The Changing Face of America - Photo Gallery
Just heard this program on Morning Edition, NPR, Monday, Nov 11, 2013. I wanted to read the article which the program indicated would be free and on-line. I tried to register and found out my space (city, state, country) was not a valid location. Maybe I experienced a space-time warp while I was sleeping last night. I wrote to National Geographic and will blog their answer which should come in two days. It may take longer or shorter due to my new space-time.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Dream
I woke up around 5am this morning and went back to sleep. Just before waking at around 7am I had this vivid dream that I remember. Usually I don't remember dreams.
I am viewing a political event where the main politician isbelow on the grass looking up at a kind of rounded balcony. I am up to the side looking down. My vision zooms in on his head again and again. Soon more heads appear in a semi circle below the balcony. At first I think they were the same person. My vision keeps zooming in on faces, sometimes individually, sometimes just one face. I began to see that they are similar faces, but not the same, like brothers. The heads are actively engaged in some activity, maybe a political rally.
Suddenly the scene changes to snow and mountains. Someone, maybe a man, is on skis and makes a elegant turn in the snow and exits the scene. A woman on skis attempts the same turn, but does it badly She looses out control, but does not fall. I'm viewing the scene on a level with the action, but floating in the air looking at the side of the mountain.
Sudden scene change and the same woman is driving a box-like wagon, maybe horse drawn, but I don't see the horses, just the reigns. I'm looking up at the wagon which seems larger and higher than life.
In a stressed voice the woman says that the child is dead. Even if the child is never seen, I know that the child is inside the wagon. This makes me stressed. She says that everything inside the wagon is dead.
Either she reaches inside the wagon and throws down a box, or a box is projected out of the wagon which I seem to catch, but then it's also too large for me to catch. It ends up on the ground.
I'm surprised to see that it's a box of carrots. I think that the carrots look like fresh carrots, but the women, or an abstract source tells me that the carrots are dying. I feel very stressed about the contrast between what I see as fresh alive carrots, and the opinion that the carrots are dying and becoming dead.
I wake.
I remember the dream vividly. I have an emotional connection to the many politicians' heads and wonder about their similarity. I worry about the stressed woman. I remember the bright orange color of the carrots. I wonder why they are considered to be dying, and why I see them as being so alive. And why carrots?
I am viewing a political event where the main politician isbelow on the grass looking up at a kind of rounded balcony. I am up to the side looking down. My vision zooms in on his head again and again. Soon more heads appear in a semi circle below the balcony. At first I think they were the same person. My vision keeps zooming in on faces, sometimes individually, sometimes just one face. I began to see that they are similar faces, but not the same, like brothers. The heads are actively engaged in some activity, maybe a political rally.
Suddenly the scene changes to snow and mountains. Someone, maybe a man, is on skis and makes a elegant turn in the snow and exits the scene. A woman on skis attempts the same turn, but does it badly She looses out control, but does not fall. I'm viewing the scene on a level with the action, but floating in the air looking at the side of the mountain.
Sudden scene change and the same woman is driving a box-like wagon, maybe horse drawn, but I don't see the horses, just the reigns. I'm looking up at the wagon which seems larger and higher than life.
In a stressed voice the woman says that the child is dead. Even if the child is never seen, I know that the child is inside the wagon. This makes me stressed. She says that everything inside the wagon is dead.
Either she reaches inside the wagon and throws down a box, or a box is projected out of the wagon which I seem to catch, but then it's also too large for me to catch. It ends up on the ground.
I'm surprised to see that it's a box of carrots. I think that the carrots look like fresh carrots, but the women, or an abstract source tells me that the carrots are dying. I feel very stressed about the contrast between what I see as fresh alive carrots, and the opinion that the carrots are dying and becoming dead.
I wake.
I remember the dream vividly. I have an emotional connection to the many politicians' heads and wonder about their similarity. I worry about the stressed woman. I remember the bright orange color of the carrots. I wonder why they are considered to be dying, and why I see them as being so alive. And why carrots?
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Without DSL and Other Things
The Issan noodle restaurant in Hollyweird sounds great; after school ends I'm in.
No, I did not give away the cello. I need it for a concert that I play next week.
How is Lisa doing?
I'm now without DSL at home. This is my first day without and I feel like I'm going though withdrawal and drug recovery. Ultimately, it may be good for cello practice.
