Posts By: Ms. Jen

Molly Wright Steenson on the Avante-Garde and Blogs

Yesterday, while traipsing down some lovely worm-hole of the blogsphere, I came upon a link to Molly Wright Steenson’s paper that she gave at Digital Genres, entitled “Imaginary Architects: From the Crystal Chain to the Blog”. I recommend reading it if you are interested in how the ideas of the early 20th Cent. Art avante-garde and theorists are still affecting and linking to creative and technical endeavors nearly a hundred years later. Bravo Molly!
When I was teaching art history and web design at Biola, many of my most engaged students were big fans of the Bauhaus and German avante-garde movements. Not just from a historical design perspective, but also on how they were influencing current design and art theory/criticism, esp. “Clean” Design on the web, and current political Euro Rock (TINC, and the like).
I love to learn of the connections that people make, even more so when it is all the connections between seemingly disparate creative endeavors.

San D’Eggy and some fun links…

As my last act before I go to bed on Late Tuesday/Very Early Wednesday, and before I go into 3 days of very little internet connectivity (agggh… the shakes, withdrawal…), here are a few notes and links:
The only thing I can get my mother, the technophobe, to turn on her computer for is the on-going blog of Salam Pax. For all of the doubters, and mom was not one of them, Salam has been revealed to be the real thing. I personally have appreciated his perspective and voice. As the Aussie’s would say, Good on ya!
Do not let fear run your life and thoughts. Laugh Hard. Go to Boing-Boing’s Gallery of SARS Art….
In the long line of Internet Quizzes, which do a much better job of tongue-in-cheek personality assessments than Cosmo, comes the “Which OS are you?” quiz. I am proud to announce that I am Red Hat Linux (thanks to Metafilter for the link).

Small Note

Just to let folks know, and request prayers, my step-grandpa Bill West is in the hosptial for a fractured hip. My grandma Grace is very stressed and having dizzy spells. The family is taking two day tours of duty to go down and stay with Grandma in San Diego and help her out. For the next few weeks, I am on the Wed – Friday shift. So, if you call or email, and I don’t reply right away, it is because I have very spotty cell and email acess down there. Thanks for understanding.

Memorial Day 2003

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My mom’s side of the family is OVERWHELMING… Large, Irish Clan that has way too much energy and is always in everyone else’s business. Athletic and Nosey, a bad combo. My dad’s side of the family is laid back and non-nosey to the point of non-existence. My dad’s family is happy to get together once every decade or so, a phone call a year suffices. Mom’s fam is just the opposite.
Memorial Day 2001, my dad and I visited his mother’s grave for the first time since 1978, all total this was 2nd time we had visited since Grandma had died in 1968 when I was 3 months old. Both times, my dad had to call someone else to find out where the cemetery was. Me, I google it. I have visited each Memorial Day since 2001, and still can’t remember were the cemetery is other than in a track of houses adjacent to Lincoln and State College.
Last Monday, I bought gerba daisies, drove over to the cemetery, and put a flower on Grandma Marlyce’s grave, Great Aunt Vernice’s grave, and Great Grandma Evelyn’s grave.
From there, I met Erika in Huntington Beach and we went for a long walk around the Bolsa Chica wetlands reserve. The smell of firepits and bbq drifted over Pacific Coast Hwy from the Bolsa Chica State Beach to us as we walked through the wetlands and around the Mesa. Plenty of wildflowers and birds – egrets, herons, terns, savanna sparrows, etc. A wonderful way to finish the afternoon.
Click on the following thumbnails for my pictures of the columbine flowers I planeted at my brother’s house 3 years ago (row 1), and Bolsa Chica wetlands walk (row 2 & 3).

