early color photos

Photos taken with the first commercially color film available to the general public. It's interesting to see images normally associated with "black and white" time in color, like the one above of South Side steel mills in 1939.

The weather is turning brighter, and I'm finding the need to take up a new hobby. While my brain searches for distraction, my body says "get to the gym, dummy." Maybe one of these days I'll actually listen.

Only a four day week this time, because I'm helping out with something for school. Woo!

There's a Coptic Orthodox Church on the way to work, and the curiosity is increasing to go and look inside. The Coptic tradition of Orthodox Christianity developed mostly in Egypt, founded by St. Mark (the Gospel writer, whose influence is felt widely across southern Europe and northern Africa). There's so little I know about the Orthodox Christianity; it's weird to think that I know more about Judaism or Islam in comparison.

Summer plans are shaping up: retreats, vacations, hanging out with Ed, taking summer school

happy opening day

Spring break, good bye. But say yes to the Annunciation.

"The Annunciation". Henry Ossawa Tanner. 1898.

But, hello end-of-the-school-year-is-in-sight. And with it, hopefully, clarity, direction, and purpose.

(But one never does know). I could really use some before I start freaking out.

April brings us its usual greetings:

• rainy weather (check)
• the same Sox as the old Sox
• new and interesting ways to waste time: Rasterbator. You'll love it.

I want to post photos from break, just because I finally got to TAKE photos, including the one I got yelled at for taking. Sweet. Some sort of mishmash of the Art Institute (and the Homer/Hopper exhibition), walking around downtown, grading, Divine Mercy Sunday, wishing I was here, wishing I lived somewhere else, Demetri Martin, watching baseball, grading a lot, eating a lot, praying a LOT. Happy Easter.

Good bye, friends.

Palm Sunday + new things I learned + baseball draft = monstrous post

Duccio di Buoninsegna. "Maestà (back, central panel): The Entry into Jerusalem." 1308-11. Tempera on wood panel. Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Siena, Italy.

New things that I learned recently:

• Sister Raffaella told me about the Ambrosian rite, which is mostly in the Archdiocese in Milan. The Ambrosian rite (established by St. Ambrose, archbishop of Milan back in the 5th century) is actually even older than the currently widely used Latin rite. In shorthand, as far as I know, in one of the bigboy meetings like the Council of Trent, if the rite of a particular liturgical tradition dates further back than the Latin rite, but still submits to the authority of the pope, and the tenets of the Church, then it's ok.
  
  I have a friend who is a part of the Chaldean rite, which has its roots in Iraq, established by St. Thomas the Apostle in the first century. The difference in rites, from what I understand, is based on the simple fact that with the distance from the center of Catholicism in Rome, different traditions seeped into the liturgy of different locations as time passed. This page does the best in explaining all of this stuff.
  
• I learned that coaching boys is a heck of a lot easier for me than coaching girls. Geez, no contest. Granted, at least I now have a season under my belt, but seriously. It probably makes a major difference that I'm helping with the freshman boys, who are willing to follow any sort of coaching at all, so that makes life easier too.
• I learned that I need to make a decision on where I'm living/working next year, but I have no idea when I need to make it by. Which probably tells me that I need to pray more.
• I've learned that my baseball team is giving no indications that it's going to do anything but suck. Related: my soccer team sucks too, ever since winning the League Cup.
  
• I learned that when fantasy baseball drafting season comes around, I'm totally screwed. Wait? That's now?!

Speaking of which, here are the results of my fantasy baseball draft. I thought you'd never ask?!

5 x 5 Yahoo! fantasy league, 12 teams, I drafted 3rd. Max was 8th (ha).

1. David Wright, NYM, 3b - Yessss. It's nice to mix up who you get from year to year. I am excited to own JillKMeier mancrush David Wright for the first time. 30/30, prease.
2. Lance Berkman, Hou, 1b/OF - And then sometimes, you just draft the same guys every year.
3. Brandon Webb, Ari, SP
4. Carlos Guillen, Det, 1b/SS - The start of drafting a thousand guys who can play first base. Guillen qualifies for SS but will actually play 1b, which means less miles on the legs, which means more SBs, and he's hitting in the best lineup in league. Good times. 25-120, please. Also, Gat roto stalwart Brian Roberts gets picked right before me, so I'm rattled, and so I order cheese fries from the waitress.
   
5. Carlos Zambrano, ChiC, SP - Am I going to regret this? It's Max's fault. Just have to avoid the really bad starts. Still better than anyone else I could have gotten (Haren, Hamels).
6. Brian McCann, Atl, C - Hoping this works better than my Joe Mauer investment last year.
7. Nick Swisher, Sox, 1b/OF - A little early? Maybe. I think he's going to hit 35-40 at the Cell, plus it gives me a reason to care about my team.
   
