1/11/08

Here it is Friday and again it has been several day's since either Mr. U or I have blogged. We were going to try and blog every day but that just doesn't look like it is going to happen, sorry people. See, at least we didn't make it one of our resolutions!

I have been chewing my fingernails ragged because I am going back to school full-time and I sign up for classes next week and I am still undecided about what my 2nd major is going to be! I am definitely going for my early childhood education and I was going for psychology but now I've changed my mind, again. I am an artist at heart and now I am thinking my 2nd degree should be related. I am thinking graphic design. Yes, I am doing a lot of thinking, thus no blogging. I couldn't decide between that and illustrator, but I think defintely graphic design. During the summers when I am not teaching I could work on my art and I would like to design book covers of all things. Eventually I am going to write and illustrate a series of childrens books. I have part of the stories worked out all ready in my head.

Well you all have been great listeners and it has helped me out a lot to talk to you about this dilemma and I want to thank you for your time.

OH! BTW Mr U. and I are attending the BSO tonight to hear Shostakovich and Dvorák. We will give you an update on our experience tomorrow, promise. I have a feeling it is going to be only ok. I LOVE Shost. and I like Dv. ok but to hear them together back to back might be a little weird. They end it with Mozart's Magic Flute Overture. I think someone was smoking a little something to to put these 3 together in a line up BUT we'll see.

1/8/08

A Poem

"Pirate"

When I imagine myself
A swashbuckling pirate
I think first of an eye patch
And some of those other cliches
Like a parrot perched on the shoulder
And then I think of
Throwing my head way back
And laughing heartily
Straight up toward the sky
For no apparent reason

But what were those pirates
Laughing about anyway?

I think it had something to do
With the eye patch
And the shoulder parrot
Because you have to admit
That is a pretty funny outfit
To be running around in
When such a big part of your job
Is to strike great fear in the hearts of men

© 2008 C.A. Patrick

1/7/08

Just Another Music Monday


"All I wanna do is (boom, boom, boom), and (click, ta-ching) and take your money."

In the words of Meat Beat Manifesto, "It's in my brain now," and I just can't get it out! If you don't recognize the above italicized lyric that's ok, I haven't really heard her on the radio either yet. But considering I only listen to the Hip Hop stations when my daughter is in a particularly tortuous mood she could be there and I just haven't heard her. By her I mean M.I.A.. I was just browsing on NPR, minding my own business and saw that they were reviewing her and so I decided to check it out. I played this song called Paper Planes and that was it, I was hooked.

Now I am not a huge fan of Hip Hop though I do like some club music. I remember back in the good ol' days living in Pittsburgh, finding an abandoned warehouse, raving until the early morning hours, drinking dixie cup after dixie cup of smart drinks(the legal kind). Despite that though I think that this M.I.A chick is wicked cool and as cute as a button to boot. Check out her video at her myspace website here. When you've listened to Paper Planes check out her Jimmy video next. It combines 70's disco with Bollywood India style music! I just love it!

Listening to her NPR interview left me very confused though. I liked her London brogue accent but I'm still not exactly sure what she said.......who cares because

"All I wanna do is (boom, boom, boom), and (click, ta-ching) and take your money."

1/6/08

Edward Hopper: Visionary or Infectious Mucous?

This past Saturday Mr. and Mrs. U visited the Edward Hopper exhibit at Washington D.C.'s National Gallery of Art and walked away with a not entirely uncharacteristic difference of artistic opinion.

Mrs. U Respectfully Declines

Before this exhibit I didn't know much about Hopper's work. I knew about one of his most famous paintings, Nighthawks, but that's about it. I was very excited to finally get a chance to see what NGA described as the "first comprehensive survey of Edward Hopper's career to be seen in American museums outside New York in more than 25 years." I mean, that's a big deal! I had friends who had already seen this exhibit and told me I would love it.

Boy, were they dead wrong.

Let me start off by saying that I recognize that Hopper was a great artist. His paintings, I also recognize intellectually, are also "great works of art." But let me tell you, by the time I had walked through that whole exhibit I felt like I had just taken a tour through Stephen King's world in The Stand after the Captain Trips disease just hit it. Unnerving images kept flying by of empty streets that should have been busy. There were houses with spooky windows and lone figures left behind in the aftermath. And constantly, there was the sickly green in so many of his paintings, like the green of death by infectious mucous. His paintings frightened me and left me grasping for Mr. U's hand so I knew that I really wasn't IN this apocalyptic world where I might run into that frightening zombie mask of a face in
Chop Suey.

