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Showing posts from 2012

Masks for Shambhala Children's Day

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I have had fun drawing these for our solstice celebration this weekend, and want to share them with anyone who would like to make a mask for the kids. Click on each to be directed to a higher resolution version (scanned at 150dpi, so I guess you would want to print it at that as well.) Happy Solstice!

Writing "The End"

It is a glorious feeling, writing "The End" (I will spare you the all caps and the exclamation marks) after a month and some of intensive writing. Of course, the piece is not finished, but the first draft of it is. I'm tickled pink. I thought I would be this self-satisfied on the 30th, after successfully completing the target 50k words for NanoRhino, but that feeling was, if I could sum it up in a word, meh. It took three more days and 6k of writing, and I finally got that full frog feeling. Now what? Finish the rewrite of last year's book? Play that damned fiddle tune in tune for my animation ? Finish the meandering and malingering book that I've been working on for a couple of years? Write that new one that I'd laid out, planning to use it for this year's November folly, but changed my mind at the last minute? Paint in every spare second? Meditate? A lot? Shockingly, one thing I will not be doing is catching up on all of the Doctor W

Mid Month Doldrums

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I'm currently feeling that a daily word quota is not the shortest path to great literature. But I made a cover for my book, even though the book has yet to be written! And I added sound to my Dakini animation , which I am now calling "Onion." It's all up in the air. And flat. Unintentionally so, sorry. I'll work on that...

Fiddle advice, noveling novelties, and Wildness

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Oh, I love researching novels. I previously had no idea that clouds were formed around "cloud seeds", or "cloud condensation nuclei". I thought it was a simple matter of water temperature, but no, there are seeds. How delicious. Even more fun, those seeds can be any number of odd things. All kinds of aerosols , bacteria , sulfur ... Climate science has suddenly become more magical. On another note (heh heh hem), my violin teacher may be classically trained, but he sure is saving me some pain with the fiddle. First was the suggestion for a chin rest that slanted down and out away from the tail, instead of biting into my chin. Second, instead of my massive sponge for wusses, I now have a tall, hugely malleable shoulder rest that tips my fiddle forward, toward my bow arm rather than flat toward the sky. This has been saving my jaw, my neck, and my shoulder, allowing my to play for more than 20 minutes without a headache. In fact, now I can play for hours with

Preparing for National Novel Writing Month

Last year, I hit 40k. Not in income, alas, but in the November novel writing event, known as NaNoWriMo . Produced by NaNo bugs, of course (for those of you with elementary school children obsessed with the newest gadget...) The goal was 50k, which means filling about four 8.5x11 sheets of paper per day. That's a lot. I wasn't too disappointed not to have hit the limit, however, because I did something that I find pretty challenging. Namely, I resolved the story. After rewriting the story, and adding another 6k, I asked my friend Sarah to beta read the short novel. She confirmed my fear, that I never let anything really bad happen to my characters. No suspense. No pain. Only resolution. I'm now in a second rewrite. So this year I am trying to allow bad things to happen. This is counterintuitive. I spend my whole life trying to make sure bad things don't happen. Why would I intentionally make bad things happen to people I like? I guess because I want to prove that t

Spot the Chicken

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We have chickens in our back yard. They are roaming free, though they aren't supposed to be. They're ours, sort of. Also sort of Laurent's coworker, so we are chicken hosts to their two, and we have two. One for each collective child. Lucy and Emile named theirs: Saphire and Chouchou. I'm too tired to chase chickens all around the yard, back into their pen. I had a fun weekend. I took part in the animation challenge by Zorobabel . You can see the results here . We were called on to create 24 seconds in 24 hours, using a prompt of a bunch of geological and cloud shots they posted on their site. I had the brilliant idea to use a paint on glass method, painting Emile in the clouds(ish). I should mention that I had never tried this method before. Paint on acetate, to be dried and scanned, yes. However, paint on glass, to be smoodged around and sculpted, no. Next time I will try using vegetable oil instead of dish soap as the medium. What was I thinking, using so

Beasts of the Childhood Wild

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A friend of mine took me to see The Beasts of the Southern Wild a few weeks ago, before the return of the cold season. Still, a month later, I am still thinking about it. Stories of difficult childhoods often mesmerize me, especially when the magical mindset of youth sways the tides of reality. This makes me a sucker for really good children's lit, and even some that's mediocre. I imagine that some people think adults who read young adult fiction haven't grown up, but I think it may just be a sign of having had a really difficult childhood. The reader searches for other voices to illuminate the unfathomable jungle, one step at a time. The Beasts of the Southern Wild is one such piece of artwork, one that takes the messy and unworkable, screws it up into another form, and proclaims it as our own. The main character is no victim, as much as I cry for her, and her father is no devil, as flawed as he is. Wow. This movie still gives me chills. I have often complained t

