(2 blog posts in 2 days? I must be ill)
In a previous blog post, I talked about the concept that, as a solo unit, I can do what I like when I like and so I'm quite productive.
This is quite interesting to re-read now, when I'm in a place where I am putting quite a lot of work into being not solo any more and maybe making that a long-term arrangement.
There is trouble a-brewed between my 'single source of future' and she-who-does-not-have-a-blog-nickname, as one might expect. (I think the problem has largely been de-brewed, btw). It was very difficult to relinquish my stranglehold on the future and deliberately and, without any sense of confidence that I would agree, let someone else decide.
The next difficulty is trying to convince the decider, that though I don't agree necessarily, I support any decision made. This usually leads to attempting to convince me to agree, which I feel is moot at that point.
The physical energy piece is also an interesting one that has re-occurred, and that will need some management in the future. I remain able to do 6-8 hours of physical labour in the course of a day, and don't particularly enjoy having to stop. I don't want to change this, but I want it to not cause any distress. Mostly it doesn't.
Anyway, back to defensive driving class!
17.8.10
16.8.10
Muses (first draft)
(Note: I did not make a "Musing on Muses" pun. This is rare)
From Wikipedia: "Three ancient Muses were also reported in Plutarch's Quaestiones Conviviviales (9.I4.2-4).[5] The Roman scholar Varro relates that there are only three Muses: one who is born from the movement of water, another who makes sound by striking the air, and a third, who is embodied only in the human voice. However the Classical understanding of the muses tripled their triad, set at nine goddesses, who embody the arts and inspire creation with their graces through remembered and improvised song and stage, writing, traditional music, and dance."
It is clear that the Classical understanding is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Going back to the source, Varro, we will examine his three Muses:
"One is born from the movement of water". The movement of water, also known as the Hydrologic Cycle. Plutarch has not documented a graceful figure who trips lightly from rock to rock like the current of a stream in a beer ad causing artists to leap to their easels and create paintings using light tripping brush strokes or musicians to dot the staves with tiny effervescent symbols of sound; he has documented an unending pattern of repeating inspiration: 'Have you finished Hell yet, Dante? How 'bout now? You promised it to the Papal Legate three weeks ago. Are you working on it right now? You should work on it now. This is going to be like the Convivio again, isn't it? Why aren't you working on it right now?"
"One who makes sound by striking the air". This Muse is throwing punches!. Possibly also throwing crockery. The only reasonable explanation for why she is striking the air is that she is missing the artist. Lucky fellow. This muse is not a willowy figure flitting among the daisies; this muse is armed with a wallpaper sponge and about 8 milliseconds of patience. Not getting that aria finished, Giacomo? WHIIIIIZZZZ goes the wallpaper sponge, just over your head. You bet it'll get done. Trouble with the theory of relativity, Al? ZOOOOOOOOM, right in front of your face with the ol' sponge again. Inspiration better strike before she does, 'cause she's angry!
"One who is embodied only in the human voice" Ooh, you're a young artist, I bet you'd love a lilting voice singing Enya songs to inspire you, wouldn't you? has it occurred to you that the human voice can be used in some other ways? What you're getting, my friend, is the muse of shouting. You'll be locked in some quandary about what finger God is using to impart awesomeness to man, and you'll hear "WHY ISN'T THIS CEILING PAINTED YET, MICHAEL?" And of course, the reason she's embodied only in the voice is that you never get a chance to see her coming; she is invisible. If you're very lucky, you might get to hear the key in the door or the click of the latch before the 'inspiration' starts.
Old Varro there, he was smart. And he knew that artists, by and large, aren't. So he told them thus, "Guys, you want to be inspired and meet your potential? Find a partner who will not give up reminding you what you're supposed to be doing, has a strong pitching arm but the courtesy to not brain you without a warning shot, and who will have zero patience for your fits of artistic pique"
Lucky fellows, them artists!
From Wikipedia: "Three ancient Muses were also reported in Plutarch's Quaestiones Conviviviales (9.I4.2-4).[5] The Roman scholar Varro relates that there are only three Muses: one who is born from the movement of water, another who makes sound by striking the air, and a third, who is embodied only in the human voice. However the Classical understanding of the muses tripled their triad, set at nine goddesses, who embody the arts and inspire creation with their graces through remembered and improvised song and stage, writing, traditional music, and dance."
