Dichroic Reflections

As bloggers go, I am a very small fish – I hardly ever get much attention, rarely more than a couple of comments per post. In general I don’t mind; it means that people respond when they’re been really interested in or touched by something I’ve said and not to just join a pile-on, and if I say something people don’t agree with they tend to ignore me or even better to disagree thoughtfully and not just to jump in and start pouring acid. I like thoughtful disagreement. I’m wrong a lot and I’d like to be wrong less. Further, even if I’m right (or if it’s a subjective thing where no one is right or wrong) it’s good to understand why people disagree.

But sometimes it’s nice to get more feedback either for validation (I’d say I’m an attention whore but I don’t like the ‘whore’ part of that – I like attention but I won’t do *anything* for it) or because I could use advice. Also, getting less feedback means I appreciate the comments I do get a lot! (On the LJ or DW reflections, I answer comments because commenters get notified. On the independent riseagain.net page I usually don’t because I don’t expect people to come back to read answers – but if something needs an answer I usually reply via email, except to trolls.)

This is one of the latter times. I’ve been making more things again. Maybe I’m just not creative when it’s hot out, but I’m knitting more lately and I’ve written a few poems for the first time in a while and even submitted one. One problem I have with that is that I know a lot of the venues for fantasy and SF poems, but could use suggestions for where to send stuff with more general themes. (Note: I had a few in Every Day Poems, but they’re off limits now because I read slush there.) My poems tend to vary a lot: rhyming, not rhyming, formal, freeform. They are generally shorter rather than longer (say, mostly under 50 lines) but not twitterpoems. Ideas?

Virtual kisses and bonus points if you’ve read my stuff and know of a venue where you think it would fit well.

Also, I’ve been knitting more. Now that the Wombat Blanket is done, I’ve fixed a few issues with the pattern (the border instructions weren’t right) and you can download it from Ravelry or here. Most of my knitting in the next couple of months will be on the complicated sweater for Ted, half a remaining baby sock and a pair of child socks for said baby’s big sister. But it would be nice to start thinking about a new pattern for whenever I do have spare knitting time. (Desite having yarn and vague plans for at least two more (simpler) sweaters.) So what should I invent?

I could make a simple sweater (don’t have the fitting skills for a complex one), though a smaller project would be nicer. Socks? A wrap? something for the house? Again, ideas welcome.

All of the patterns I’ve created so far are at Ravelry or on my home blog page in the left sidebar.

I think I finally have this layering thing more or less down. Because it’s been cool either inside my office or outside, most of my recent outfits have involved a minimum of three pieces (not including shoes, socks, or underwear). What has been difficult is to keep wearing summer clothing when it’s dreary out, but I think I give up on that. After all, I’ve spent all but one of the last fifteen years in climates where summer lasts well into October; this year I can wear fall clothes and by golly I’m gonna.

Because apparely nothing says autumn to me like leather and/or wool, my favorite recent outfits were two variants I wore last week. Pattern seems to be a big help in piling layers together and keeping them coordinated. My maroon gabardine sheath dress is always a bit difficult to plan as part of any outfit more complex than ‘dress, tights, shoes’, but it worked very well over buff tights and under a flowered cardigan in ivory with flowers in reds and blues with green leaves. I wore brown mary-jane pumps below all that. On top of that I had a dark red scarf and espresso leather blazer, though sadly I had to take those off indoors. I liked the evening version of the outfit even better – I traded the dress and tights for a T-shirt in a dusty dark red over olive drab cargos. Espresso boots would have been perfect under the cargos but it was too hot, so I wore penny loafers.

And today I am wearing a vest I knit – as far as I’m concerned, any outfit that incorporates something I made myself is a good outfit. The vest is green and I’have it over khaki-colored jeans and a light taupe jersey top.

All of the outfits I can remember for the past couple of weeks have had 3-5 pieces instead of a basic top and bottom, and I think most of them looked reasonably good on me. I feel like I should get a gold star or something. Layrered with silver, perhaps.

