murmurations 004
One of the things I like best about myself is that I am generally pretty good about getting back on the proverbial horse. Like anyone, I get derailed and sidetracked or otherwise pushed off of whatever I'm trying to do, but I will almost always pick myself up and try again. Current band falls apart? I'll be sad for awhile, then eventually start stalking the craigslist music postings. Break the daily language practice? I'll ignore the phone reminders for a few weeks, and then start doing the exercises while I'm waiting for the kettle to boil. Break my nose playing softball? I'll be back out on the field as soon as my stitches are removed.
Our present dystopia is determined to test this.
California is currently not only living through plague, but also through wildfires, which mean that a large number of things I used to do are just not at all on the table right now, and there is basically nothing I can do to change that. My weekly language study sessions I'd been doing for over a decade? Can't go to them. My preferred forms of exercise? Nope, those are group settings. Playing music with friends? That's a big ol' no, especially the singing part. Okay, fine, but can I at least go for a daily walk? *California laughs in Hazardous Air Quality.*
I'm not saying all this to whine (believe me, I have done that part already), but rather just as a observation. It's interesting, in an abstract way, to see where I'm able to fill those gaps (playing music on my own - not as fun, but still better than nothing; zoom Pilates sessions with a dear friend - weird to do in my house, but lovely to see her) and where those new gaps just...have to remain.
Humans are deeply, profoundly adaptable - we see this every day, and it's the fundamental reason our species has survived and evolved the way we have in the first place. But what does it mean for us as individuals to adapt so easily to things that are objectively awful? When (if) things go back to what we think of as "normal", how will we unpack all of these adaptations we have made?
-
August felt like a lost month to me, what with the plague and the smoke and some cat drama. But I'm feeling better about September (*knocks all the wood within reach*)

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We've been recording really regularly on Foul Puck recently, which is fun. We're trying to do some more Sport 101 podcasts, because while current events and larger meta-discussions are interesting, part of what we want to do is to make sports more accessible for folks without a background, and doing breakdowns of individual sports is good for that (we hope!). We did one recently with a special guest Mandi Marquardt about soccer that you can find here, and you can listen to us wax hysterical about events in sports news in our most recent episode (it might have my favorite title to date).
-

I've struggled to pick up a consistent book reading habit ever since grad school; in spite of being a kid who went through multiple books a day, grad school made it so that most of what I read now is articles and blogs and short fiction. But, predictably (?), the book that changed all that was not a novel, but instead a literal textbook-size historical tome about the history of Britain from the earliest inhabitants onward. 10/10, do recommend. Really accessibly written, even if you're not as huge a nerd as I am. You will want to have a map handy, though, because the author very much assumes everyone just knows where all those towns in England are.
-
And then the world was orange. Plenty has been said about this online, and I don't know that I have much to add beyond the fact that it was probably the most surreal experience I've been through. I spent a lot of time thinking about those periods in history where we know volcanic ash blotted out the sun for days, and affected climates for years, and what it would be like to live through something like that not knowing the cause.
Setting the San Francisco skyline to the music from Blade Runner was pretty epic though.
-

We've all got quarantine hobbies, and one of mine has been posting pictures of teacups on Instagram. Because why not? This one is my new favorite: my partner got it for me for my birthday, and not only is it impeccably nerdy, it's actually a very nicely made tea cup that happens to be my favorite color. #winning
-
It may be the end of the world as we know it, but at least the memes are good.
-
Folk on Foot Front Room Festival now has a 3rd iteration, co-hosted by my ever-lovely and endlessly talented name-twin, and it's as wonderful as the first two. Check it out!
-
The Four of Blades, as I recall, was the first time I started looking at the photos I was taking and went, "okay, yes, we're onto something here." It was also the first time that I began to really conceive of what an undertaking it might be. For the first three cards, there had been two, maybe three poses that I found really exciting, and I was still experimenting with the editing to see what worked and what I liked. With the fourth, there were suddenly lots of things working, and I could imagine the scope of the entire work for the first time.
I'll admit it was a little daunting. But! I still like the images for this card a lot.

