I created two videos for the student sessions presentations. They've been sent to a number of people to enjoy and watch. The videos will hopefully contribute to promoting the ACA's student opportunities.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
archive: 25 october 2007: understanding
Maybe one of the things that motivates me to want to help someone else come out of their own hole, their own sunken ship, is that I have been in the same position. How can one help another in this way? One is that both come out with the strengths and encouragement of the other, but as long as neither berates oneself for long about faults and flaws. The only problem is that scenerio is all too optimistic and very often unrealistic. As much as I would like to help someone see that they can do so much more and be happier with oneself... As much as I would like to say over and over again, "you're intelligent; you're attractive; if you'd just get up and go get what you want, you'll be happier."
I know the same applies to me. It doesn't take others telling me that I need to bring myself out of this rut. No, it takes me noticing that someone else I care about is very much in a similar spot, and although I am sympathetic and wish him the best, I cannot do much more than that. He will have to do it himself. And the same goes for me.
That's all for now...
I know the same applies to me. It doesn't take others telling me that I need to bring myself out of this rut. No, it takes me noticing that someone else I care about is very much in a similar spot, and although I am sympathetic and wish him the best, I cannot do much more than that. He will have to do it himself. And the same goes for me.
That's all for now...
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
archive: 23 october 2007: recent quotes
I watched a movie I have always liked a lot again last night... I knew there were some quotes in it I appreciated at one time and needed to read again...
"We must assume our existence as broadly as we in any way can; everything, even the unheard-of, must be possible in it. That is at bottom the only courage that is demanded of us: to have courage for the most strange, the most singular and the most inexplicable that we may encounter. That mankind has in this sense been cowardly has done life endless harm; the experiences that are called "visions," the whole so-called "spirit-world," death, all those things that are so closely akin to us, have by daily parrying been so crowded out of life that the senses with which we could have grasped them are atrophied. To say nothing of God. But fear of the inexplicable has not alone impoverished the existence of the individual; the relationship between one human being and another has also been cramped by it, as though it had been lifted out of the riverbed of endless possibilities and set down in a fallow spot on the bank, to which nothing happens. For it is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in Poe's stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode. We, however, are not prisoners. No traps or snares are set about us, and there is nothing which should intimidate or worry us. We are set down in life as in the element to which we best correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abuses belong to us; are dangers at hand, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those ancient myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." - Rainer Maria Rilke
"We don't see things as they are; We see things as we are." - Anais Nin
"We don't click in any ways... We don't have chemistry or banter or common interests... You don't appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet. You don't understand irony, or ethnicity, or eccentricity, or poetry, or the simple joy of being a regular at the diner on your block. I love that. You don't drink coffee or alcohol. You don't over eat. You don't cry when you're alone. You don't understand sarcasm. You plod through life in a neat, colorless, caffeine free, dairy free, conflict free way. I'm bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when someone has changed their hair part, or when someone is wearing two very distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural timber of their voice on the phone. I don't give out empty praise. I'm not complacent or well-adjusted. I can't spend fifty minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself. I can't spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my answering machine nine times every day and I can't sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world, and I wonder every day if I am making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me, or if I will remain forever paralyzed by the muddled madness inside my head. I've wept on every birthday I've ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people in certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time. The rest of the time I adore myself and I adore my life in this city and in this world we live in. This huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world. ...In these ways I feel that we do not click." - from Kissing Jessica Stein, written by Heather Juergensen & Jennifer Westfeldt
"We must assume our existence as broadly as we in any way can; everything, even the unheard-of, must be possible in it. That is at bottom the only courage that is demanded of us: to have courage for the most strange, the most singular and the most inexplicable that we may encounter. That mankind has in this sense been cowardly has done life endless harm; the experiences that are called "visions," the whole so-called "spirit-world," death, all those things that are so closely akin to us, have by daily parrying been so crowded out of life that the senses with which we could have grasped them are atrophied. To say nothing of God. But fear of the inexplicable has not alone impoverished the existence of the individual; the relationship between one human being and another has also been cramped by it, as though it had been lifted out of the riverbed of endless possibilities and set down in a fallow spot on the bank, to which nothing happens. For it is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in Poe's stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode. We, however, are not prisoners. No traps or snares are set about us, and there is nothing which should intimidate or worry us. We are set down in life as in the element to which we best correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abuses belong to us; are dangers at hand, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those ancient myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." - Rainer Maria Rilke