Also, last Friday I bought the fall jacket I’ve been waiting for fall to get – it’s basically a simplified version of a short trench – all of those flaps and buckles and buttons on a real trench look like a bit too much detail on me. This one is short enough to cycle in (a little above my knees), has a belt for shape, a wide collar, and a covered placket up the front. It’s in a cafe au lait color that’s a lot better on me than beige. But the funny thing is, it was half price because it was left over from the summer line. It feels sort of odd to be living in a place that sells special jackets just for summer!

Oursin asks, “Is it better to have massive ambitions, and fail, or to have modest aims, and succeed?”

My answer to that is enough of a “this, I believe” statement that I’m copying it here.

In my opinion, it is better to have massive ambitions, and to break down the steps to achieve them into small and realistic ones. That way even if you don’t get all the way to the Promised Land, you can at least tell if you’ve gotten 30% of the way through the desert.

Corollaries:
1. I’ve climbed a lot of mountains. The most encouraging thing I know, when you’ve beein going for hours and you’re tired and you’ve just found that you’re coming up on a false peak and there’s still a lot farther to go, is to look back and see how far you’ve come.

2. I suppose it’s also worthwhile to look at the actual stories of the Hero’s Journey (Moses and the Israelites *didn’t* go straight through that not-very-big desert; neither did Odysseus go straight home) and realize how often there was a lot of wandering in circles going on, and how sometimes those circles gave you what you need to progress.

3. One of my most favorite quotes ever: “You are not expected to complete the work, but neither may you refrian from beginning it” attributed to Rabbi Tarfon, in the Pirkei Avot.

4. This has been coming up for me a lot lately in assorted discussions. Just because someone was flawed does not invalidate the work they did (even when the flaws are built into the work itself). On the other hand, just because the work they did is important (to you personally or to society as a whole) does not mean they are not flawed or that the flaws can’t be discussed. The flaws may mean, once you understand them, that the work is not as great as you once thought. Or not.

Concrete examples: I can’t read Heinlein or Sayers without being bothered a bit by the racism / sexism / antiSemitism in there, but I do still read them. On the other hand I think the Declaration of Independence is as brilliant as I ever thought it was, no matter flawed jefferson himself was.

I should achieve Tedness any second now. Well, any time in the next hour and a half, depending on time to pick up suitcase, get car, and drive from Amsterdam. Unfortunately, from conversations over the last few days it sounds like he’s coming down with something, which may preclude snuggling (and which won’t have contributed to a minimally-unpleasant flight, poor guy).

ETA: Well, any hour now. He called from A’dam to warn me the plane arrived late.

A couple of weeks ago, M’ris wrote about the new fad for carrot pants, and how they were not flattering to any known adult female.

I’m afraid we now have the answer to who would be gullible enough to buy carrot pants: me.

Should have known. After years of reading M’ris, I’ve come to the conclusion that we are built so differently, despite being similar sizes (well, before I put on weight in Taiwan) that what is horrible on me is good on her and vice versa. (I’m less sure about the vice versa, but I’ve certainly seen photos of her looking stunning in outfits I couldn’t wear.) So maybe it’s not too surprising that the carrot pants pretty good on me. (That’s an average value – they looked great from the front, OK from the side, and pretty good from the back. I do not put excess weight on in my hips or ass, at least not in any early stages of weight gain. I do put it in my belly. Further, I have Giant Rower Thighs ™ which are made even more Giant by biking. I like them, because they are muscular and curve nicely, but there’s no denying they can be hard to clothe in trousers. These pants are fairly voluminous, and made of a very soft microcorduroy so the pleats aren’t too stiff. They come up high, which makes my waist look even shorter but makes my legs look nice and long, and the leg tapers to the ankle, where they scrunch up a bit because they’re just a hair long. That tapering line provides plenty of room for the Rower Thighs, and gives a nice long line to my leg. I suspect the higher rise would make my waist look tiny, except that, y’know, it so clearly isn’t. I picked them up because they were so soft and because I liked something about the scrunched ankle, don’t ask me why (the cuffs were folded up on the rack), and brought them home partly because I think they do look pretty good, and partly because they are work-appropriate pants that feel like sweatpants, and that’s a powerful inducement.

