Wednesday, July 09, 2008

what a difference a day makes

july 5, 2008

july 6, 2008

july 7, 2008

july 8, 2008

july 9, 2008

it won't be long before i'm writing this blog
 from inside the "writing house" above.
i can't wait!!!

but first, i have to decide what color to paint it on the inside...

ahhh, luxury problems.

#3 - the grandest inquisitor

this week i'm writing each day about a person, place or thing that has had a big effect on my life. i'm going to be leaving aside parents, sister, husband and daughter because those are a given for having had a big effect and writing about that effect would be way more typing than i should do with the angry nerve in my left hand. 

i have had a lot of fun thinking about this assignment that i've given myself this week and yesterday was quite surprised where the thinking and the writing took me.  let's see what happens today. this is installment 3.

today, i know exactly who i want to write about, but not really where to begin.

time: late 80s-early 90s
place: large university in the midwest

after following the advice of my new age russian teacher in southern california to pursue my russian studies, i went back home to the midwest and enrolled in a russian program at a large state university. having had russian 101-2 as a night course, it wasn't long before i found myself in over my head in russian 201, so thanks to the kindness of two professors, after a few weeks, i was allowed to switch to russian 102. what a relief that was! not least because of the wonderful professor teaching the course, harry weber. his kindness and patience got me through and although i'm not sure i ever fully recovered my confidence where russian as a language was concerned--it was never easy for me, i just loved it passionately--he enabled me to think it was possible to keep doggedly pursuing it.

as is often the case in language departments, the professors teach both literature and the language itself, so where prof. weber came to mean so much to me was in a 19th century russian literature course. under his guidance, we did close readings of pushkin, turgenev, gogol, dostoevsky, tolstoy--all the biggies! and i felt a whole world opening up for me. i had actually read war & peace as a kid, mostly because i wanted to tackle such an enormous book. but harry opened up the whole historical, philosophical expanse of that baggy monster and i learned to appreciate it so much more. 

aside:  actually, i never really came to love tolstoy, he's so preachy and righteous that other than sebastopol sketches, i never really became a tolstoy person. and it might be that i got that from harry as well, because last year he admitted in an email that he never really liked tolstoy much either. i had asked him to help my sister, who was disturbed by reading anna karenina, see the redeeming qualities in that book and he said that he didn't really think there were any. which, in its own way was a comfort because it validated my sister's feelings about the book.

the 19th century lit course led to a course with prof. weber on tolstoy & dostoevsky. the highlight of that course was an intense couple of weeks on the brothers karamazov. i just looked at my dog-eared copy of it as i sat down to write this and just looking at the marginalia and highlighting and underlining i did at that time takes me back. i positively devoured brothers k--even reading 120 pages of it while driving (along a straight, sparsely trafficked interstate) because i simply couldn't put it down. in wanted to BE each brother in turn, tho' ivan was my favorite with his rationality and his intellect. i could relate to the desire to careen around manically following my emotions and obsessions like mitya and some part of me wished i could be good and pious like alyosha. the discussions we had on the course were intense and masterfully led and provoked by prof. weber. which is why i called this posting the grandest inquisitor...he asked questions and pushed us to explore answers and it opened up a whole world for us. or at least it did for me.

i loved reading before that, but in his courses and under his tutelage, i learned to love books and to appreciate them so much more deeply than i had previously. it's something that remains with me to this day and could only have been emparted by a wonderful teacher. i also learned that it was ok not to like some of the books. before that i had been intimidated into thinking that you MUST love all of the classics. harry taught me that that wasn't necessary.

there are two more books which harry opened my eyes to:  mikael bulgakov's master & margarita (where there is another encounter with the inquisitor, hmm, i might have to explore the implications of that another time) and andrei bitov's pushkin house. that was later in a graduate literature course. 

i'd already read master & margarita in 20th century russian lit, so the graduate course reading was a repeat. each student on the course had to present a book in turn and i was sure i'd get stuck with something i didn't want. i sat there, crossing my fingers that i'd get m&m and couldn't believe my luck when it was still available when it came to me.

i spent weeks preparing my presentation--fear of humiliation before my fellow graduate students overruling my normal inclination towards procrastination. i researched everything i could get my hands on that had been written about it and in the end settled on a bakhtinian reading of it as menippian satire. it was my first intense research project and i learned so much from it. i went in several times for guiding discussions and always came away feeling i'd been pushed by harry to find my own answers and thoughts. socratic method used subtly on me to help me grow as a scholar. only a fantastic teacher is truly able to do that.

