Showing posts with label delusions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label delusions. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Grading.

Or, procrastinating?

Last night at the Sufjan Stevens concert, I persisted in believing that I would get up so early! this morning to read midterms. Also, I believed somehow that we might be home at around 10:30 p.m., from a concert that began at 8.

On the way home from the concert:
Me: I think it's hilarious how, after all this time, I still chronically underestimate how much time things actually take.

The historian: Like what?

Me: Like, I thought we might get home from the concert by about 10:30.

Historian: (snickers)
An actual snicker, the people.

Anyway, the Sufjan Stevens concert was amazing. Epic. I wouldn't say that SS's every aesthetic decision was perfect. But I would say that I felt at almost every turn that I was witnessing an artist--not "artist" the way people talk about a pop star as "the artist," but "artist" as in, a person who's making art. The whole thing was immersive--textured and layered with sound, visuals, movement, joy. I could discern antecedents (the Talking Heads of the Stop Making Sense era) and peers (the chameleonic, ever-inventive Beck), but no exact equivalents, and it really was pretty intense--revelatory--to be there.

I also loved that pretty much the whole show was new music, and most of it from the more bracing The Age of Adz rather than the prettier All Delighted People EP--bold, not at all ingratiating. I had previous listened to this music, or at least some of it--it was kind of great to experience it, really, for something like the first time in this way. The music that wasn't from The Age of Adz--"Seven Swans" from Seven Swans, and a four-song set from Illinois ("Chicago," "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois," "Decatur," and "John Wayne Gacy, Jr.") that concluded the show were a kind of gift--but I felt that the new material really put these songs in a bigger picture--they're great songs, without doubt, but they're not the best SS will ever do.

Well! having thus discharged my responsibility with regard to the review of the concert, and having confessed how yet again I have lied to myself about getting up early, the duration of things, and how much I will realistically accomplish on any given morning, I must do something: read some midterms? grade some online discussions? record a video response to a class discussion? go home and nurse this little cold that is now stalking me? Who can say?

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

August is the cruelest month.

I counted: fifteen days till I have to show up at work. This means that I'm already nostalgic for summer and it's not over yet, a state which I believe philosophers have written about, which nonetheless does not mitigate how much it sucks. However: at least it's a summer worth being wistful about.

1. the Scotland contingent came over for an extended visit, which resulted in this and this and this.
2. my daughter, the make-up artist, had a baby, and during her maternity leave I got to visit frequently and hold the baby in her quiet sleeping house.
3. we went to the Idaho cabin where we observed the beautiful river and the mercurial skies.
4. the historian and I took an excellent vacation that restored and refreshed us.
5. I got to hang out with the dogs many days.
6. I bought a new vacuum cleaner, which is the bomb.
7. I have had lunch, tea, and shopping with many of my friends.
8. I made new literary contacts.
9. I have some poems coming out in the fall, and more poems and mss. in the mail (burst of optimism).
10. Two sons graduated, one from college and one from high school. College daughter is home, working, and available for late-night movie dates.
11. I took a wonderful trip to see my best friend since forever in Santa Barbara.

Yesterday, in a burst of industry, I pulled many, many items from my wardrobe to give away. I threw away and recycled stuff and vacuumed some ferocious dust bunnies from under the bed. The room is unbelievably tidy, which always feels like a small miracle. I need to do the same in my study and in the kitchen. Optimism is like a drug and I am still on it.

12. I have done quite a bit of new writing, especially when you factor in all of the above.

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