It is clear that the Classical understanding is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Going back to the source, Varro, we will examine his three Muses:
"One is born from the movement of water". The movement of water, also known as the Hydrologic Cycle. Plutarch has not documented a graceful figure who trips lightly from rock to rock like the current of a stream in a beer ad causing artists to leap to their easels and create paintings using light tripping brush strokes or musicians to dot the staves with tiny effervescent symbols of sound; he has documented an unending pattern of repeating inspiration: 'Have you finished Hell yet, Dante? How 'bout now? You promised it to the Papal Legate three weeks ago. Are you working on it right now? You should work on it now. This is going to be like the Convivio again, isn't it? Why aren't you working on it right now?"
"One who makes sound by striking the air". This Muse is throwing punches!. Possibly also throwing crockery. The only reasonable explanation for why she is striking the air is that she is missing the artist. Lucky fellow. This muse is not a willowy figure flitting among the daisies; this muse is armed with a wallpaper sponge and about 8 milliseconds of patience. Not getting that aria finished, Giacomo? WHIIIIIZZZZ goes the wallpaper sponge, just over your head. You bet it'll get done. Trouble with the theory of relativity, Al? ZOOOOOOOOM, right in front of your face with the ol' sponge again. Inspiration better strike before she does, 'cause she's angry!
"One who is embodied only in the human voice" Ooh, you're a young artist, I bet you'd love a lilting voice singing Enya songs to inspire you, wouldn't you? has it occurred to you that the human voice can be used in some other ways? What you're getting, my friend, is the muse of shouting. You'll be locked in some quandary about what finger God is using to impart awesomeness to man, and you'll hear "WHY ISN'T THIS CEILING PAINTED YET, MICHAEL?" And of course, the reason she's embodied only in the voice is that you never get a chance to see her coming; she is invisible. If you're very lucky, you might get to hear the key in the door or the click of the latch before the 'inspiration' starts.
Old Varro there, he was smart. And he knew that artists, by and large, aren't. So he told them thus, "Guys, you want to be inspired and meet your potential? Find a partner who will not give up reminding you what you're supposed to be doing, has a strong pitching arm but the courtesy to not brain you without a warning shot, and who will have zero patience for your fits of artistic pique"
Lucky fellows, them artists!
11.8.10
Blogula!
Count Blogula, the undead blog, rises from the grave!
Since we last spoke, here's the various scoops:
My house remains obstinately on the ground, foiled by 'Audrey' at the Planning department of Prairie Metropolis. See, my house is so close to the house next door that the City would very much like it if the houses were torn down and replaced with something spaced a little farther apart. As of this morning, The Contractor and I, who are in constant contact, believe we are leaping the last hurdle even now. The main bone of confusion seems to be that the City thinks I am raising the house to a new level, when in fact, I am lowering it. Kinda.
I am continuing to live with She Who Does Not Have A Blog Nickname, and that is going very well. The condo is no bigger than it was, but that's ok, too. I do really miss living in Isambard, but that will come back in its time too. I am 100% aware of the stress that moving into that house may cause her, but I'm gonna make that play nonetheless when the time is right!
There is much to do on renovating it on the inside before that can happen, anyway, so
there's not a huge rush.
UPDATE: Audrey, the cruel empress of planning, has relinquished the house, and I am informed that we are marching forward. More details to follow.
Since we last spoke, here's the various scoops:
My house remains obstinately on the ground, foiled by 'Audrey' at the Planning department of Prairie Metropolis. See, my house is so close to the house next door that the City would very much like it if the houses were torn down and replaced with something spaced a little farther apart. As of this morning, The Contractor and I, who are in constant contact, believe we are leaping the last hurdle even now. The main bone of confusion seems to be that the City thinks I am raising the house to a new level, when in fact, I am lowering it. Kinda.
I am continuing to live with She Who Does Not Have A Blog Nickname, and that is going very well. The condo is no bigger than it was, but that's ok, too. I do really miss living in Isambard, but that will come back in its time too. I am 100% aware of the stress that moving into that house may cause her, but I'm gonna make that play nonetheless when the time is right!
There is much to do on renovating it on the inside before that can happen, anyway, so
there's not a huge rush.
UPDATE: Audrey, the cruel empress of planning, has relinquished the house, and I am informed that we are marching forward. More details to follow.
