I can't get any satisfaction.

You know that song, that goes, "Now there's two less lonely people, two less lonely people in the world, tooooniiiiight"?

It should really be "two fewer lonely people."

Just sayin'.

Next weekend: Santa Barbra. Streisand.

I had an amazing weekend. I had a gig in Santa Barbara on Saturday night, so I spent the whole weekend there. Beautifullllllllll! Over the couple of days I was there, I managed to: see three movies. play tennis twice. read one book. play Guitar Hero. eat delicious meals, spend time with lovely people, go for a gorgeous walk, play with a cute dog, hold a lizard in my hand, enjoy a tour of SB that included the whale skeleton! And you know, do my gig.

More like that, please.

WAIT, THIS NEVER GOT POSTED BACK WHEN I POSTED IT??

"...the language of design, architecture, and urbanism in Los Angeles is the language of movement. Mobility outweighs monumentality there to a unique degree... and the city will never be fully understood by those who cannot move fluently through its diffuse urban texture, cannot go with the flow of its unprecedented life. So, like earlier generations of English intellectuals who taught themselves Italian in order to read Dante in the original, I learned to drive in order to read Los Angeles in the original.”

- Reyner Banham, Los Angeles: The Four Ecologies



If I had a tumblr, I'd have reblogged this from Hillel Aron. But I don't.

What I love best about this is... ok, there are a million things I love about this, but one of those many things is that it's true: Reyner Banham had never driven before he moved here.

Punksatauni? Punxatawnee? Punxsutawney?

My dear friend Aloni is spending a semester in Hungary. Today is his birthday, so why don't you mosey over to Aloni's Blogna and wish him a good one?

An awesome summary of my blog, which I just noticed in October and then blogged and then forgot to post until now:

"Director of Dance reviews books and her crazy life"



Thanks, Sickness Cinema!

Services available; great rates. Inquire within.

From the "waste books" of Georg Christoph Lichtenberg:

The detection of small errors has always been the property of minds elevated little or not at all above the mediocre; notably elevated minds remain silent or say something only in criticism of the whole, while the great spirits refrain from censuring and only create.

Mark Twin, in 1893:

In the first place God made idiots. This was for practice. Then he made proof-readers.

On the other hand, Rabbi Akiba (Talmud: Pesahim, 112a) said:

When you teach your son, use a carefully edited text.

You do it by doing it?

I'm trying to will myself into writing again. There's lots I want to say, but lately I've been unable to say it. We'll start with a summary of 2011. Perhaps after that we'll have a short summary of 2010.

So far in 2011 I have:

-had a short run-in with Restless Legs Syndrome. It was cured by a couple of sleeping pills and my First Migraine Ever.

-gone to Ramah Rikkudiah, a dance camp I've attended every year since I moved to CA. I had a GREAT time, in fact one of the best times I've had at a dance camp in many years. (For an alternate (and more theatrical) take on that camp, see Aloni's Blogna.)

-read (or finished reading) a few books, including Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, the Bhagavad-Gita, finally, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, and Into The Wild by Jon Krakauer. If you're going to buy anything at all on amazon.com, would you do me a favor and use one of those links to get there? If you do, I get some small monetary reward and I looooove small monetary rewards. Especially when they are book-related.

-led dancing at the birthday party of the cutest sweetest four-year-old boy ever.

-went to "Gospel Shabbat" at a temple in the Valley. Fun, but didn't feel the least bit Jewish to me.

-saw Diavolo Dance Theater in Santa Monica. Incredible, breath-taking, awe-inspiring works.

-went to an international folkdance, and had my usual yes-I-teach-dance-but-I-used-to-do-other-things stance turned back on me. When someone asks what I do for a living, I usually rush to mention my years in software before becoming a dance teacher, because of that part of me that seems to feel teaching dance isn't "enough", whatever that means. At this dance last night, however, we were all dancers and dance teachers, and when someone asked me what I do to pay the bills, I was the object of all envy when I said I "just" teach folkdance. A good reminder. I get paid to do something I love. That's altogether too rare, I'd say, and I should remember how fabulous that is, even if I happen to also be missing some other things I love. That doesn't need to detract from the joy I get from my job.

-got trained to be a reading tutor for Koreh LA. I've apparently been placed with a first-grader and we can start meeting as soon as my personal references are in. This should be a pretty interesting experience, no?

It's been a decent 23 days. Lots going on in the next few months, possibly including a trip to Israel. I reallllly want to go... and am not at all sure it'd be a good idea for me to go.

It was evening all afternoon.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
by Wallace Stevens

I

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII

O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII

I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Sidereal: of, relating to, or expressed in relation to stars or constellations; astral

Tonight I went to Poets of the American West, 1910-2010, the Poetry Society of America's Centennial Celebration at the Hammer Museum. Five poets read poems of their own and of their favorite poets of the region from the past century.

