Apologies!
Many apologies!
The world has decided that I am to be in other places doing other things until otherwise noted.
Currently all of my worldly possessions are being sold and I am to relocate across the pond for a good many months. The books are being pared down as well as furniture and everything else, with only that which truly inspire remaining for perusal upon my return.
Please forgive the gaps.
I will share my reading with you when I am able to.
~ Figment
06 September 2008
11 August 2008
Smile while you're lying pt 2
My only thought as I'm reading through this book is that it reminds me of Tucker Max.
If you've not encountered Tucker Max and you don't mind reading the exploits of a man who lives it up and treats everyone, particularly women, pretty crappily during a few party years and can garner a few laughs out of such exploits then defiantly take a look. I recommend all feminists stay away from those texts. Both Tucker Max and also Mr Chuck Thompson.
The feminist in me as well as the well bread, afternoon tea drinking, linen table cloth woman in me is highly offended at this work.
The adventurer in me rolls my eyes at this man's stories.
eh.
If you've not encountered Tucker Max and you don't mind reading the exploits of a man who lives it up and treats everyone, particularly women, pretty crappily during a few party years and can garner a few laughs out of such exploits then defiantly take a look. I recommend all feminists stay away from those texts. Both Tucker Max and also Mr Chuck Thompson.
The feminist in me as well as the well bread, afternoon tea drinking, linen table cloth woman in me is highly offended at this work.
The adventurer in me rolls my eyes at this man's stories.
eh.
07 August 2008
The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho
It's Raining. well... it just started raining. It's also four in the afternoon. I learned the term for this type of weather pattern which brings rain in the afternoons in response to the heat which is summer last term in geography class. The knowledge has slipped my mind apparently, perhaps it is the wine. As a student on a very brief two week break from classes, I've remembered what it means to be lazy and have no ties or responsibilities and to enjoy a glass of wine and a book in the heat of the day. Perhaps Mr Hill, my geography professor, can understand a moment of forgetfulness over a summer vacation.
My story today is "The Devil and Miss Prym" by Paulo Coelho. Mr Coelho is famous for "The Alchemist" which I've read more than once, "The Pilgrimage" which I've also read more than once, but not as frequently as the prior, "The Zahir" which I've never read, and "The Fifth Mountain" which I've read and also referred to though not on this blog specifically. There is also a gathering of quotes and quips and those type of wisdom in a bite sized sentence book which was recently published.
I like Mr. Coelho. I encountered "The Alchemist" when I was amidst the grand change between the teenage years and young adult years. It affected me greatly and endeared me to it's story teller. I want to say that the wisdom spoken by the characters taught me to think, to observe, Maybe some of that sank in, but mostly it's a story. A quite enjoyable one at that which deals with the nature of perseverance, following one's path and living.
In a similar manner, so "The Devil and Miss Prym" is a story. It's filled with wisdom, and conflicts between the inner most places of the characters. It's about perseverance. It's also a story of belief in humanity and goodness, and the battle between the goodness of humanity and the evilness which humanity can personify.
Thunder rolled and fell down the hill outside my window. It occurs to me that my car windows might be down, the thought has passes as I return my attention to the screen.
The story is one worth reading. You know the end from the onset, you know that all will turn out perfectly fine, but you don't know how it will be, and a few times, you wonder. You wonder about the characters in the tale, about what they're doing, what they're thinking. You know that if you were in the sleepy town where these people lived, and if you experienced what they experienced then you could not say for sure that you would choose differently than they. After all, we are all human aren't we?
I like that there is no innocent saint within this tale. There is none above the soiling of evilness, above thoughts that are impure and the sting of betrayal. Every character is distinctly human. Like you. Like me. There is none able to cast the first stone. That detail alone is enough for me to repeat that I've read it. And to hand it to you to read as well.
My story today is "The Devil and Miss Prym" by Paulo Coelho. Mr Coelho is famous for "The Alchemist" which I've read more than once, "The Pilgrimage" which I've also read more than once, but not as frequently as the prior, "The Zahir" which I've never read, and "The Fifth Mountain" which I've read and also referred to though not on this blog specifically. There is also a gathering of quotes and quips and those type of wisdom in a bite sized sentence book which was recently published.