Labels:
Isambard,
relationships
14.6.10
Cohabitating, part... I don't know... 7?
A few more things I've noted:
1) Three cats produce approximately 1/2 a litre of hair a week. On laminate flooring, it 'pools' together due to the air stirred up by the passage of people, and fifth floor wind gusts.
2) It's really nice to live with someone who does laundry the same way you do. It's a huge thing-that-isn't-stressful.
3) Apartments are really small. The kitchens are small, the bedrooms are small, the living room is-- actually, pretty big.
4) Getting into the routines is a constant source of negootiation. Grocery buying the first time was a bit of a hassle, trying to buy groceries for two. I've evolved a somewhat strange style of grocery buying the last two years, based on gettign generic staples and some basic ingredients, THEN basing my menus on what I have. Turns otu there's a large body of folks what do it differently! Apparently you can buy gorciers by starting with the the menu THEN buying corresponding groceries.
Weird....
1) Three cats produce approximately 1/2 a litre of hair a week. On laminate flooring, it 'pools' together due to the air stirred up by the passage of people, and fifth floor wind gusts.
2) It's really nice to live with someone who does laundry the same way you do. It's a huge thing-that-isn't-stressful.
3) Apartments are really small. The kitchens are small, the bedrooms are small, the living room is-- actually, pretty big.
4) Getting into the routines is a constant source of negootiation. Grocery buying the first time was a bit of a hassle, trying to buy groceries for two. I've evolved a somewhat strange style of grocery buying the last two years, based on gettign generic staples and some basic ingredients, THEN basing my menus on what I have. Turns otu there's a large body of folks what do it differently! Apparently you can buy gorciers by starting with the the menu THEN buying corresponding groceries.
Weird....
27.5.10
Guinea pigs.
Dear sir or madam,
Should we meet, I a civilized man of some taste and distinction, and
you, a person who poisons guinea pigs, I will punch you in the cock.
In the interim, I remain,
Yours truly,
The Stealthy Dachshund.
Should we meet, I a civilized man of some taste and distinction, and
you, a person who poisons guinea pigs, I will punch you in the cock.
In the interim, I remain,
Yours truly,
The Stealthy Dachshund.
--
Sent from my mobile device
26.5.10
Living together more
I don't fight well. It's not a skill I have developed. But I tell ya, I'm developing it now.
Here's what I've learned:
The fight is never about what it is about. It's about something else. That doesn't mwean it's a bad thing, but you haev to get through the small stuff to get to the big stuff (that's usually also not that big)
The faster you fight, the faster it's over. Get it done. Yesterday, there was a fight that would have taken... 4 days or so in a previous life, becuase of my efforts to avoid it. Last night, diving in, it toook ten minutes.
Because the fight is not about what you think it is about, you never actually lose. Say you don't like barstools. Your partner wants to buy 12 of them. So you fight about it. You're not going to lose that fight, even if you get the barstools, because it's not about barstools; it's about... oh, let's say... not being listened to. After the fight, you'll have been listened to, and you won't care about barstools.
And so it goes.
I've also learned that cat hair builds up faster in 800 sq.ft. than it does in 1800 sq.ft.
Here's what I've learned:
The fight is never about what it is about. It's about something else. That doesn't mwean it's a bad thing, but you haev to get through the small stuff to get to the big stuff (that's usually also not that big)
The faster you fight, the faster it's over. Get it done. Yesterday, there was a fight that would have taken... 4 days or so in a previous life, becuase of my efforts to avoid it. Last night, diving in, it toook ten minutes.
Because the fight is not about what you think it is about, you never actually lose. Say you don't like barstools. Your partner wants to buy 12 of them. So you fight about it. You're not going to lose that fight, even if you get the barstools, because it's not about barstools; it's about... oh, let's say... not being listened to. After the fight, you'll have been listened to, and you won't care about barstools.
And so it goes.
I've also learned that cat hair builds up faster in 800 sq.ft. than it does in 1800 sq.ft.
21.5.10
More cohabitating.
I have learned another thing.
I don't clean 'cause I think I should. I don't clean 'cause I think it will make the people around me happy. I don't clean because I'm a neat person.
I clean because it makes me feel good.
It's a drug.
I don't clean 'cause I think I should. I don't clean 'cause I think it will make the people around me happy. I don't clean because I'm a neat person.
I clean because it makes me feel good.
It's a drug.
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