I was scared it would be pretentious argle-bargle, as the girls of Cable210 would say, but it wasn't. It wasn't pretentious at all. It was beautiful, if a little bit boring.

Wanda Coleman read first, and she read poetry the way poetry is meant to be read. I had never heard poetry read well until I went to college and my roommate read some to me (I am forever grateful to her for this). And then I got the In Their Own Voices: A Century of Recorded Poetry box set and my education continued... which brings me to wonder about education, and do English teachers have any idea how to read poetry? And does anyone today teach children how to read poetry? I mean this literally, how to read it aloud, how it's supposed to be said, not just understood. I know high school kids are made to read at least some small number of poems in English classes; the question is does anyone read them, perform them for the students? Certainly none of my own beloved English teachers ever did when I was in NY and then FL public schools. I loved English, I loved reading, I loved my teachers. I didn't even know they were falling down on this particular job.

Anyway, back to tonight. Wanda Coleman was awesome.

The best line I jotted down in Sharpie (where's my pen?) on the back of the Hammer Winter Calendar (where's my notebook?) was:
"I put my eyes on a diet, my tears are gaining too much weight", from "Heavy Water Blues" by Bob Kaufman, which has many more almost-but-not-quite-too-cute bits I liked.

Also:
Two jokes walk into a bar.

The emcee, ohemgee, accidentally pronounced Pasadena as though the n were an ñ. I may say it like that forever, starting now.

I learned two important things that I almost knew before but now really know:

0. CA poets are enthralled with the fires.

1. Modern poets love the word "Egyptologist".

There is a scarf for sale to benefit the Hammer Museum (It's a museum. What kind of museum? A hammer museum.) that says "DO ASK. DO TELL." I kind of like it.

As a performing dancer, I couldn't help noticing the dimensions of the stage and the physical layout of the theater. It was funny to me to see the entire thing used only for a small podium arranged on the far (audience) left of the stage. I mean, it's poetry. But on a stage.

In an art museum! Awesome.

Something someone said made me want to make one of those WANTED posters for Black Friday... like, the reward is offered, but TODAY ONLY, 50% OFF!!

Terry could do it and make it funny. I can't.


PS Better Book Titles is killing me right now. Litgeek humor, anyone?

A Running Year in Review; or, Yay Me.

We recently passed the one-year anniversary of my first marathon-training run - it was on Halloween, 2009.

I have run 4 marathons since that day, within about 9 months.

I have run over 383 miles since then. That's not a big number for a runner, but I'm not a runner; I'm a girl who decided to do a couple few several marathons. Four of those miles occurred after my last marathon, but I still don't really intend to do much more running. It's on to biking for me - much better for the knees!

An extremely important fact I'd like you to know: over the course of this whole temporary insanity, I have not lost even one toenail. None have turned black, ever. I hear constantly about this phenomenon and I just skipped it entirely, thank you.

I ran two of these marathons for friendship and two for charities. For the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society I raised over $5000. For the Blue Card Fund (for needy Holocaust survivors) I raised another $2500. If you helped make that happen, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The NYC marathon was a really hard one for me physically. I was tired, jetlagged, sick, and not well-trained. It was still a glorious day and it meant the world to me that my family came out to support me (did you see that amazing video???? I am so obsessed with it) and that a dear friend flew into town just to be there for me. I am so grateful and I will never forget it.

I posted my marathon playlist after the LA marathon and I won't repeat it, but I did add a few songs for this one, for example:
Go Go Erica Yaa Yeah / Goldma Family 1:25
(the audio from that video!!)

In honor of running NY:
The Only Living Boy In New York / Simon & Garfunkel 4:02
New York State Of Mind / Billy Joel 6:03
New York Mining Disaster / The Bee Gees 2:09
An Englishman In New York / Sting 4:27
New York City / They Might Be Giants 3:02
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) / Simon & Garfunkel 1:43
I kind of threw them into the mix wherever, without calculation, but don't you know THE 59TH STREET BRIDGE SONG CAME ON WHILE I WAS RUNNING ACROSS THE 59TH STREET BRIDGE!! Oh yes.

(Empire State of Mind (Jay-Z and Alicia Keys) was already on there)

And, in honor of having come straight from a yoga and mediation tour of India, a few mantras and related songs:
Mahamrityunjaya Mantra 4:28
Lokah Samasta 1:07
Om Tryambakam with Swami Vishnu-devananda 1:14
Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu 1:08
Gobinda Gobinda Hari Hari / Snatam Kaur Khalsa 10:47

And that's the end of my marathon career! Right?