bitov's pushkin house was the final book of the semester and it somehow spoke to me. it fit with the postmodern theory i was reading in another graduate course that semester, so i could read it through the lens of kristeva (arguably not postmodern, i realize, but a transition figure between structuralism and postmodernism, as i read her) and derrida. but perhaps it was simply a main character who felt fragmented and unreal in the face of the world around him was just something i could relate to as a 20-something graduate student who was struggling to come into her own. i wrote an essay on the book for the final exam and received an A+ from harry. it was one of those times when the pen was simply a conduit directly to my thoughts and my brain was in the zone. the question must have been a perfect one for me (i no long remember exactly what it was), again, the perfect question posed by the grandest of inquisitors.

harry is retired now, but i always go and visit him and his wife nellie when i'm back in the US. they are the kind of people, living the kind of life that husband and i aspire to when we reach their age. they are engaged with the world, well-traveled, thoughtful, wonderful conversationalists. we play cards with them when we're there. we laugh and laugh and tell stories and laugh some more. they are a joy to be around. i feel privileged to have had harry as my teacher and mentor and most importantly as my friend. 

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

making me smile this morning

i just got this book from amazon:

"it is well to remember that there are five reasons for drinking:
the arrival of a friend;
one's present or future thirst;
the excellence of the wine;
or any other reason."

--Ancient Latin saying

#2 - not what i thought it was going to be

this week i'm writing each day about a person, place or thing that has had a big effect on my life. i'm going to be leaving aside parents, sister, husband and daughter because those are a given for having had a big effect and writing about that effect would be way more typing than i should do with the angry nerve in my left hand.

when i was in junior high, at the height of ronald reagan's cold war escalation rhetoric, there was a made for t.v. movie starring jason robards called the day after. (leave it to a B movie actor to use a B movie as a medium for his propaganda.) it was, looking back, prototypical cold war propaganda, and basically showed kansas being nuked off the map by the evil russians. i'd been to kansas and while it wasn't my favorite place in the world, it was a little too much like the flat prairie, amber waves of grain of my home state for comfort. and the movie called attention to the fact that where i was growing up was probably in some danger...within fallout range of strategic air command near omaha, nebraska.

the movie made a big impression on me and for years afterwards, i imagined that somewhere in russia was a girl who looked a whole lot like me and if we could just talk to each other and get to know one another, then all that cold war mumbo jumbo wouldn't really be necessary.

so, years later, when i got the chance to take an evening class in russian at a community college, i jumped at it. i was still idealistically picturing my "sister" in russia as i slaved over the cyrillic alphabet and all those cases...accusative, genitive, dative...i still shudder a bit thinking of those. by then, reagan was in the last stages of his presidency...the bits he didn't really remember anyway, and nancy was running the country together with her astrologer (which in retrospect, wasn't really so bad).

that whole zeitgeist fit nicely with the very spiritual, authentic, red-haired russian woman who was teaching my evening course. i loved her. she loved shirley maclaine's spiritual journey, which was so in vogue at the time, and made dramatic declarations about the future of people in the course. hers for me was that she could feel that i should keep studying russian, that it was my destiny. i was 19 and looking for my destiny, so i thought, "why not?" i was a bit romantic on the notion of russian anyway, so it was as good a destiny as any. within a few short years, i found myself with bachelor's and master's degrees in, you guessed it, russian. self-fulfilling destiny?

i even found myself in the middle of russia, standing at a bus stop together with some friends, waiting to go out to their dacha, when an old man came up and asked me and my friend aida if we were indeed sisters, just as i had suspected all along! i really did have a "sister" in russia and if we just knew one another and could talk, we wouldn't need all that cold war mumbo jumbo.

you may think this story ends there, but i'm not really to that influential person yet.

not long after that, i was in a literary theory course (pursuing yet another master's, i just couldn't seem to get enough). we had to write weekly 1-2 page essays on our reading assignments. being a good marxist (since the only ones left by that time were in american universities), i found a way to weave the evils of capitalism and trickle down economic policies into my reactions to the readings week after week. finally, the professor scrawled in the margin of one essay, "you make me feel old. it's clear that ronald reagan is really the defining president for you."

and that's why that as much as i am loathe to admit it, ronald reagan, B movie actor turned president, is one of my 5 big influences. even if it was an influence borne of loathing, it still significantly guided the direction of my life.

epilogue (or is it actually prologue?): i can still remember when he was shot in 1981, it was semester test time at school and we were about to be dismissed for the day when they made an announcement over the loudspeakers that the president had been shot. i asked a tad too hopefully, "is he dead?" and my teacher, clearly a staunch republican, flew into a rage and made the entire class stay after school because of my disrespectful comment regarding the president. already then, he was effecting my life. at that point, i didn't really imagine just how much.

Monday, July 07, 2008

inspiration on a monday

images i love from this morning's visit to luberon:

rusty old french bottle carrier

old metal bed frames

rustic roof tiles

colorful tiles

what is it that's just so appealing about rust?