"We don't see things as they are; We see things as we are." - Anais Nin
"We don't click in any ways... We don't have chemistry or banter or common interests... You don't appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet. You don't understand irony, or ethnicity, or eccentricity, or poetry, or the simple joy of being a regular at the diner on your block. I love that. You don't drink coffee or alcohol. You don't over eat. You don't cry when you're alone. You don't understand sarcasm. You plod through life in a neat, colorless, caffeine free, dairy free, conflict free way. I'm bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when someone has changed their hair part, or when someone is wearing two very distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural timber of their voice on the phone. I don't give out empty praise. I'm not complacent or well-adjusted. I can't spend fifty minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself. I can't spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my answering machine nine times every day and I can't sleep at night because I feel that there is so much to do and fix and change in the world, and I wonder every day if I am making a difference and if I will ever express the greatness within me, or if I will remain forever paralyzed by the muddled madness inside my head. I've wept on every birthday I've ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people in certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary but also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time. The rest of the time I adore myself and I adore my life in this city and in this world we live in. This huge and wondrous, bewildering, brilliant, horrible world. ...In these ways I feel that we do not click." - from Kissing Jessica Stein, written by Heather Juergensen & Jennifer Westfeldt
Sunday, October 14, 2007
archive: 14 october 2007: mood swings
"Characteristics: Emotional charge and sensitivity increases. Do not get swept away by irritability, mood-swings, hysteria, big and small excitements, desire to quickly change everything. People tend to become more conscious of self and others, and see everything in dark tones.
It is a good time for self-analysis and self-improvement, correction of bad habits and shortcomings. When we improve, so does the world around us."
This is exactly how I have been feeling this weekend. Why don't I pay attention? Saturday and Sunday, all day, especially Saturday... I felt completely unwanted and disliked, unappreciated and forgotten. I expect too much of others doing as they said they would do. Just because I will try my best to do as I said I would, and if I can't I let those dependent on it know, doesn't mean others do. It just disappoints me when others don't do that. For me, it is a matter of respect and value of friendship, effort and care. That's why I do those things, and that's why I feel terrible when others let me down by not doing those things.
I guess I had better get used to people being this way, not believing them when they say they will do something. Then I can be surprised when they do follow through. But then I might get used to that. It is all easier said than done.
And then there's this matter of definition. How does one define friend, personally? There are many kinds of friends. It seems mine come and go quite easily. The close ones.... rare and very far between indeed.
It is a good time for self-analysis and self-improvement, correction of bad habits and shortcomings. When we improve, so does the world around us."
This is exactly how I have been feeling this weekend. Why don't I pay attention? Saturday and Sunday, all day, especially Saturday... I felt completely unwanted and disliked, unappreciated and forgotten. I expect too much of others doing as they said they would do. Just because I will try my best to do as I said I would, and if I can't I let those dependent on it know, doesn't mean others do. It just disappoints me when others don't do that. For me, it is a matter of respect and value of friendship, effort and care. That's why I do those things, and that's why I feel terrible when others let me down by not doing those things.
I guess I had better get used to people being this way, not believing them when they say they will do something. Then I can be surprised when they do follow through. But then I might get used to that. It is all easier said than done.
And then there's this matter of definition. How does one define friend, personally? There are many kinds of friends. It seems mine come and go quite easily. The close ones.... rare and very far between indeed.
Friday, October 12, 2007
archive: 12 october 2007: mama j you will be missed
One of my favorite teachers in high school was "Mama J." She was my yearbook teacher all four years and she encouraged me to pursue photography and magazine design. I continued with the photography but never went further with the design. She had this high pitched voice, was caring and attentive, but was quick to make sure no one walked on her either. I have one of her little water colors... I wrote her several times after I graduated undergrad and graduate school, just to let her know what I was up to and that I wished her well and wanted to know how she was doing. I need to find that water color at home, frame it, and put it on the wall.