I like Mr. Coelho. I encountered "The Alchemist" when I was amidst the grand change between the teenage years and young adult years. It affected me greatly and endeared me to it's story teller. I want to say that the wisdom spoken by the characters taught me to think, to observe, Maybe some of that sank in, but mostly it's a story. A quite enjoyable one at that which deals with the nature of perseverance, following one's path and living.
In a similar manner, so "The Devil and Miss Prym" is a story. It's filled with wisdom, and conflicts between the inner most places of the characters. It's about perseverance. It's also a story of belief in humanity and goodness, and the battle between the goodness of humanity and the evilness which humanity can personify.
Thunder rolled and fell down the hill outside my window. It occurs to me that my car windows might be down, the thought has passes as I return my attention to the screen.
The story is one worth reading. You know the end from the onset, you know that all will turn out perfectly fine, but you don't know how it will be, and a few times, you wonder. You wonder about the characters in the tale, about what they're doing, what they're thinking. You know that if you were in the sleepy town where these people lived, and if you experienced what they experienced then you could not say for sure that you would choose differently than they. After all, we are all human aren't we?
I like that there is no innocent saint within this tale. There is none above the soiling of evilness, above thoughts that are impure and the sting of betrayal. Every character is distinctly human. Like you. Like me. There is none able to cast the first stone. That detail alone is enough for me to repeat that I've read it. And to hand it to you to read as well.
05 August 2008
Smile When You're Lying. Adventures of a Rogue Travel Writer pt1
Thoughts on the intro:
Intense. Direct. Cocky. Real.
[It should be noted that I, Figment, love travel stories. Stories where places are experienced in small bites and memorable simply because you're away from home and out of your comfort zone. You possibly have no ties to the place other than by simply being there. Moments happen in such places. The tale of the moments are what captures me. The truth of the tale is not nearly so important as the tale itself. Moments told in tale can be expanded upon and have their proportions shifted. So can memories. They make for good tales.]
My current read, "Smile When You're Lying:Confessions of a Rogue Travel Writer" by Mr Chuck Thompson is a scathing critique of the travel industry's "standards" of what constitutes good writing. He "wants to write about travel the way [he] experienced it and not the way the travel business wants readers, wants you, to imagine it is." He's writing with real stories of what can be when you leave your home and meander out into the world. He's writing about the experiences that you will remember in 20 years. Ironically, they are the experiences which tend to end up on the cutting room floor.
I've gotten to Chapter 2 of Mr Thompson's book. While Mr. Weiner's Geography of Bliss is carefully worded (which I adore about it) and edited and has the unpleasantness of travel smoothed over, Mr Thompson has already bared the soul of the adventure which is travel. It's already on my "Do Read" list.
Writing this, It's a Monday morning and I'm sitting at the Dripolator coffee Shop in Downtown Asheville, NC. I am traveling at the moment and have spent the weekend here in the city, enjoying the island of liberalism and free thought before going back to BobJonesville and my real life where things aren't so flexible. Glancing about to gather thoughts, my eyes grace two nearly identical women sitting at the counter. Short natural blonde hair, black shirts, one a tank the other a tee, khaki/nondescript colored shorts, canvas Carhartts and Columbia river shorts, and sandals, chacos, and flip flops. Both women sit with their computers and their coffee typing away. I know cell phones are handy as is a newspaper and a notebook for each. My horror is the realization that it's a uniform of the modern adventurer!
I continue to observe the inhabitants of the room. The horror increases at the knowledge that we're all in black teeshirts! The other inhabitant asside from the women who share a closet is a gent of late 20's age is pouring over an MCAT book, who matches me in dress. We're both in blue jeans, and clean sneakers. I'm somewhere between horrified and amused. (Apparently there's more aspects to this idea of uniform and conformity than was originally thought.)
Right, back to the book, I'm putting it on my "Do Read" list. You'll have to read it to understand why. :) (I'll be back with anecdotes and excerpts. Once I get back to "home" and accomplish some of real life for a while.)