#1 - Susie, horse trainer extraordinaire

this week i'm writing each day about a person, place or thing that has had a big effect on my life. i'm going to be leaving aside parents, sister, husband and daughter because those are a given for having had a big effect and writing about that effect would be way more typing than i should do with the angry nerve in my left hand. 

so, i start with susie.  

i grew up showing horses. i think i was sent into the showring with merrylegs, my little dapple grey pony, clad in the cutest little red and black pants, at about the age of 4. i had no idea what i was doing but it was a halter class so no real harm could come of that. merrylegs was a good pony and i walked out with a big shiny blue trophy (that's no doubt still somewhere in my parents' basement). probably just because we were so darn cute.

i graduated from local shows to quarter horse shows and even had a few years in the rough and tumble rodeo world (as rough and tumble as 4-H rodeos can get)--what i most recall about those was a vast quantity of mud. then, we got paints and pintos and started going to the state association shows.  

we did it all--from showmanship to english pleasure to western pleasure, trail, reining and western riding--even barrels and poles if we were going for the all-around award. i had a lot of horses during those years...bee's star bar, i'm a susie bar, jolene, keelo kandy, tickleweed, spooky, skip's galley lad, top hand, switch, chilli's hot stuff, kitty, ted, suzie q, fred and especially sary (more about her later).

at the black hills pinto shows, i first encountered susie. she was a trainer, showing other people's horses and doing it well. she was dressed smarter than anyone else and in the black hills pinto association, they had settled on their number at the beginning of the year.  aside: you always have a number on your back when you show, since the judge doesn't know you, so you can be called on when you win, of course. :-)  susie's number was 222 and she had made beautiful versions of it in oval and heart shapes in black or green to match all of her outfits. i was in awe. and so wanted to be 222 at any show where susie wasn't there.

she also showed paints and her own mare, diamond h pansy, was my very dream of a horse (i eventually owned her sister, diamond h suzie q). susie was showing her at the same time as i showed skip's galley lad. i think one of the horses susie showed was the association's all around horse the same year (was in 1982?) that i was all around youth with skip's galley lad. 

but it wasn't until i got Indians Adversary, a handsome bay tobiano mare, that i actually started to work with susie. it was a dream come true for me! the folks sent me to live with susie out near the black hills (263 miles from home) for that summer. i actually slept in the living quarters of the big horse trailer that summer, since susie and her husband and son lived in a little trailer house and there wasn't really room for me. 

i learned so much--not only about handling my horse, but the whole spectrum. i probably grew up more and got to know myself better during those 3 months than at any other time in my life. i wasn't allowed to be the little snot hot-shot who was there to work with the trainer. no, a big part of what i did was muck stalls and move bales and sacks of grain. i got up early to feed. i learned to appreciate the soothing sound of a horse crunching grain in the early morning and the quality of the light and quiet that an early summer morning has.

i got kicked by a horse named TJ and had such a solid hoof-shaped bruise on my leg that you could read the brand of the shoe in the bruise. i learned about medicating and worming horses that needed it. and i worked with not only my own horse, but some of the others susie had in training. lunging them and hosing them down after a workout. in short, i really learned about hard work and how it was essential to achievement. i did that by soaping saddles and cleaning equipment, as well as by training for hours every day with my own horse.

we showed all over the upper midwest that summer--hauling off somewhere every weekend--colorado, wyoming, nebraska, kansas, oklahoma, and of course south dakota. we changed flat tires (two on the trailer on the way to longmont). we laughed. we sang in the car--dead skunk was especially popular. we ate junk food and great food in nice restaurants. we were dog tired at the end of days. we drove hundreds of miles. and we won lots of ribbons and points. i achieved my youth championship and my mare beat the world champion in one halter class in wyoming. i had moments of pride and moments of disappointment and i learned from susie to handle both gracefully.

when we were at home, susie taught me to make chinese food. i learned how to cut out a new pair of chaps. i upgraded my show clothes under her influence--she always had style where that was concerned. i learned so much that summer--all of which has translated into a life lived unafraid of trying new things and acceptance of the hard work that goes behind success. it was the experience of a lifetime.

there were other summers that i was back there with other horses, but none really could compare to that first summer i spent with susie and my horse sary. the picture below is from one of those later summers:

that's susie seated on the director's chair in the middle.
my sister on king frederik on the left.
suzie q and me on king kitty next.
and some of the others who susie worked with on down the line.

i'm very grateful for the lessons i learned from susie that summer, they have served me well throughout my life ever since. i'm not sure she was consciously or intentionally teaching me about myself, or maybe she was. but whatever the case was, i learned so much. today she would probably be called a life coach and be able to charge thousands for the lessons. :-) but i think what she really did was teach me by example and i came to think that life lived any other way wasn't an option. i was privileged to have had the opportunity to work with her. thank you susie!

Sunday, July 06, 2008

i love this picture

it's clear that sabin's doing just fine on her visit to the states.
here with her cousin owen in the cousin's tractor in south dakota.
i wonder if there were seat belts up there...