-------------------
MADISON — A Madison woman has died following a two-car collision on I-55 this week.
Vera M. Jaeger, 74, of Madison was transported to the University of Mississippi Medical Center where she died of multiple trauma from injuries sustained in the wreck Tuesday, Madison County Coroner Alex Breeland said.
The wreck had noon traffic backed up along I-55 north for more than an hour.
Jaeger's Toyota Camry was struck by an 18-wheeler driven by Michael Ongley, 50, of Morton, Ill., after Jaeger reportedly attempted to switch into one lane then jerked back to the other, according to a news release from Madison police.
Ongley was not injured.
Witnesses told police that it appeared Jaeger had passed the 18-wheeler, which was in the center lane. She attempted to enter the far right lane, but another vehicle was there, so she attempted to go back to the center lane, according to the release. Witnesses said it appeared she had overcompensated.
The third vehicle was not hit.
No charges have been filed in the wreck, but police said they would be investigating it.
Vera Menning Jaeger, Madison, MS
Vera Menning "Billie" Jaeger, 73, a retired school teacher with Madison County Schools, died Tuesday, October 9, 2007 at University Medical Center in Jackson, Mississippi. Visitation is today at 1:00 p.m. at Ascension Lutheran Church in Jackson, Mississippi. Funeral services are 2:00 p.m. today at Ascension Lutheran Church in Jackson, Mississippi with burial in the Mark Seepe Crematorium, Jackson, Mississippi. Mark Seepe Funeral Directors & Crematorium in Jackson, Mississippi is handling the arrangements.
Vera was born in Karlsruhe, Germany, December 14, 1933 to Else and William Menning. She was a retired school teacher with Madison County Schools where she had taught computer programming, gifted student classes, and art. In addition to teaching high school computer, she was also a member of WRAMPS, a wildlife rescue organization, and was home to numerous "found" baby birds which she raised and released. After retiring, she began art classes and was a member of the Mississippi Artists Guild. She painted several canvases for friends and family, but never took money for any. She was a member of the Mystery Lover's Book Club and also attended water aerobic classes three times a week at Fitness Lady. She was a lifelong Lutheran and attended Ascension Lutheran Church, where she also sang in the choir.
Survivors include: daughters, Stephanie (Peter) Haddow of Madison, Patricia Jaeger of Salisbury, N.C., Susan (Mark) Crady of Titusville, Fla. and Barbara (Mike) Kent of Madison; grandchildren, Katherine and Arielle Shore, daughters of Stephanie; and Devon and Krysten Crady.
Published in the Clarion Ledger on 10/12/2007.
http://www.legacy.com/clarionledger/Obituaries.asp?Page=Lifestory&Pers..95985609
-------------------
MADISON — A Madison woman has died following a two-car collision on I-55 this week.
Vera M. Jaeger, 74, of Madison was transported to the University of Mississippi Medical Center where she died of multiple trauma from injuries sustained in the wreck Tuesday, Madison County Coroner Alex Breeland said.
The wreck had noon traffic backed up along I-55 north for more than an hour.
Jaeger's Toyota Camry was struck by an 18-wheeler driven by Michael Ongley, 50, of Morton, Ill., after Jaeger reportedly attempted to switch into one lane then jerked back to the other, according to a news release from Madison police.
Ongley was not injured.
Witnesses told police that it appeared Jaeger had passed the 18-wheeler, which was in the center lane. She attempted to enter the far right lane, but another vehicle was there, so she attempted to go back to the center lane, according to the release. Witnesses said it appeared she had overcompensated.
The third vehicle was not hit.
No charges have been filed in the wreck, but police said they would be investigating it.
Vera Menning Jaeger, Madison, MS
Vera Menning "Billie" Jaeger, 73, a retired school teacher with Madison County Schools, died Tuesday, October 9, 2007 at University Medical Center in Jackson, Mississippi. Visitation is today at 1:00 p.m. at Ascension Lutheran Church in Jackson, Mississippi. Funeral services are 2:00 p.m. today at Ascension Lutheran Church in Jackson, Mississippi with burial in the Mark Seepe Crematorium, Jackson, Mississippi. Mark Seepe Funeral Directors & Crematorium in Jackson, Mississippi is handling the arrangements.