Intense. Direct. Cocky. Real.
[It should be noted that I, Figment, love travel stories. Stories where places are experienced in small bites and memorable simply because you're away from home and out of your comfort zone. You possibly have no ties to the place other than by simply being there. Moments happen in such places. The tale of the moments are what captures me. The truth of the tale is not nearly so important as the tale itself. Moments told in tale can be expanded upon and have their proportions shifted. So can memories. They make for good tales.]
My current read, "Smile When You're Lying:Confessions of a Rogue Travel Writer" by Mr Chuck Thompson is a scathing critique of the travel industry's "standards" of what constitutes good writing. He "wants to write about travel the way [he] experienced it and not the way the travel business wants readers, wants you, to imagine it is." He's writing with real stories of what can be when you leave your home and meander out into the world. He's writing about the experiences that you will remember in 20 years. Ironically, they are the experiences which tend to end up on the cutting room floor.
I've gotten to Chapter 2 of Mr Thompson's book. While Mr. Weiner's Geography of Bliss is carefully worded (which I adore about it) and edited and has the unpleasantness of travel smoothed over, Mr Thompson has already bared the soul of the adventure which is travel. It's already on my "Do Read" list.
Writing this, It's a Monday morning and I'm sitting at the Dripolator coffee Shop in Downtown Asheville, NC. I am traveling at the moment and have spent the weekend here in the city, enjoying the island of liberalism and free thought before going back to BobJonesville and my real life where things aren't so flexible. Glancing about to gather thoughts, my eyes grace two nearly identical women sitting at the counter. Short natural blonde hair, black shirts, one a tank the other a tee, khaki/nondescript colored shorts, canvas Carhartts and Columbia river shorts, and sandals, chacos, and flip flops. Both women sit with their computers and their coffee typing away. I know cell phones are handy as is a newspaper and a notebook for each. My horror is the realization that it's a uniform of the modern adventurer!
I continue to observe the inhabitants of the room. The horror increases at the knowledge that we're all in black teeshirts! The other inhabitant asside from the women who share a closet is a gent of late 20's age is pouring over an MCAT book, who matches me in dress. We're both in blue jeans, and clean sneakers. I'm somewhere between horrified and amused. (Apparently there's more aspects to this idea of uniform and conformity than was originally thought.)
Right, back to the book, I'm putting it on my "Do Read" list. You'll have to read it to understand why. :) (I'll be back with anecdotes and excerpts. Once I get back to "home" and accomplish some of real life for a while.)
21 July 2008
Geography of Bliss Part 5
From my reading notes, 15th July 2008 (These are the full notes - with situational commentary included.)
Ch 5 Iceland, Reflections several days after I'd finished the chapter.
Mr. Weiner is impressed with his Icelandic experience. Consequently, so am I.
However, I sit in a Starbucks in Taylors, South Carolina, where the barista has screwed up a simple cup of house coffee. I glance up from my comfortable chair, a snazzy mix of modern orange in a cotton nonvelvetish fabric with art nouveau styling set on a floor of dark slate, to observe the world and my eyes land on a sign. "Today is a new smoothie." I am not impressed. Mediocrity at it's finest and most uninspired. (I briefly wonder about how much the person who thought up that slogan made this month, and if they'd be open to paying my tuition for next semester for my having to tolerate their intrusion into my thoughts.)
Anyways - Iceland - Quite the intriguing coverage. Mr Weiner is intrigued by his subject. He strikes upon truths. Specifically, his treatment of the idea of Naive - and being or not being in the midst of page 167. "Here was an entire nation of naive people, and they seemed to be doing just fine. Besides, What's wrong with being naive? Wasn't Christopher Columbus naive? Wasn't Gandhi naive? Weren't the 1969 New York Jets Naive? The world...would be a far better place with a bit more naivete." And then there was the recounting of Hilmar's justification for becoming a composer at the bottom of pg 171. Simply- hours of practicing instruments to obtain perfection can be tedious and requires much much work while composing is much less work with the same amount of pleasure derived from it. This is something I can relate to. I've learned to play the clarinet, bass clarinet, contra bass clarinet, cymbals, and attempted the guitar, banjo and fiddle to name a few. Try keeping all of those fingerings and chords straight in your head! It's a lot of work. And then to practice all of them! Well, I don't have the hours in the day! It's easier and simpler and more pleasureful to pursue other interests. (This blog for example.)
