses are like children; they always need something.

2/27... "To look at a thing is quite different from seeing a thing." wrote Oscar Wilde.

2/28... Commercials and advertisements may offer a more accurate portrayal of our history and culture than could be found in in any book written, since are we not reflections of what we want and need.

3/1... "When your opponent's sittin' there holding all aces, there's only one thing left to do: Kick over the table." and "You look like the day they fixed the electricity at the death house." Robin and the 7 Hoods is a great film.

3/2... Do we really have any privacy anymore?

3/3... Is life a jigsaw puzzle or a crazy quilt? 

3/4... I wonder if the word "friend" has a really accurate definition?

3/5... Learning how to be retired is a new kind of stress.

3/6... Hollywood seems to be remaking old movies and television shows; is there no new talent?

3/7... I hate yard work, so why do I own almost 2 acres?

3/8... "The fluidity of memory" from the writers' commentary of Leverage "The Rashomon Job"

3/9... Quilting is like painting with fabric.

3/10... Today's closet is yesterday's attic.

3/11... "If you had to give up one modern-day convenience, what would it be?" Omaha Steaks' Conversation Card #28. I've been thinking about this for two days - still no definite answer.

3/12... I work harder when pushed by a time limit.

3/13... Who would want to be immortal? What a curse!

3/14... "I don't know if it's the truth, but I do know it's a fact." Love at Large (1990) Tom Berenger to Elizabeth Perkins

3/15... Green beer?! Still sounds too yucky to imbibe. Give me a Jameson's.

3/16... Retirement is like high school - lots of doors to open!

3/17... Who should get my wine glass collection when I die?

3/18... “She was pleased to have him come and never sorry to see him go.” Dorothy Parker

3/19... Who is today's Oscar Wilde?

3/20... To my utter astonishment Cowboys & Aliens is an entertaining, thought-provoking film.

3/21... I found my 1973 letter from H. Allen Smith, Part Owner of Texas!!!!

3/22... "When in doubt, floor it!" - Richard Dean Anderson to Johnny Carson

3/23... I cherish sunshine, azure skies fluffed with clouds moved by balmy breezes of sandy ocean-scented air.

3/24… We need another word that bridges the chasm between "friend" and "acquaintance." Buddy? Pal? Nope, still not quite right.

3/25... This time last year, I was tramping the red hills of Sedona!

3/26... The  Beach Boys need a musical in the vein of Mamma Mia!, Jersey Boys or Across the Universe.

3/27... Satisfaction is a new sink with a great faucet!

3/28... Poul Anderson's Xanth series is still delightfully piquant.

3/29... I seem really shallow to me; so many people really piss me off!

3/30...  Happiness is my house after the cleaning lady has been here...it smells wonderful!

3/31… We should be able to die with dignity, not be denied that privilege by laws and conventions requiring physicians to keep "alive" people who are rationale but no longer want to live with excruciating pain. That is not "living!" 

4/1... "'Happily ever after' is really just another way of saying 'new beginning.'" In Plain Sight 

4/2... I miss my sister Ellen.

4/3... The Earth moves through space at more than 18 miles per second. No wonder almost everyone is in a hurry.

4/4... I adore Scrabble! It makes me feel intelligent and stupid, simultaneously.

4/5... The brighter the flame burns, the faster the candle dies.