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I don't hop on my personal Twitter accounts regularly anymore (professionally ScienceTwitter is still a thing, but the students are more visible on Instagram, and I'm working out systems to post more frequently on and direct more traffic to the department website), but I peeked in this morning, when Paisley Rekdal posted on what makes a sonnet a sonnet. Tl;dr: it's the volta...



The discussion naturally brought forward other sonnets, among them Sam Cha's Motherfuckers talking shit about American sonnets.

story a-sprawling / cake baked and frosted )

ETA: today's rabbit hole - discovering how the pinyin for "u" with the third tone will appear with the caron to the right of the u regardless of copy-pasting versions of it with the caron directly over the u, typing in unicodes, etc. Ah, typesetting/coding. And it's good to be reminded that the u+haček in Baltic/Slavic languages is a different critter. This entry was originally posted at https://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/185494.html.
pondhop: white jointed mannequin in glass door (Default)
happy doggie

Normally, snapping an out-of-focus pic on my phone would merely mean a moment of mild annoyance on my part, but I kind of like this one -- it has the haze of some contemporary paintings that I like. Plus, it reminds me of seeing the plump little pup splashing happily in the kiddie pool in front of Baxter & Bailey -- that, really, was my favorite moment of my neighborhood's Tomato Fest: the generosity of the shop owner in setting up the pool (and the sign encouraging doggies to cool out in it) and the happiness of the dog and its owners as they paused there.

It was crazy hot all that day, but sunny, for which I was grateful, in part because I walked across the 'hood to meet a friend and later again to go to class but also because it meant our basement would get a chance to dry out. I was a little jittery during the storms on Thursday and Friday. We didn't get hit hard at all (there are people in Madison who lost homes and business-space to this latest round of flooding), but I come from a line of champion worrywarts, so it takes a conscious effort to dial down the disaster-lurking-in-every-drop circuits. (Last week's discovery: the sound of a running fan can sound like heavy rain to me.)

I've been clipping possum schmutz out of Abby's fur. I joked to a friend that dogs really do get away with murder.

A fine, fertile keyword popped into my head during yoga Friday or Saturday afternoon -- that is, a word I immediately recognized as a ripe, romp-around-the-yard-with word for a project due next month -- and, of course, it has since faded into the soup of other not-yet-written words-waiting-to-be-coaxed-into-flesh swamping the back burners of my mind. (How's that for trying too hard? *wry grin*) Anyway, I suspect it'll come back to me -- and in the meantime, I shall use it as motivation to get myself back to class, since I think it had something to do with what I was asking my body to do, so perhaps re-exercising muscle memory will jog the clog out of the conscious kind.

This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/59154.html.
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I was a little apprehensive about going to the Chef and I in Nashville's Lenox Village last week. When I bought the Living Social voucher, the word "interactive" hadn't leapt out at me the way it did when I went to the website for more details, and I can get pretty sullen and surly if I'm feeling badgered into more interactivity than I'm in the mood to provide.

But it turned out to be a nice evening, even after I realized I'd totally gotten wrong which Lenox-something the restaurant was located around. (Note to self: do not buy anything via LS before the second cup of coffee. Ever.) The place is more mellow than its website -- I had a lovely sparkling wine (from Cielo winery) with lobster bisque, and halibut with various vegetables. The chef chatted briefly with me about the amuse-gueule (leftover coffee-crusted turkey, brie, and a sliver of scallion), tools for flipping fish, and the economics of serving lamb, but I was mostly left alone to enjoy my food, my notebook, and book in peace, and the room was large enough for the large birthday party behind me to be amusing rather than annoying.

The Chef and I
"Thanksgiving in a bite"

(More cell-phone snapshots here)

Other recent eats:
* fried calamari at the Bosco's in Cool Springs, with iced tea
* buffalo cauliflower at Tavern, with a pint of Left Hand Milk Stout and a pint of Mayday Boro Blonde. And they serve cucumber sticks instead of celery. Rawk!
* chicken, stuffing, corn on the cob, and other sides, prepared by Jase. Happiness is comparing Music City Tent & Events warehouse sale acquisitions (*) while sipping a good pinot noir. :D

(* Jase is a party planner. I used to coordinate events for a cathedral. I don't plan to execute anything ambitious in the near future [at least in that vein], but I did leave the sale with what I'd gone for [5 champagne flutes] and then some [4 martini glasses].)

On the writing front: 2 outright rejections, 4 rejections-by-inference, 2 made-it-through-another-round, and 1 stern-talking-to to stop myself from taking on a new and intriguing but poorly remunerative assignment that would tick me off if I actually let it nibble into the time I already can't spare for [lower 4/5 of Workflowy list]. (But because I am a dreamer, it's nonetheless tucked into that bottom 5th. It'll save me from making the same notes again the next time my magpie brain darts in that direction...)

In the meantime, an item in the top 1/5 is to get enough sleep. So it's off to bed, undrafted [x] and unpasted [y] and unstitched [z] notwithstanding.

This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/58653.html.
pondhop: white jointed mannequin in glass door (Default)
The author of Life of Pi is speaking in Nashville this Saturday, so there's a feature on him by Fernanda Moore at Chapter 16 that was reprinted in Monday's City Paper. I was struck by this exchange on criticism:


Chapter 16: Every artist must find a way to cope with critical opinion, but you have encountered an unusually huge range of reactions--reviews which are absolutely transcendent, as well as reviews that are scathing. How do you account for the extremes of opinion that your work seems to inspire?

Yann Martel: I mostly ignore critical opinion, good and bad. Art is a gift, the making of it, the receiving of it. So, like every artist, I create and then I give. What the world does with my gift--raise it up high or cast it down--is not my affair. For example, Beatrice and Virgil received an awful review from The New York Times' Michiko Kakutani. She positively hated the novel, as did the reviewers for The Washington Post and the San Francisco Chronicle

And also:

Any work of art is a co-creation between the artist and the reader/viewer/spectator. My interpretation of Pi is just one reading among many possible readings, and it should not have any more weight because I'm its author. Having said that, I don't see the point in making less of life. It’s short enough as it is, so why not see more in it? Why not make leaps of faith?


This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/41832.html.

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