OC Scottish Games 2003 Pics

Pipe and Drum Competition Grounds

Here are my pictures from this last weekend’s Scottish Games at the OC Fairgrounds. I spent the better part of both Sat. & Sun. watching the Pipe & Drum band competition. The best part of this, besides lots of men in kilts, is that the Pipe & Drum band competition is always held in this lovely willow shaded area between two quonsen huts. This year, a black phoebe was nesting in the area, and I was able to get photos of both mom and baby!
Besides the Pipe & Drum bands, I have also included a few pics of the athletic games and other funny random sights that caught my eye, such as the Tartan Midgets and a man wearing a t-shirt that so nicely captured the proper spirit of the battle between SoCal and NoCal.
Click on the thumbnails for the larger pictures.

Men in Kilts!

Matt from the Real McKenzies - April 27, 2002

Today is Thursday, for most folks in the US, they are eagerly anticipating their first big weekend of the Summer, Memorial Day weekend. My brother took off yesterday for the River and won’t be back until next wednesday. But for me, I stay in Orange County, ignore BBQ invites and other attempts to lure me away from my 3rd biggest social weekend of the year….
#1 most anticpated and fun social event on Jen’s annual Calendar: DIY Bowling
#2 most anticipated and fun social event of the year: SXSW
#3 most anticipated event: Scottish Games at the OC Fairgrounds
Yes, I have a personal fetish for men wearing kilts, with my biggest preferrence in punk men in kilts. Thus the annual pilgrimmage down the 55 freeway to Costa Mesa on Saturday and Sunday of Memorial Day weekend.
Pipe and Drum band competitions, large men in sports kilts tossing things, cute sheep dogs attempting to round up sheep, small children dancing, big exhibition halls filled with booths, bad British food and lots of beer for those who drink it, and the spectacle of it all.
Yep, that is the best part. The spectacle of it all. Men of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities (don’t have to be Scottish), and ages, all wearing kilts. God bless ’em.

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For years attendees of the Games could bring their dogs, then last year the fairgrounds attempted to clamp down and say no dogs after a certain number, but I was able to sneak in my mom’s dog, Freckles. This year all of the documentation tells you to leave your dog at home. This is sad, as bringing a dog, even a rented one like mom’s, is a great way to meet the small children of men in kilts… ;o)
Top photo of the Real McKenzies by Jen; photo at 2002 Scottish Games by Erika.

Villanelle Update

File under the category of “Ooops”….
In class last night, I learned that I got the rhyme scheme in the villanelle wrong. Oops.
The teacher diagrammed a Villanelle for us like this:
A1
b
A2
a
b
A1
etc.
Now I, being a poetry newbie, interpreted the “A1” and “A2” as the refrains that had NO relation to the “a” of the rhyming scheme in the non-refrain lines. In my brain, the capital As with numbers where separate entities unto themselves.
Bad brain, bad brain on too much computer work….
It dawned on me slowly last night, while we were work shopping another classmate’s villanelle that the capital “A1” and “A2” of the refrain were to rhyme with the little “a”s of the main part of the poem. Oops.
The dawning of the realization that I had missed out on 50% of the villanelle’s form was rather like the time I was talking to my brother and he was telling me a long story about his friend “Jane” who was a dancer. Given that the story was mostly about her teenage kids, everytime my brother mentioned her dance career I envisioned that she ran a ballet studio for children. Over the course of the conversation, the realization that she was a dancer of another sort, the type who takes her clothes off in the course of dancing, came slowing over my consciousness rather like the sun creeping over the horizon slowing and then all the sudden SUN everywhere.
Last night was just like the conversation with my brother, after I realized that Jane was a stripper and that the Villanelle had a LOT more “a” rhyme than I put in it, I felt slow, naive, and rather embarrassed. At break I rushed over to the instructor, quickly explained my plight, and she appeared to have a moment herself. She didn’t realize that I, the student, did not already know that the captial A of the refrain and the minor a of the rhyme were not related.
My only defense of myself is that my education focused more on math classes where big As and little a’s had no numerical relational but were symbols for different ideas, and that sleeping through most of the required english classes as a teenager and college student has resulted in minor adult embarrassment. Oops.
Maybe not embarassment, but feeling silly in the midst of a paradigm shift that I assumed to be one way and folks who know poetry assume to be another way.