Hilgar, ends up finding a copy of Eddas for Mr Weiner. It's the book of Heathenism. (It's been added to my listings of books I'd like to read. [and a detail, I was unpacking more the other day and found another 2 foot stack of books hidden behind a box. Images to come. Promise.])
Within the book, Mr Weiner finds a section called "Sayings of the Wise One" - He dubs it Fortune-cookie Heathenism.
"For Travelers:
Who travels widely needs his wits about him.
The stupid should stay at home.
For Drinkers
A man knows less the more he drinks,
Becomes a muddled fool.
and this one
It is best for a man to be middle-wise,
Not over cunning and clever
The learned man whose lore is deep
Is seldom happy at heart.
"Middle-wise. It had never occurred to me that we could be too wise, too learned. Leave it to some Heathens to teach me this life lesson."
I have a note here about Truths, and it's that they should not be confused with truisms. I wasn't sure what it's referring to, maybe the idea that truisms are found on T-shirts and bumper stickers, and truths are deeper, and based in a path of learning... possibly the difference between the crows and the parrots. Possibly that truth cannot be contained and meshed down into a simple saying which is repeated until it's original value is lost. [The rest of the thought had been lost as lights at Starbucks went out as it was ten o'clock and apparently closing time. I need to move to a city.]
Ch 5 Iceland, Reflections several days after I'd finished the chapter.
Mr. Weiner is impressed with his Icelandic experience. Consequently, so am I.
However, I sit in a Starbucks in Taylors, South Carolina, where the barista has screwed up a simple cup of house coffee. I glance up from my comfortable chair, a snazzy mix of modern orange in a cotton nonvelvetish fabric with art nouveau styling set on a floor of dark slate, to observe the world and my eyes land on a sign. "Today is a new smoothie." I am not impressed. Mediocrity at it's finest and most uninspired. (I briefly wonder about how much the person who thought up that slogan made this month, and if they'd be open to paying my tuition for next semester for my having to tolerate their intrusion into my thoughts.)
Anyways - Iceland - Quite the intriguing coverage. Mr Weiner is intrigued by his subject. He strikes upon truths. Specifically, his treatment of the idea of Naive - and being or not being in the midst of page 167. "Here was an entire nation of naive people, and they seemed to be doing just fine. Besides, What's wrong with being naive? Wasn't Christopher Columbus naive? Wasn't Gandhi naive? Weren't the 1969 New York Jets Naive? The world...would be a far better place with a bit more naivete." And then there was the recounting of Hilmar's justification for becoming a composer at the bottom of pg 171. Simply- hours of practicing instruments to obtain perfection can be tedious and requires much much work while composing is much less work with the same amount of pleasure derived from it. This is something I can relate to. I've learned to play the clarinet, bass clarinet, contra bass clarinet, cymbals, and attempted the guitar, banjo and fiddle to name a few. Try keeping all of those fingerings and chords straight in your head! It's a lot of work. And then to practice all of them! Well, I don't have the hours in the day! It's easier and simpler and more pleasureful to pursue other interests. (This blog for example.)
Hilgar, ends up finding a copy of Eddas for Mr Weiner. It's the book of Heathenism. (It's been added to my listings of books I'd like to read. [and a detail, I was unpacking more the other day and found another 2 foot stack of books hidden behind a box. Images to come. Promise.])
Within the book, Mr Weiner finds a section called "Sayings of the Wise One" - He dubs it Fortune-cookie Heathenism.
"For Travelers:
Who travels widely needs his wits about him.
The stupid should stay at home.
