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Various / Sundry, OTP!
Dec. 11th, 2009 01:05 am1) Remember that vid I posted, of the guy who did a cover of "I don't want to live on the moon," from Sesame Street? He also composes his own work; he posted this, a couple of nights ago:
C) I made yet another post to Treasures of the Heart: Peace on Earth....
There's now one post up for each of the main, interrelated, topics I intended to focus on: a) the storytelling process, b) actual tales (especially versions people may not know already), and c) etymology, and deconstructing dictionary definitions. All I have to do is Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Hope I don't burn myself out in the first month, and then run out of things to say the rest of the year.
But that's why I started this thing (partly): to remind myself of all the different stories I do know, and to tell them before I forget, or lose the oportunity. And I shouldn't be surprised that December would be a story-heavy month -- the whole culture (at least in the northern hemisphere) is geared up to storytelling at this time of year.
II) Had a dream, last Saturday, and there was one scene that I am keeping hold of, for the next time I get hit with: "But do you ever walk in your dreams?"
No. This is what I dream about:
I had an appointment to get to. It was some sort of officially mandated thing -- psych. eval., or something. Only the medical center, wherever, looked like a posh restaurant/nightclub, and I had to drive my wheelchair up a long, circling, ramp that went aound the lobby (where patrons are enjoying cocktails), up to the office my meeting was in, on a second floor level.
Everything looks fine and dandy, until I'm half way up the ramp. Then it stops, in a sheer drop, about half-way up. There's a gap of about five or six feet, and then, a flight of steps leading to the second half. And while I'm stuck there, thinking: "WTF?" the medical center's receptionist comes down to berate me, telling me to hurry up, or I'll be penalized for being late to the meeting. I try to explain that I'm doing my best, but I can't get across. And she snaps back: "Well, what more do you want? We provided you with a ramp!"
Gotta hand it my amygdala: it sure knows how to bring the figurative snark to the party.
b) Saw a nifty documentary on PBS the other night, on the latest generation of scientists and artists working in oragami. And the idea occurred to me that someone could probably make a full-sized artificial Christmas/Yule tree using nothing but the pages of all the catalogs that come in the mail between October and December. At wouldn't that be the perfect Meta-cultural statement, FTW?
C) I made yet another post to Treasures of the Heart: Peace on Earth....
There's now one post up for each of the main, interrelated, topics I intended to focus on: a) the storytelling process, b) actual tales (especially versions people may not know already), and c) etymology, and deconstructing dictionary definitions. All I have to do is Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Hope I don't burn myself out in the first month, and then run out of things to say the rest of the year.
But that's why I started this thing (partly): to remind myself of all the different stories I do know, and to tell them before I forget, or lose the oportunity. And I shouldn't be surprised that December would be a story-heavy month -- the whole culture (at least in the northern hemisphere) is geared up to storytelling at this time of year.
II) Had a dream, last Saturday, and there was one scene that I am keeping hold of, for the next time I get hit with: "But do you ever walk in your dreams?"
No. This is what I dream about:
I had an appointment to get to. It was some sort of officially mandated thing -- psych. eval., or something. Only the medical center, wherever, looked like a posh restaurant/nightclub, and I had to drive my wheelchair up a long, circling, ramp that went aound the lobby (where patrons are enjoying cocktails), up to the office my meeting was in, on a second floor level.
Everything looks fine and dandy, until I'm half way up the ramp. Then it stops, in a sheer drop, about half-way up. There's a gap of about five or six feet, and then, a flight of steps leading to the second half. And while I'm stuck there, thinking: "WTF?" the medical center's receptionist comes down to berate me, telling me to hurry up, or I'll be penalized for being late to the meeting. I try to explain that I'm doing my best, but I can't get across. And she snaps back: "Well, what more do you want? We provided you with a ramp!"
Gotta hand it my amygdala: it sure knows how to bring the figurative snark to the party.
b) Saw a nifty documentary on PBS the other night, on the latest generation of scientists and artists working in oragami. And the idea occurred to me that someone could probably make a full-sized artificial Christmas/Yule tree using nothing but the pages of all the catalogs that come in the mail between October and December. At wouldn't that be the perfect Meta-cultural statement, FTW?