My little local grocery was crowded this evening, when I went to try to prepare for Ted’s visit. Last week was orientation for the foreign students at the local university, and now the Dutch students are trickling back. The store itself wasn’t too badly crowded, but the lines at the register were some of the longest I’ve seen. This store, only a block from the train station, seems to be aimed mostly at people stoping by for that night’s dinner, on the way home from work. Most people buy fairly small quantities on a trip there, even by Dutch standards. Since re-organizing last month, they have it set up so that if you use a cart you pay in one particular line, while if you use one of their new nifty baskets (that have wheels! and can be pulled or pushed around the store like a toddler toy) you can go to any line. It’s nice because now you just put the basket there and the cashier checks items directly out of it – they used to insist on you unloading baskets onto the belt.

The lines stretched back into the aisles; most people waiting were about 20 years old, and of varying nationalities. The couple behind me were speaking Mandarin. Then an old lady came with a cart, and tried to wedge her way into our line. Our cashier told her she’d need to stand in the cart line, and the old lady complained because the line was too long. Well, yeah, with other people waiting for their food! Then another register opened just past ours. New cashier also told her to stand in the other line, and the old lady complained again. The cashier gave in and rang her her three items.

And I was left thinking, “Congratulations, you old bitch. Lucky for me I know that most Dutch people aren’t like you, but you just taught a store-ful of young foreigners that the Dutch are rude, self-absorbed, and possibly somewhat racist. Good going.”

When I got home today, at the risk of being late for rowing, I did something I should have done long ago: I went digging in my files and found that I did bring the file of Cool Stuff and accolades I used to keep at work, from back in the day when, if you encountered Cool Stuff it was likely to be on paper. And so, from an interview she did with the Houston Press back in 1993, I am able to bring you what is, in my opinion, the best thing Molly Ivins ever said. If you have the proper appreciation for Ivins, you will understand the import of that statement. (People who have close personal experience with fire-ants will also appreciate the following). I’ve often wished I’d put it somewhere on line to have it handy – and now you do too. (That’s where the thanks come in.)

The Supreme Court said that the First Amendment protects hateful, despicable and harmful speech, What you do about it is, you speak right back. I need the First Amendment to be able to say to people who say what I don’t agree with, “Look, you jack-legged-pissant-yellow-belly-son-of-a-bitch, you run on all fours, you molest small children, you have the mind of an adolescent fire ant.” I need to shut then up; I need to be able to answer them back. That’s what this whole fuss is about.”

That’s one of my favorite quotes ever.
My favorite quote just from today, though, is this, about Dr. Laura’s decision to quit radio on the basis that she was being denied her First Amendment rights: “But we’re impinging on her right to spout racist crapola on the radio, with our…disapproving looks! And occasional remarks! Some people might even elect not to listen to her program — and she can’t have that!.”

It’s really, really fun to imagine what might have happened if Dr. Laura met Molly Ivins.

First, a question: I just had a poem rejected, with what looks like the standard polite “Please keep us in mind in future” reject email. But below that was this PS: “PS. Sorry, but there were other poems I liked more. Please keep [venue] in mind for future works. ”

I’m thinking that means, “We liked this and thought it was good enough, but it got aced out because we have even better poems on hand.” What do y’all think? I guess it doesn’t really matter, because either way the message is, “send us better stuff next time” but I’m curious.

It was great to have a flying visit from Rebecca – she’s the first visitor I’ve had in this apartment and the first I’ve had at all since Ted’s parents visited over Christmas of 2008, so that was exciting. I was really excited for this visit, because I knew there were so many things she’d love here, especially all the bikes and the infrastructure that makes it so easy to live here without a car. I regret that the two days she was able to come were Sunday and Monday – I’d have loved to take her to the Woensel Markt (Saturday) or knitting group (Wednesday), because she’d have enjoyed those. But we did get to go rowing in a coxed quad on Sunday afternoon! Her train came in at 9:20 AM, so we had plenty of time to hang out before rowing – we walked around town, went to the art museum cafe for tea aand tarts because the bagel place didn’t open until noon (they’re not entirely clear on the concept of bagels as breakfast food here). Then we went back for bagels, then over to the Philips Electric Light in Art museum where they were having an exhibit by a Chinese artist, Ji Liu. He had three pieces on display: a bed lit from above by hundreds of red lasers that looked like silk threads when shown off by puffs of smoke; a ‘cage’ made of green lasers that entirely made us feel like characters from The Matrix, walking through something that seemed so solid; and a blue-lit plexiglass model with holes in its many layers that looked like an encased skeleton from a few feet away.