You can read what she (here) and I (here) thought of it at the time, or see all of the photos we took for this card here.
Our present dystopia is determined to test this.
California is currently not only living through plague, but also through wildfires, which mean that a large number of things I used to do are just not at all on the table right now, and there is basically nothing I can do to change that. My weekly language study sessions I'd been doing for over a decade? Can't go to them. My preferred forms of exercise? Nope, those are group settings. Playing music with friends? That's a big ol' no, especially the singing part. Okay, fine, but can I at least go for a daily walk? *California laughs in Hazardous Air Quality.*
I'm not saying all this to whine (believe me, I have done that part already), but rather just as a observation. It's interesting, in an abstract way, to see where I'm able to fill those gaps (playing music on my own - not as fun, but still better than nothing; zoom Pilates sessions with a dear friend - weird to do in my house, but lovely to see her) and where those new gaps just...have to remain.
Humans are deeply, profoundly adaptable - we see this every day, and it's the fundamental reason our species has survived and evolved the way we have in the first place. But what does it mean for us as individuals to adapt so easily to things that are objectively awful? When (if) things go back to what we think of as "normal", how will we unpack all of these adaptations we have made?
-
August felt like a lost month to me, what with the plague and the smoke and some cat drama. But I'm feeling better about September (*knocks all the wood within reach*)

-
We've been recording really regularly on Foul Puck recently, which is fun. We're trying to do some more Sport 101 podcasts, because while current events and larger meta-discussions are interesting, part of what we want to do is to make sports more accessible for folks without a background, and doing breakdowns of individual sports is good for that (we hope!). We did one recently with a special guest Mandi Marquardt about soccer that you can find here, and you can listen to us wax hysterical about events in sports news in our most recent episode (it might have my favorite title to date).
-

I've struggled to pick up a consistent book reading habit ever since grad school; in spite of being a kid who went through multiple books a day, grad school made it so that most of what I read now is articles and blogs and short fiction. But, predictably (?), the book that changed all that was not a novel, but instead a literal textbook-size historical tome about the history of Britain from the earliest inhabitants onward. 10/10, do recommend. Really accessibly written, even if you're not as huge a nerd as I am. You will want to have a map handy, though, because the author very much assumes everyone just knows where all those towns in England are.
-
And then the world was orange. Plenty has been said about this online, and I don't know that I have much to add beyond the fact that it was probably the most surreal experience I've been through. I spent a lot of time thinking about those periods in history where we know volcanic ash blotted out the sun for days, and affected climates for years, and what it would be like to live through something like that not knowing the cause.
Setting the San Francisco skyline to the music from Blade Runner was pretty epic though.
-

We've all got quarantine hobbies, and one of mine has been posting pictures of teacups on Instagram. Because why not? This one is my new favorite: my partner got it for me for my birthday, and not only is it impeccably nerdy, it's actually a very nicely made tea cup that happens to be my favorite color. #winning
-
It may be the end of the world as we know it, but at least the memes are good.
-
Folk on Foot Front Room Festival now has a 3rd iteration, co-hosted by my ever-lovely and endlessly talented name-twin, and it's as wonderful as the first two. Check it out!
-
The Four of Blades, as I recall, was the first time I started looking at the photos I was taking and went, "okay, yes, we're onto something here." It was also the first time that I began to really conceive of what an undertaking it might be. For the first three cards, there had been two, maybe three poses that I found really exciting, and I was still experimenting with the editing to see what worked and what I liked. With the fourth, there were suddenly lots of things working, and I could imagine the scope of the entire work for the first time.
I'll admit it was a little daunting. But! I still like the images for this card a lot.

You can read what she (here) and I (here) thought of it at the time, or see all of the photos we took for this card here.
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