The There There Letter: Verbigeration, Vividity, and Vermentino
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, Verbigeration …
I have an ambition, a very mild ambition, to complete the cycle of Shakespeare's plays in performance. I mean to see them all live, eventually. The difficulty is that I can't clearly remember every production I’ve already seen because my cycle is taking decades. I ought to have taken notes, but I'd only have lost them. I know I've never seen King John. Nor have I seen Henry VIII (John Fletcher may have given Will a hand with this one). I'm closer to finishing the cycle of the alphabet in these e-newsletters, so, hey, a tiny win cometh. Some months ago, I wondered about my The There There alliteration. I took a look and realized some initial letters had been used several times and some not at all. I then set myself the task of utilizing every letter of the alphabet. Completing the cycle, see? I'm getting very, very close. But I'm concerned this might be the beginning of verbigeration for DAH.
What's this about verbigeration?
Second up this week, Vividity …
I would that all my memories were clear and sharp: vividity in all my mental recall would be splendid. Managing my Shakespeare-in-performance and The There There alliteration cycles would be a snap. Unfortunately, while some memories are vivid, others are dim, confused, non-existent, or pure fantasy. These last are the most confusing. I suspect most of my earliest childhood memories are mere invention, created by looking at photographs with my parents as they told me what they'd been doing with this wee one. I know the memories I have most clearly in mind are different for others. I have a friend who seems to remember details of everything we ever ate together, and the music we listened to as we ate. I don't know whether to believe him or not. I have little memory of such details. On the other hand, I can summon up interpersonal incidents that are as vivid as if they happened yesterday, even if they are decades old. I wonder if I were to share those memories with others (for me, there are always others in my memories) whether they would similarly recall or not?
10 interesting human memory facts.
Third up this week, Vermentino …
Thinking about vividity made my mouth water. What vivid varietal had been too long missing from my glass? Vermentino! Perhaps one from Sardinia, which seems such an exotic Mediterranean location (similarly: Corsica – how can one island be Italy and one France?). I went online and found a Sardinian Vermentino that seemed perfect, but it was sold out. So, I settled on a Kermit Lynch Ligurian alternative. It was delivered to our doorstep this week (along with a few other fine bottles). Liguria is the Italian Riviera, colorful and coastal. And, as really good wines can, this one transported our minds there. Sensory experience and book-learning combining to create a false memory? I don't care. The wine is delicious. Punta Crena is a 500-year-old family winery with terraced vineyards a mere 3/4 of a mile from the sea. Their Vermentino 2018 (Riviera Ligure di Ponente) is surprisingly richly textured yet still crisp tasting. Tartish lemon curd aromas and flavors with some tropical spice and light pome-skin-like tannins in the clean finish. Lovely.
The most beautiful small towns of the Italian Riviera.
And a bit more: Lord Byron swam across Liguria's Bay of Poets (Gulf of La Spezia) to visit his pal Percy Bysshe Shelley. He also wrote a poem that lives vividly in my memory (I memorized this poem as a young-man-with-romantic-leanings, and it stirs memories).
She Walks in Beauty, by Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
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, Verbigeration …
I have an ambition, a very mild ambition, to complete the cycle of Shakespeare's plays in performance. I mean to see them all live, eventually. The difficulty is that I can't clearly remember every production I’ve already seen because my cycle is taking decades. I ought to have taken notes, but I'd only have lost them. I know I've never seen King John. Nor have I seen Henry VIII (John Fletcher may have given Will a hand with this one). I'm closer to finishing the cycle of the alphabet in these e-newsletters, so, hey, a tiny win cometh. Some months ago, I wondered about my The There There alliteration. I took a look and realized some initial letters had been used several times and some not at all. I then set myself the task of utilizing every letter of the alphabet. Completing the cycle, see? I'm getting very, very close. But I'm concerned this might be the beginning of verbigeration for DAH.
What's this about verbigeration?
Second up this week, Vividity …
I would that all my memories were clear and sharp: vividity in all my mental recall would be splendid. Managing my Shakespeare-in-performance and The There There alliteration cycles would be a snap. Unfortunately, while some memories are vivid, others are dim, confused, non-existent, or pure fantasy. These last are the most confusing. I suspect most of my earliest childhood memories are mere invention, created by looking at photographs with my parents as they told me what they'd been doing with this wee one. I know the memories I have most clearly in mind are different for others. I have a friend who seems to remember details of everything we ever ate together, and the music we listened to as we ate. I don't know whether to believe him or not. I have little memory of such details. On the other hand, I can summon up interpersonal incidents that are as vivid as if they happened yesterday, even if they are decades old. I wonder if I were to share those memories with others (for me, there are always others in my memories) whether they would similarly recall or not?
10 interesting human memory facts.
Third up this week, Vermentino …
Thinking about vividity made my mouth water. What vivid varietal had been too long missing from my glass? Vermentino! Perhaps one from Sardinia, which seems such an exotic Mediterranean location (similarly: Corsica – how can one island be Italy and one France?). I went online and found a Sardinian Vermentino that seemed perfect, but it was sold out. So, I settled on a Kermit Lynch Ligurian alternative. It was delivered to our doorstep this week (along with a few other fine bottles). Liguria is the Italian Riviera, colorful and coastal. And, as really good wines can, this one transported our minds there. Sensory experience and book-learning combining to create a false memory? I don't care. The wine is delicious. Punta Crena is a 500-year-old family winery with terraced vineyards a mere 3/4 of a mile from the sea. Their Vermentino 2018 (Riviera Ligure di Ponente) is surprisingly richly textured yet still crisp tasting. Tartish lemon curd aromas and flavors with some tropical spice and light pome-skin-like tannins in the clean finish. Lovely.
The most beautiful small towns of the Italian Riviera.
And a bit more: Lord Byron swam across Liguria's Bay of Poets (Gulf of La Spezia) to visit his pal Percy Bysshe Shelley. He also wrote a poem that lives vividly in my memory (I memorized this poem as a young-man-with-romantic-leanings, and it stirs memories).
She Walks in Beauty, by Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
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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