After that we vegetated for an hour or so, then went rowing, so now Rebecca’s gotten to try “rowing in a Dutch ditch”, as our cox said. (Much of it is a very pretty ditch.) We got rained on the entire time, but since she grew up and learned to row in Seattle I think it made her feel at home. Fortunately it wasn’t too cold out, though we were chilled enough to appreciate hot showers by the time we got back to the apartment. Once showered and changed we went out for Italian food – I guess I could have cooked for her, but I was enjoying having someone to eat out and share wine with.

On Monday morning after breakfast, I worked from home while she took my bike and rode to Helmond, about 36 km. (No doubt my bike was shocked – it’s never gone more than 10 km or so at a time.) This time she only got a bit of drizzle, just enough to feel like echte Nederlands weer (real Dutch weather) And I got to take advantage of being home, and of the cool weather, by starting a pot of chili. When she got back, I fed her stroopwafels, showed her our photos from South Africa, and then it was time to go to the train station. It was too short a visit and I think she spent nearly as much time on the train as here, but it was really good to get to hang out with an old friend and talk rowing, knitting, ants (her field of study), Arizona, travel, and mutual friends. I’m a bit hoarse now

Funny: when I waved her off at the train station, it felt so different – all I felt was “Well, that was fun! Glad she was here and I hope she has a good trip back”. Last time I waved someone off at the station was when Ted left from the same platform and I knew I wouldn’t see him for a couple of months. Much sadder. I suppose it’s just because I expect to see Rebecca now and then, whereas it’s all wrong when Ted’s not here.

I was actually pretty happy to have any decent row at all, since I first biked there the 8.5 km from work, but in fact this was an especially pleasant row, though not too long. (These facts are quite possibly related.) M and I were out in singles, with one of the better coaches I’ve worked with giving us feedback, working with one of us at a time so we have time to work on stuff she told us. It rained on us a bit, but there was very little wind and it was warm enough not to mind the rain. Since it’s on a canal, we just row out and then back. We got rained on a bit today So there I was, just starting on the second half with the light beginning to turn golden, figuring out something about the way my feet felt that told me my back position was right, and I thought to myself, “You know, it really doesn’t get much better than this.”

That was before the double rainbow showed up, and the hot-air balloon in the other direction.

Total for today: about 18 km cycled (6.5 to work, 8.5 to boathouse, 3 home), 8 km rowed.

I have to say, though, I think it left me more tired than I realized. When I changed after rowing, I put my jewelry back on as being the safest way to carry it. Somehow I managed to put my watch on without even noticing that I was still wearing my sports watch. Yes, on the same wrist. In my defense, I was wearing a jacket whose sleeve covered the sports watch. However, I took off that jacket when I got home and managed to cook dinner, check email while my pasta was boiling, and eat before I ever noticed that I was wearing two watches at once. I should probably be going to bed now.

I’ve seen lots of discussions on these lines about fiction, but who are some of the best poets of color writing today in English?

(Note: I was going to say that you can skip mentioning some of the excellent poets who are already on my LJ friendslist, but on second thought I won’t – it might be helpful for other people to have a list that doesn’t omit them.)

One thing that sparked this is the realization that I could especially use some examples of people who write in nonstandard English (where by “standard” I am mostly talking about American Newscaster Midwest, and English RP). When I’m critiquing or reading slush, I think I can *see* the difference between something that is full of mistakes, vs. someone writing in an authentic voice that just doesn’t spell or punctuate the way I’m used to (consistency is one marker). But it can be hard to explain the difference to someone else and I’d like to have some examples, and I’d like something a bit more contemporary than the likes of Gwendolyn Brooks or Rabbie Burns, much as I like them (not implying that Burns was a PoC! Then again, I guess it depended how you viewed Scots at the time).

But mostly I just want recommendations for myself, to read.