Postmodem (sorry) for my first online class

I wanted to write down every detail of my recently completed online class, to enrich the world with a scrap more info about what distance learning is really like, but I'll have to settle for a foggy overview. As I so often do. I'm no stranger to learning things online, but it's usually through my own motility, not guided by a syllabus with a professor behind it. So I did find myself chafing a bit whenever I noticed that I lacked complete independence and discretion, more so than I would in a face to face class. However, I really appreciated the amount of student input into the discussion. I had never heard everyone's completely formed thoughts in this way, and really appreciated the weekly writing of other students. The class was “ Writing Theories in Second Language Instruction ”, taught by Katherine Kiss through the UMASS Boston online masters in Applied Linguistics program. I'm not sure I feel better equipped to teach writing as a creative and useful endeavo

Ashokan fall

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My new favorite way to practice the violin is to make it quiet. I feel the vibrations that way, resonating in my skull, buzzing at my teeth. I do this by wearing earplugs and equipping my fiddle with a mute (like this , not that I am endorsing anything - just to give an idea). Unfortunately, I think I still hear all my mistakes just fine. You might wonder what the point is of playing a quiet fiddle, and I can only answer that it makes it feel really far away, and especially nostalgic. This coming from over the hills feel works particularly well with my current favorite practice piece, "Ashokan Farewell." Written in the style of a Scottish Lament, I can feel it floating across the rolling and rocky landscape of Scotland. Granted, I've never been there, but I have seen The Highlander , and Brave ... Jay Unger, who composed the piece, wrote this about it: “I composed Ashokan Farewell in 1982 shortly after our Ashokan Fiddle Camp; Dance Camps had come to an end for t

No, really, the GRE?

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I have committed to the idea of getting my Masters in Applied Linguistics at UMASS Boston, and so I am now applying to the program... And realize I have to take the GRE. Seriously? In my advanced and addled age? Worse news, the GRE now actually requires knowledge of the quadratic equation, or so I am told. I have now set about learning this albatross. I can honestly say that, in all of the math I have done outside of high school, I have never before needed this thing. At least I found a cute mnemonic youtube video to help me along! Oh, and I am fiddling around with my dakini animation, but at glacial (pre-global warming) speed... Dakini Sketch from Julia Gandrud on Vimeo .

Emile's second birthday

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Reception of online degrees at brick and mortar universities?

I'm still digesting the idea of online versus in person degrees... So I wrote this quick email: Hello, I am currently considering enrolling at the University of Boston in their online Applied Linguistics program. I am doing an informal survey for my blog, trying to get a sense of how online programs are received at other universities. Do you admit any students into your program who might have received a degree from a real institution, but did their degree online? At this point, would you be aware of it? Sincerely, Julia I sent it to Professor Bertram Malle , in the Brown Linguistics Department, among others. He was kind enough to give me this reply: I have not encountered a case, and if I did encounter one I would do additional research into the institution and the program.  Ultimately it's the whole application package (incl. research experience, letters, etc.) that raises students to the top.  I could imagine that online study may have negative consequen

Post class debriefing

As I have written about earlier, I am sampling two graduate classes, one from the online Applied Linguistics program at the University of Massachusetts, Boston, and the second from Rhode Island College's Masters in Teaching English as a Second Language. The first summer session at Rhode Island College is over, and I now feel ready to begin digesting my experience. Three issues seem the most salient. First, my physical absence from my house, both from transit and from class time, was significant. Beneficial to me as a student, in that I did not have little distractions running around, biting each other, screaming my name from the bottom of the stairs. Detrimental to little person equilibrium, in that they both have become more clingy than before, and complain loudly when they see babysitters arrive. Plus the house is a mess. More so than usual. Second, the teacher modeled good teaching brilliantly. He (Professor Jaime Ramirez) deployed some really inventive teaching

Windhorse

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I participated in the Rigden Weekend, taught by Acharya Eric Spiegel, at the Boston Shambhala Center this past weekend. Their gong is bigger than ours is. But back to the weekend... We received teaching for the lungta, or windhorse, practice. I'm trying to practice it on the fly, but it isn't so easy. Still, I really appreciated Acharya Spiegel's clarity. There was no nudginess, no nuts, no preciousness, no excessive claims of knowledge. And I came away feeling like this was someone who knows of what he speaks. Lucy, coincidentaly, serendipitously, made me this drawing while I was away.