Vera was born in Karlsruhe, Germany, December 14, 1933 to Else and William Menning. She was a retired school teacher with Madison County Schools where she had taught computer programming, gifted student classes, and art. In addition to teaching high school computer, she was also a member of WRAMPS, a wildlife rescue organization, and was home to numerous "found" baby birds which she raised and released. After retiring, she began art classes and was a member of the Mississippi Artists Guild. She painted several canvases for friends and family, but never took money for any. She was a member of the Mystery Lover's Book Club and also attended water aerobic classes three times a week at Fitness Lady. She was a lifelong Lutheran and attended Ascension Lutheran Church, where she also sang in the choir.
Survivors include: daughters, Stephanie (Peter) Haddow of Madison, Patricia Jaeger of Salisbury, N.C., Susan (Mark) Crady of Titusville, Fla. and Barbara (Mike) Kent of Madison; grandchildren, Katherine and Arielle Shore, daughters of Stephanie; and Devon and Krysten Crady.
Published in the Clarion Ledger on 10/12/2007.
http://www.legacy.com/clarionledger/Obituaries.asp?Page=Lifestory&Pers..95985609
Thursday, October 11, 2007
archive: 11 october 2007: familiar faces and banjo learning
It keeps dawning on me I look an awful lot like my Dad when I smile really big... Its more noticeable then how my eyes are also like his (though green when his were light blue) and the nose - bridge bump and all - is his also. If I grew a beard and mustache I would look practically just like him. haha
When my dad was a young man I think he was good looking, but at 63 years old he was old, tired, ragged. That is how I remember him most. I also remember those nights of arguing with Mom after he'd gone out drinking till he was belligerent. Those are not favorable memories. But that look, that appearance is how I see myself in the mirror.
----
Side note:
I bookmarked maybe 30 websites tonight dealing with clawhammer and old-time banjo music. I saved a bunch of tab sheets and music files for easy banjo tunes. Going to listen to them when I get home and might try learning a few this weekend....
OR
I might figure out how and what I am going to make for my mom and sister for Christmas. Possibly also think about something for a few friends, too. I keep thinking large scale but I know I need to stay small scale. I can't afford to overdo it. haha!
When my dad was a young man I think he was good looking, but at 63 years old he was old, tired, ragged. That is how I remember him most. I also remember those nights of arguing with Mom after he'd gone out drinking till he was belligerent. Those are not favorable memories. But that look, that appearance is how I see myself in the mirror.
----
Side note:
I bookmarked maybe 30 websites tonight dealing with clawhammer and old-time banjo music. I saved a bunch of tab sheets and music files for easy banjo tunes. Going to listen to them when I get home and might try learning a few this weekend....
OR
I might figure out how and what I am going to make for my mom and sister for Christmas. Possibly also think about something for a few friends, too. I keep thinking large scale but I know I need to stay small scale. I can't afford to overdo it. haha!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
archive: 10 october 2007: madison
Gluckstadt, Canton, Madison, Ridgeland: Madison County, Mississippi
Berea, Richmond: Madison County, Kentucky
? Mars Hill, Marshall, Hot Springs: Madison County, North Carolina ?
Connections:
I was born in Jacksonville, NC (which is on the East Coast of the state, but still.)
I grew up mostly in Madison County, MS.
My family tree branches down from England and Ireland to Virginia, then Western Kentucky, Bowling Green and Glasgow area.
My first archival job was in Madison County, KY.
Now I have the opportunity to apply for a position in the next few months in Madison County, NC.
Coincidences? Random? Fate? Meant to be? Who knows?
Berea, Richmond: Madison County, Kentucky
? Mars Hill, Marshall, Hot Springs: Madison County, North Carolina ?
Connections:
I was born in Jacksonville, NC (which is on the East Coast of the state, but still.)
I grew up mostly in Madison County, MS.
My family tree branches down from England and Ireland to Virginia, then Western Kentucky, Bowling Green and Glasgow area.
My first archival job was in Madison County, KY.
Now I have the opportunity to apply for a position in the next few months in Madison County, NC.
Coincidences? Random? Fate? Meant to be? Who knows?
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