I listened with sympathy for all the teachers that I know when I heard student cheering about the announcement by LAUSD that there will be no more suspensions for "intentional" disruption. When I was in the trenches in East LA some students told me that three or four of them would plot to disrupt certain classes. It only takes three or four.
Visited the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Power Station last Friday.
This Friday, today, the person who designed the animation at the beginning of Desperate Housewives, branded Pink Berry from the time it started as a crummy one-store operation, rebranded Hussler sex toys, rebranded the TBS "smile" logo, and now is starting a new essence company gave a talk at Creative Mornings. She is this little Asian-American who looks and acts like a teen. Amazing! All this happened because, fresh out of design school, she refused to accept her first boring, 9-to-5 design job, quit after two weeks and moved on. Impressive "moving on."
Much other news. We'll talk in Hollywierd.
No, I did not give away the cello. I need it for a concert that I play next week.
How is Lisa doing?
I'm now without DSL at home. This is my first day without and I feel like I'm going though withdrawal and drug recovery. Ultimately, it may be good for cello practice.
I listened with sympathy for all the teachers that I know when I heard student cheering about the announcement by LAUSD that there will be no more suspensions for "intentional" disruption. When I was in the trenches in East LA some students told me that three or four of them would plot to disrupt certain classes. It only takes three or four.
Visited the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Power Station last Friday.
This Friday, today, the person who designed the animation at the beginning of Desperate Housewives, branded Pink Berry from the time it started as a crummy one-store operation, rebranded Hussler sex toys, rebranded the TBS "smile" logo, and now is starting a new essence company gave a talk at Creative Mornings. She is this little Asian-American who looks and acts like a teen. Amazing! All this happened because, fresh out of design school, she refused to accept her first boring, 9-to-5 design job, quit after two weeks and moved on. Impressive "moving on."
Much other news. We'll talk in Hollywierd.
The Presbyterian manse
Reading Doonsbury today, Doonesbury 6-13-2013
I had to look up the word, "manse."
I had to look up the word, "manse."
Manse/ mans noun
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How Money is Made
Gee! Today how lucky I am. For just $20 I have the opportunity to buy a non-transferable ticket to hear two over paid ding-a-lings talk about "How Champions Are Made." What a thrill; I even have a personal registration code. It's all part of the UCLA "On the Road" project held on June 11th at the Rose Bowl.
I'm so excited to be able to see a real live locker room.....Maybe I can smell it too?
With middle high school students engaging in a myriad of special activities in order to boost their chances to attend a quality university, with college students accumulating enormous collective debt, you would think UCLA might put on an STEM show.....or maybe a steAm show.
But then the "Yahoo" alumni with deep pockets wouldn't attend.
I'm so excited to be able to see a real live locker room.....Maybe I can smell it too?
With middle high school students engaging in a myriad of special activities in order to boost their chances to attend a quality university, with college students accumulating enormous collective debt, you would think UCLA might put on an STEM show.....or maybe a steAm show.
But then the "Yahoo" alumni with deep pockets wouldn't attend.
IVANPAH
Dear C.
Thanks for the heads up about Ivanpah. Impressive, but....
I visited their page and watched two videos. The first about construction reminded me of a brief comment on NPR where they mentioned some organization (and I missed the name!) which promotes the concept that "art is indispensable." Ivanpah's first video proves the point. Great project; terrible video badly in need of an artful film maker.
The second video proves the intelligence of former President Clinton. He jokes about the highly tattooed multicultural work force who gained jobs working on the project. He follows up saying that they really GET what green culture is about. Then, he ends with (I may have missed the exact wording), "If you win the tattoo vote you'll have the damnedest environmental policy in the county you ever saw."
What a brilliant communicator.
More for Ivanpah. If I were CEO of a major innovative, green company how about inviting people to learn about it in a creative, Clintonesque way. Maybe a simple sign reading:
ivanpahsolar.com --->
rw
Thanks for the heads up about Ivanpah. Impressive, but....
I visited their page and watched two videos. The first about construction reminded me of a brief comment on NPR where they mentioned some organization (and I missed the name!) which promotes the concept that "art is indispensable." Ivanpah's first video proves the point. Great project; terrible video badly in need of an artful film maker.