Form and space

I am supposed to be sleeping, but instead I am thinking about Japan. I started musing about what it was I learned while I was there, as a very raw 16 year old. I thought of space, and silence. Japan can be very loud, and very busy, full of tchotchkes. But there is still usually space in the form, and often you can only hear what is being said by ignoring what is actually being said, and listening for what is not. That sounds awfully mystical, but you only have to think of the stereotype of the perpetually nodding, acknowledging, supporting Japanese conversation, and remember that "hai, hai, hai" often means no, rather than yes. And the game of Go? Empty territories. Tea ceremony? Silence, then the "toc" of a bamboo ladle, and waiting. Of course, the ultimate example of calligraphy, with space in form and form in space... Sounds ideal, as a society, except that I don't remember much true individuality. More like comic book sketches of individuals. Which

End of May list

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Once again, things I have wanted to say are piling up, and now I am going to throw it all down at once. 1. Talking to my therapist as if I were writing a blog (non-interactive) is tedious for all involved. 2. The choke in artichokes is not dangerous, and the word actually comes from the Ligurian word for pine cone . 3. Choosing between online degree programs and in person degree programs is not easy, especially if it is not exactly the same program. The University of Massachusetts, Boston, has an online degree in Applied Linguistics , while Rhode Island College has a Master's in Teaching of English as a Second Language . The first is ostensibly more geared toward theory, and the second toward practical, sociological and historical classroom issues. At first glance, the applied linguistics degree sounds more interesting for me (always love the geekier side of things) but here is a negative review. Positive one here , and discussion here . I am taking one class from each pla

Improving on the fiddle

I had my first violin lesson when I was about ten or eleven. I loved the violin. But I was really terrible at it. No one at home played any instruments, and I only ever practiced the day of, and maybe the day before, my lesson. My violin teacher once told me that I "looked right" playing it. Another later told me that maybe I should try the viola, because it was easier to hit the right notes... But what I always really wanted to do with it was to play the fiddle in a blues band. Or just sit around and jam in a Celtic Ceilidh (pronounced kaylee). It is a real pleasure to have my weekly fiddle classes with Cathy Clasper-Torch and five other students. It feels almost like a jam, aside from our extremely slow speed. This week we worked more on Soldier's Joy (earlier post about that here ), trying to find a way to play it fast without being sloppy, and to drone on the D string or the E without sounding to labored. Haven't mastered either of those yet. Here's my tea

Crow flight animation

I think having two children at home is getting to me. I keep filming crows flying. And here's my animation study on that flight:

Lucy flight

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From my good friends Anu and Anurag:

House sings Saint James Infirmary

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My fiddle class (taught by the stellar Cathy Clasper-Torch ) just started learning Saint James Infirmary a couple of weeks ago. Okay, I prodded and wheedled, and so she taught it to us. I had heard the song in an old Betty Boop animation by the Fleischer Brothers, drawn by Roland Crandall, performed by Cab Calloway and his band. Later, while browsing my friend Ysanne's website ( ilovestrings ), I heard her new version with David J., and I had to use it on my demo reel. So, yes, I geek out about this song. And then, happy day, today I heard one of my favorite actors, Hugh Laurie (of Jeeves and Wooster and House, M.D. fame) discuss and perform a tidbit of the music on Fresh Air. If you want to listen for it, it's in the last three minutes of the interview. He says that it could have originally been an English song, about the infirmary that was once in the Saint James Palace, although he only learned it through Louis Armstrong .   Wikipedia (yay!) goes on to mention t

What next? Crows.

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I have to admit that I am disappointed. The (fully funded) post-bacc program in math at Smith College told me that my math grades were not high enough. True, I did goof off a fair amount back in the day... So, now what? Laurent suggested thinking about what was important to me in a career. Here is my ordered list: -Helping adults -Using my brain -Being creative -Getting some recognition -Living wage This looks quite a lot like teaching, to me. I had been planning to teach math, and haven't given that up completely, but I'm still thinking about teaching art and English for foreign language learners. In the meantime, I have started doing studies for another animation, this time on crows:

Les bon mots d'Alain

My mother in law gave me a book of writings by the French philosopher Alain. This quote is from short essay written in 1906: Quand on voit les choses en courant, elles se ressemblent beaucoup. When you see the world at a run, all things look alike. Wouldn't he have been surprised by the blur today?

Playing with that trope. A little.