There was but one saving grace in all of his paintings and that was his watercolors of houses and lighthouses. I loved how he painted the sunlight on architecture. Specifically, there were two I liked,
The Mansard Roof and Haskell's House. Even those have a creepy Amityville Horrorness about them though. Wait! Did I just see Norman Bates's mom look out of the upstairs window?
Mr. U's Respect is Reinforced

I have always had strong, favorable responses to the work of Edward Hopper, but until visiting his exhibit yesterday at the National Gallery of Art I never gave much thought to why - beyond the fact that I'm a depressive who is attracted to images of loneliness and isolation. But there is a great deal more to Hopper's work than his solitary people.

He was a master at capturing the interplay of shadows and light. He used them to detail his paintings like a lighting designer on a film set. Color is frequently of secondary importance to shading in establishing mood in Hopper's work. Were he a filmmaker, he would work most effectively in black and white. New York Movie, and Rooms for Tourists are fine examples among many others.

Like many of my favorite artists, Hopper sought to document the beauty of ordinary people and objects. Throughout his life in New York City he chose mundane storefronts, anonymous individuals and tiny corner cafes as his subjects despite the looming presence of monumental bridges and skyscrapers. Hopper was clearly uninterested in the obvious. He celebrated the joy and deep rewards that can only come from looking closely. See Automat, Gas, and Drug Store.

The only hindrance to my Hopper experience yesterday was the hundreds of people crowded into the exhibit with us. By the time we got to his later, more famous work the gallery was shoulder to shoulder with people and I felt like I was in line to ride Space Mountain, so we had to cut the visit a little short.

While in D.C. visiting the gallery, these license plates bewildered us. Taxation Without Representation? Was the local leadership mocking its consituency? Was the motor vehicle authority issuing satirical license plates? If so, I wanted in. Well, it turns out that residents of Washington D.C. really are taxed without being represented. Check out this
article.


1/3/08

Theme Free Thursday

The Iowa Caucus and Just Exactly What the Hell That Might Be

I have to confess that my heart just isn't in it tonight. How can one be expected to focus on blogging when all over Iowa people are apparently caucusing with feverish intensity? That's what they told me on NPR anyway - throughout my morning and afternoon drives. Now, I consider myself an intelligent person. I have an advanced college degree, and I'm reasonably well read. On top of that, I actually like to look up difficult words in the dictionary, but I just looked up caucus, and I still have no idea what the hell people all over the state of Iowa might be up to tonight. The only thing I'm fairly certain of is it will likely involve thousands of sweaty hands. I'm in the dark here - and that mysterious area some refer to as the core of my being tells me the dark may be where I'm better off. -Mr. U

1/2/08

Wednesday Book Reviews

On Wednesdays Mr. U and I are going to review books. Most likely, at least for me, it is not going to be a new book because, really, aren't there enough people out there reviewing new books? Ok, maybe occasionally I might do a talk about a new one but most likely it will be at least 5 years old. Besides, who can afford new books when you are a poor college student and you have a daughter who wears nothing but Abercrombie & Fitch or "Pink" from Victoria's Secret? I have to settle for getting a free book at The Book Thing, which, by the way, is a wicked cool place to go if you are a teacher. Mr U., who teaches the wee ones, gets a lot of his books for the classroom from there. If you are thinking of donating those books in the attic please give this organization a consideration! On with the reviews!!

Return to the City of the White Donkeys by James Tate

I haven't finished even half of this book yet, and it's already the best book of poetry I've ever read. And don't misunderstand, it isn't that I don't like poetry, because there are several poets I enjoy. Rather, it's that James Tate has written something so unique here that I'm a bit startled and more than a little envious. Not since I first read Bukowski have I so wished I had written a book someone else wrote. But while Bukowski took inspiration from the grit and grind of every day life, Tate pulls poetry seemingly out of nowhere. His characters' behaviors frequently seem random and their conversations are generally unlike any you're ever likely to hear in life. But somehow, the poems either wind their way around to making beautiful sense in the end, or they don't, but either way they're almost always hilarious. Reading these poems makes me first laugh, then think and finally wonder what the hell just happened. Click on the above title link to sample some of the poems. "The Memories of Fish" is a favorite. -Mr. U