The There There Letter: the Unremembered, the Unexpected, and Uruguayan Wine
Three things from DAH.
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, the Unremembered …
That which is unremembered could be simply forgotten, but that's too facile. Forgotten seems like an uncared-for castaway. I think something unremembered isn't truly forgotten for good. It's maybe mostly forgotten but lurks in the dark just a shadow away from memory. The unremembered is awaiting the summons to recall. A scent, a sound, or something that catches at the edge of vision; these can pull the unremembered into nostalgia or even current relevance. And, because we can't expect an unexpected summons to recall (by definition), the surprise remembrance of the unremembered can be an emotional experience. Who among us hasn't said or thought, "I knew that! I didn't forget! I just didn't remember right away!"
A History of the Famously Interesting and Mostly Forgotten
Second up this week, the Unexpected …
Sometimes it sneaks up from behind, sometimes it rushes from the fore. If it's unexpected, it's outside the boundaries we'd assumed, and breaking through those perceived-to-be firm boundaries to surprise us. In the linked post below, Tania Luna suggests this sequence for humans responding to the unexpected:
1. Freeze -- for about 1/25th of a second.
2. Find -- extreme curiosity about what is happening.
3. Shift -- change thinking because of new information.
Luna adds: "When we're surprised, for better or for worse, our emotions intensify up to 400 percent." We may feel elated or alarmed or defeated … it's a big emotional impact in any case. We don't all recognize the unexpected at the same time. That's why some people laugh early at some joke, or sob late after some tragic incident. I think that "Freeze" moment isn't uniformly 1/25 of a second, or it doesn't take into account individual latency in group awareness.
Surprise! Why the Unexpected Feels Good, and Why It's Good For Us
Third up this week, Uruguayan Wine …
A few years ago, unexpectedly, the wines of Uruguay had a brief spotlight moment in the US wine world. Before you look for a map, may I remind you that Uruguay (more properly, the Oriental Republic of Uruguay, and isn't that something) is a country on the eastern coast of South America, in between Brazil and Argentina. Its wine history is more than 150 years old, and its leading variety is Tannat. Tannat is a red grape that usually makes wine of deep color and solid tannins. And, for a little while, ten or twelve years ago (I didn't mark the date), Uruguay was anointed by some as the next star wine region on the world stage. It was unexpected by most. Who knew Uruguay? Then, after a short while, most of us unremembered Uruguayan wine. Because we just didn't see it. It was outside the normal boundaries of our wine world. I hope that I will one day be surprised when someone suggests we try "this curious Tannat," when Uruguayan wine can stop lurking and allow me a taste.
Exploring the Wines of Uruguay
And a bit more, nodding to nostalgia and magical realism.
When There Were Ghosts, by Alberto Rios
On the Mexico side in the 1950s and 60s,
There were movie houses everywhere
And for the longest time people could smoke
As they pleased in the comfort of the theaters.
The smoke rose and the movie told itself
On the screen and in the air both,
The projection caught a little
In the wavering mist of the cigarettes.
In this way, every story was two stories
And every character lived near its ghost.
Looking up we knew what would happen next
Before it did, as if it the movie were dreaming
Itself, and we were part of it, part of the plot
Itself, and not just the audience.
And in that dream the actors’ faces bent
A little, hard to make out exactly in the smoke,
So that María Félix and Pedro Armendáriz
Looked a little like my aunt and one of my uncles—
And so they were, and so were we all in the movies,
Which is how I remember it: Popcorn in hand,
Smoke in the air, gum on the floor—
Those Saturday nights, we ourselves
Were the story and the stuff and the stars.
We ourselves were alive in the dance of the dream.
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, the Unremembered …
That which is unremembered could be simply forgotten, but that's too facile. Forgotten seems like an uncared-for castaway. I think something unremembered isn't truly forgotten for good. It's maybe mostly forgotten but lurks in the dark just a shadow away from memory. The unremembered is awaiting the summons to recall. A scent, a sound, or something that catches at the edge of vision; these can pull the unremembered into nostalgia or even current relevance. And, because we can't expect an unexpected summons to recall (by definition), the surprise remembrance of the unremembered can be an emotional experience. Who among us hasn't said or thought, "I knew that! I didn't forget! I just didn't remember right away!"
A History of the Famously Interesting and Mostly Forgotten
Second up this week, the Unexpected …
Sometimes it sneaks up from behind, sometimes it rushes from the fore. If it's unexpected, it's outside the boundaries we'd assumed, and breaking through those perceived-to-be firm boundaries to surprise us. In the linked post below, Tania Luna suggests this sequence for humans responding to the unexpected:
1. Freeze -- for about 1/25th of a second.
2. Find -- extreme curiosity about what is happening.
3. Shift -- change thinking because of new information.
Luna adds: "When we're surprised, for better or for worse, our emotions intensify up to 400 percent." We may feel elated or alarmed or defeated … it's a big emotional impact in any case. We don't all recognize the unexpected at the same time. That's why some people laugh early at some joke, or sob late after some tragic incident. I think that "Freeze" moment isn't uniformly 1/25 of a second, or it doesn't take into account individual latency in group awareness.
Surprise! Why the Unexpected Feels Good, and Why It's Good For Us
Third up this week, Uruguayan Wine …
A few years ago, unexpectedly, the wines of Uruguay had a brief spotlight moment in the US wine world. Before you look for a map, may I remind you that Uruguay (more properly, the Oriental Republic of Uruguay, and isn't that something) is a country on the eastern coast of South America, in between Brazil and Argentina. Its wine history is more than 150 years old, and its leading variety is Tannat. Tannat is a red grape that usually makes wine of deep color and solid tannins. And, for a little while, ten or twelve years ago (I didn't mark the date), Uruguay was anointed by some as the next star wine region on the world stage. It was unexpected by most. Who knew Uruguay? Then, after a short while, most of us unremembered Uruguayan wine. Because we just didn't see it. It was outside the normal boundaries of our wine world. I hope that I will one day be surprised when someone suggests we try "this curious Tannat," when Uruguayan wine can stop lurking and allow me a taste.
Exploring the Wines of Uruguay
And a bit more, nodding to nostalgia and magical realism.
When There Were Ghosts, by Alberto Rios
On the Mexico side in the 1950s and 60s,
There were movie houses everywhere
And for the longest time people could smoke
As they pleased in the comfort of the theaters.
The smoke rose and the movie told itself
On the screen and in the air both,
The projection caught a little
In the wavering mist of the cigarettes.
In this way, every story was two stories
And every character lived near its ghost.
Looking up we knew what would happen next
Before it did, as if it the movie were dreaming
Itself, and we were part of it, part of the plot
Itself, and not just the audience.
And in that dream the actors’ faces bent
A little, hard to make out exactly in the smoke,
So that María Félix and Pedro Armendáriz
Looked a little like my aunt and one of my uncles—
And so they were, and so were we all in the movies,
Which is how I remember it: Popcorn in hand,
Smoke in the air, gum on the floor—
Those Saturday nights, we ourselves
Were the story and the stuff and the stars.
We ourselves were alive in the dance of the dream.
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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