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There's this thing called whimsy, a style of painting that is known for it's sincerity, and for it's tendency to include unicorns and pretty colors. And my paintings from grad school did fall loosely within the category. Not in a cynical, edgy kind of way, but featuring girls with girl power and unicorn horns to bring down their enemies. No (whimsically) tilted heads and outsized eyes, but still within the trope, I would say. I got some skepticism, and probably never brought home my point, that imagination can be under threat in a world that wants only hard, cold reality. Or maybe I did, but for the wrong audience. Who knows? I was interested in the vulnerability that comes to people who have lived through bad situations and still manage to be tender and authentic. I think this still interests me. So, I've been working on a painting I never finished from before graduate school. Notice the critters? Those are new.

Spring colors

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I have been working up to this painting for a while. The canvas itself has been in my possession for ten years, and has crossed the country once. It's about four feet by two, and was meant to hang in our bedroom. But I realized that I prefer blank walls, or animals, or landscapes, in a bedroom. Not people. So, where do I put it? We finally destroyed the support for the jacuzzi (I say "we" because I tried to do it, and eventually had to hand off the axe and hammer to Laurent. Not much for physical labor, I have to admit.) We found that the underside was infinitely more beautiful than that monstrosity had ever been. Wisteria roots had pried up bits of rubber and glue that I couldn't, and made us a landscape. Laurent took photos. Lucy is still enjoying horseback riding, and Emile is working on his Tai Chi. Actually, no, he is trying to stretch himself from one side of the door frame to the other. It's all about positioning. Sometimes he manages, and then

The kid without a chance

I have been feeling a lot of guilt and mourning during the discussions about Trayvon Martin. Mourning for obvious reasons, that a child was murdered, that someone now has blood on his hands, and that so many parents are afraid of this happening to their children. Guilt, because of the quick judgments I have made, and about the one boy I evicted from a class of mine, when I was teaching "at risk" (quotation marks just because I'm quoting, not because I think it's false) kids in Dorchester, Massachusetts. He harassed his teachers, he used violent language, he mocked, but, ultimately, he just wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, I, finding that I could not teach him, and frustrated by the disruptions, asked that he be removed from the program. I now wish I had just quit, and let the director take over. After all, I was the one who couldn't handle it. And now where is he? He is an adult now, and I wonder what chances he has. I wish him well. All that to say, as

There's art, and then there's mathematics

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Many people comment on young people's future. I have now reached an age where people politely decline to hypothesize, being as I clearly have no future, I suppose. At any rate, back in the day, I remember many people urging me to find a way to combine art and mathematics, through design, or through animation, or computer graphics. I never really listened, because art was art, and never took any lessons from rulers and coordinates, and math was all about playing with abstract ideas. So I played with one, and then the other, and resisted any attempts to meld the two. Now, much later, I am thinking about the two in the same sentence, mainly to find out if I believe that it is possible to put them believably together. I have seen many illustrations of mathematical ideas, and, while interesting, I don't always buy that it qualifies as contemporary avant-garde. You know? So I did a quick search, and came up with a few images that I believe. And now I am starting to think.

Taking some crazed little monkeys on vacation

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And some giraffes, too.

Cheetah painting colors

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Choosing a background color for a cheetah. The colors of the room it will hang in are bounding the drawing: rose, pumpkin, aubergine (to be botanical about it.) Opinions?

I was watching Sesame Street when I was Lucy's age...

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Lucy has been having a very hard time falling asleep, because she is too hot. Why is she too hot? Because she has the covers over her head, but there's no winter, so she's too hot. Why does she have the covers over her head? Because she's afraid. Why is she afraid? Ah... I don't know. It could be the caffeine-like effect of chocolate in her after school snacks. Or it could be the bickering with a younger brother. Or it could be the pressures of school and extracurricular activities. Or maybe our reading Harry Potter , The Girl Who Could Fly , and The Sisters Grimm to her. So, We are cutting down on the chocolate, putting on cooler pjs, and reading the I'm-sorry-Lucy-I-can't-read-this-because-I-can't-stop-laughing book, Clementine , by Sara Pennypacker. This is the Petit Nicolas of the English language. Thank goodness we have found it! Laurent used to tell her made up Harry Potter stories in the car, before she got the books. We may have to go back to

Alice Coltrane makes the harp cool

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 Happy New Year! And happy new viewing/listening recommendations... I have to admit that the harp makes me nervous, in that it's too often twee and ethereal, and I don't really think Lucy needs either of those qualities, having both in excess already. But then my friend Anurag pointed us to Alice Coltrane . Lucy sat and watched the entire nine minute jazz solo on the harp. She seemed to get it. And on other topics, I am feeling acquisitive. I want this painting of a girl with red, and this painting of a woman and a white wolf. Silly, since, I already have so many paintings lying around the house...

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