For Drinkers
A man knows less the more he drinks,
Becomes a muddled fool.
and this one
It is best for a man to be middle-wise,
Not over cunning and clever
The learned man whose lore is deep
Is seldom happy at heart.
"Middle-wise. It had never occurred to me that we could be too wise, too learned. Leave it to some Heathens to teach me this life lesson."
I have a note here about Truths, and it's that they should not be confused with truisms. I wasn't sure what it's referring to, maybe the idea that truisms are found on T-shirts and bumper stickers, and truths are deeper, and based in a path of learning... possibly the difference between the crows and the parrots. Possibly that truth cannot be contained and meshed down into a simple saying which is repeated until it's original value is lost. [The rest of the thought had been lost as lights at Starbucks went out as it was ten o'clock and apparently closing time. I need to move to a city.]
09 July 2008
You havn't been forgotten!
Greetings!
You haven't been forgotten!
I've been off hiking in the hills, and painting and have just made it back to a computer today.
The reading of The Geography of Bliss is at all of chapter three. We've visited Denmark, Switzerland, and Bhutan. We are now in Qatar.
There is more to say, but time is short at the moment. A quick thought though. On page 108, Mr Weiner writes, " Humans, even nomadic ones, need a sense of home. Home need not be one place or any place at all, but every home has two essential elements: a sense of community and ever more importantly, a history." He also wonders, on the next page when speaking of location and happiness, "Is solidness a prerequisite for happiness?"
As a nomadic human myself, I will attest to the three as elements of happiness. I need to be connected to someone - preferably more than one - for community. Humans are social creatures... and there has to be a history to the place. It's hard to live in the burbs where the houses are younger than you are and when you were born, the animals inhabited the trees where you house stands today. And you know in all of my experience, quicksand, both proverbial and literal, does not equate to happiness for anyone. (That is, unless you're into that sort of thing.)
Even though I'm not nearly through with it, I'm quite impressed. Mr Weiner obviously has a solid grasp of words and their construction. Weaving in storytelling with journalistic distance, he adds in very personal quips to remind you that you're reading an account of someone who's relating an experience even though he's trained himself to relate stories without relating.
It's a nice mix. He does it well.
And like the rest of us, he has a website: http://www.ericweinerbooks.com
(I will admit that I've not even looked at it, as I don't wish to be too biased or have too much background information before the experience of the printed material itself. That is the point of the book, yes?)
You haven't been forgotten!
I've been off hiking in the hills, and painting and have just made it back to a computer today.
The reading of The Geography of Bliss is at all of chapter three. We've visited Denmark, Switzerland, and Bhutan. We are now in Qatar.
There is more to say, but time is short at the moment. A quick thought though. On page 108, Mr Weiner writes, " Humans, even nomadic ones, need a sense of home. Home need not be one place or any place at all, but every home has two essential elements: a sense of community and ever more importantly, a history." He also wonders, on the next page when speaking of location and happiness, "Is solidness a prerequisite for happiness?"
As a nomadic human myself, I will attest to the three as elements of happiness. I need to be connected to someone - preferably more than one - for community. Humans are social creatures... and there has to be a history to the place. It's hard to live in the burbs where the houses are younger than you are and when you were born, the animals inhabited the trees where you house stands today. And you know in all of my experience, quicksand, both proverbial and literal, does not equate to happiness for anyone. (That is, unless you're into that sort of thing.)
Even though I'm not nearly through with it, I'm quite impressed. Mr Weiner obviously has a solid grasp of words and their construction. Weaving in storytelling with journalistic distance, he adds in very personal quips to remind you that you're reading an account of someone who's relating an experience even though he's trained himself to relate stories without relating.
It's a nice mix. He does it well.
And like the rest of us, he has a website: http://www.ericweinerbooks.com
(I will admit that I've not even looked at it, as I don't wish to be too biased or have too much background information before the experience of the printed material itself. That is the point of the book, yes?)
02 July 2008
First Posts
A first post is a page holder.
It's a bookmark of sorts.
A teaser for the rest which is being created as we speak, err read.
It's a bookmark of sorts.
A teaser for the rest which is being created as we speak, err read.
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