The second video proves the intelligence of former President Clinton. He jokes about the highly tattooed multicultural work force who gained jobs working on the project. He follows up saying that they really GET what green culture is about. Then, he ends with (I may have missed the exact wording), "If you win the tattoo vote you'll have the damnedest environmental policy in the county you ever saw."
What a brilliant communicator.
More for Ivanpah. If I were CEO of a major innovative, green company how about inviting people to learn about it in a creative, Clintonesque way. Maybe a simple sign reading:
ivanpahsolar.com --->
rw
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Writing Under The Influence Of Music
Writing Under the Influence (of Music)
An experimental workshop lead by Dr. Mira Mataric
6:00 - 8:00 pm Tuesday April 23, 2013
Altadena Library, Altadena, CA
Music 1: Disney, Oz, Ballet
Disney nostalgia may corrupt absolutely. It can creep with its precious Bambi feet, unseen, over felt, overstuffed to silently suffocate. Promising a perfect existence, a magical place, a safe haven with calculated lies fostered by Burbank's bloated visionaries.
Even the orchestra sounds speak the unreal--hollow bass clarinet, sparkling celesta, quivering solo violin, thrilling harp--calculated to destroy thought. Soaked and choked with emotion, what chance clarity?
Leaving Disney and Oz we dance. But, it's still unreal. A place at home almost 200 years ago. But, what's wrong with that? Appreciating old treasures may be good. But, this greedy legacy pushes most new dance aside. Go on. Perform the Nutcracker till you regurgitate; starve the rest of the year.
Interlude:
First we were shoved into new spaces; the writing/music world. Uncomfortable brains complained. We move readily to a more comfortable writing/talk world. Our subconscious mind at work. It's safer here. Again,we move maybe even further from talk-about-writing to one-person-talking-about-writing.
Before artists didn't tell how they did things.
Today, we expect artists to tell us how they do it.
Thirty people write for half an hour.
Thirty writings emerge, so distinct, so different
We write; we read; we talk.
We're told it should not be so
Homoginized is legal
But the mind is a criminal
And the genome won't tell us how or why
It's down deep
It's up to you to pull it out
Surprise, surprise.
From nothing a flow
The river finds it's way
Push the block asside
Just write anyway
Music 2: Mendelssohn, Violin Concerto
Rare fragile sparkle; carbon fiber core
Answer stomping elephants
Wagner hated it so; hated you so.
Spawn of low life; it and you
Those predictable too-many notes
"Too many notes my dear Mozart."
An experimental workshop lead by Dr. Mira Mataric
6:00 - 8:00 pm Tuesday April 23, 2013
Altadena Library, Altadena, CA
Music 1: Disney, Oz, Ballet
Disney nostalgia may corrupt absolutely. It can creep with its precious Bambi feet, unseen, over felt, overstuffed to silently suffocate. Promising a perfect existence, a magical place, a safe haven with calculated lies fostered by Burbank's bloated visionaries.
Even the orchestra sounds speak the unreal--hollow bass clarinet, sparkling celesta, quivering solo violin, thrilling harp--calculated to destroy thought. Soaked and choked with emotion, what chance clarity?
Leaving Disney and Oz we dance. But, it's still unreal. A place at home almost 200 years ago. But, what's wrong with that? Appreciating old treasures may be good. But, this greedy legacy pushes most new dance aside. Go on. Perform the Nutcracker till you regurgitate; starve the rest of the year.
Interlude:
First we were shoved into new spaces; the writing/music world. Uncomfortable brains complained. We move readily to a more comfortable writing/talk world. Our subconscious mind at work. It's safer here. Again,we move maybe even further from talk-about-writing to one-person-talking-about-writing.
Before artists didn't tell how they did things.
Today, we expect artists to tell us how they do it.
Thirty people write for half an hour.
Thirty writings emerge, so distinct, so different
We write; we read; we talk.
We're told it should not be so
Homoginized is legal
But the mind is a criminal
And the genome won't tell us how or why
It's down deep
It's up to you to pull it out
Surprise, surprise.
From nothing a flow
The river finds it's way
Push the block asside
Just write anyway
Music 2: Mendelssohn, Violin Concerto
Rare fragile sparkle; carbon fiber core
Answer stomping elephants
Wagner hated it so; hated you so.
Spawn of low life; it and you
Those predictable too-many notes
"Too many notes my dear Mozart."
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