8. Bobby Jenks, Sox, RP - Best reliever left on the board, I swear. Also, Paul Konerko is staring at me from the draft board. "Come on, man, we're frieeennnddsss."
9. Rich Hill, ChiC, SP - Love the strikeouts, and he surely will get better run support than last year. Also, why do I have so many Cubs. I punch Max in the solar plexus.
10. Jacob Ellsbury, Bos, OF - Am I going to regret this? Trade Coco Crisp, already. I'm desperate for speed, and I'd rather have Ellsbury rather than old Ellsbury, AKA Johnny Damon.
11. Tim Hudson, Atl, SP - Why do I have so many Braves? I almost drafted Texeira instead of Berkman, too. But what are my alternatives? Joba? Pedro? Brad Penny? Liriano? No thanks.
12. Willy Taveras, Col, OF - Speed, speed, speed. I am going to regret this. Damn you, whoever got Brian Roberts! Look what I've been forced to do!
13. Manny Corpas, Col, RP - Generic closer type who gets saves and doesn't kill my WHIP/ERA.
14. Kelly Johnson, Atl, 2b - Too many Braves. Why does my OCD pick up on that? He's the best left on a really weak board. I hate Kazuo Matsui's guts.
    
15. Jeremy Accardo, Tor, RP - BJ Ryan might be back, but Tommy John surgery takes two years to recover. Who's going to catch that beautiful butterfly? Accardo, with 30+ saves.
16. Brian Wilson, SF, RP - I'm lying in bed, just like Brian Wilson did. Just get me 30 saves.
17. Ryan Garko, Cle, 1b - You play 1b? Welcome to my team. Stop glaring at me, Paul Konerko.
18. George Sherrill, Bal, RP - Closer for the Orioles?
    
19. Ryan Theriot, ChiC, 2b/SS - Too. Many. Cubs.
    
20. Heath Bell, SD, RP - The guy K-Dub should have traded for instead of Scott Linebrink. 100 Ks as a reliever? Tasty.
    
21. Frank Thomas, Tor, Util - Just for old times' sake.
    

It feels like I need more power and speed. Pitching looks good, tho.

Have a great Holy Week. But before that, don't forget this guy:

tough day... but always hope

I dislike Institute Days at school very much, because it never feels like the time is being used efficiently. I suppose it's much like the rest of my life.

In lieu of dwelling on another shocking Hollywood death, February is the official timeline for the RPM Challenge, which consists of recording an entire album of music 29 days. This is similar in spirit to last November's National Novel Writing Month, in that it forces you, the floundering artist, to get off your duff and get the creativity flowing. If you were looking for an excuse, then here it be.

In related news, the release of The Dark Knight is now going to be very creepy.

Wanted to comment on the Nick Swisher trade but there's nothing to say except "we're sure pushing really hard to win 85 games." Swisher is pretty good, but the trade feels like paying $20 for a cheeseburger. It better be a really good cheeseburger. Also, Ozzie is totally dumb enough to play Swisher in centerfield, a LOT. Don't say I didn't warn you.

yesssssssssss

national novel writing month

is november 1-30. Just a little excerpt from the site to explain what the deal is:

What is NaNoWriMo?

National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft, NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.

And all of that warms the cockles of this writing teacher's heart.

The awkward acronym is crap, though.

plotting out the madness

One of the OCD things I do when I have too many things jumbled in my mind is to make lists. It doesn't even help me organize, it just smooths my nerves. Here goes:

I keep finding mechanical flaws in my setter as she delivers the ball. She's slow with her hands prior to the ball arriving, which means she rushes and ends up "flicking" at the ball instead of making a steady, even push with both. Her feet are off-balance when she sets, also, so that she's often on one foot when she delivers, which throws off the timing. I don't want to overload her mind with too much information, but she needs to make a consistent set about 90% of the time.

Why are the Puritans so dreadful to read about? *I* even fall asleep trying to grasp it. Jonathan Edwards is fun, though. You don't really read anything close to "angry" in public school literature anymore.

On the end of the American Lit pool that I like to wade in is Edgar Allan Poe, and "The Cask of Amontillado," which my frosh get to read this week. Unless they tell me that they've read it before. I tell them, too bad, you haven't read it with me. Muhahaha. Bricks and mortar, anybody?

I can hear my mother grinding vegetables and fruits into the juicer upstairs, which takes me back to a childhood full of mornings with carrot juice, because, well... I don't why. They told me to drink it, so I did. The grinding juicer sound still heebs me out, as does vegetable juice in general, which my V8 drinking coworkers take advantage of.

I'm in a rut with music and movies. The last few purchases have been up and down (Feist? Up. Interpol? Down.), and the impending Kanye/50 sales peeing contest is unappealing. Somebody rescue me. A Place to Bury Strangers? The National? Liars? C'mon guys. Thankfully, two fave actors open this coming week, so... I've got weekend plans. Woo!

emptying the notebook

I am stealing this quote from a baseball blog I read (and highly recommend) which stole it from an interview with author Philip Roth. Roth was speaking about the need for the modern reader to read books in some weird, alternative way (I blame the 21st century), as in, "what do these characters' names really MEAN?" Or "what does this tell me about the AUTHOR?" Mr. Roth says:

"It’s like baseball. Suppose you and I went up to the ballpark together and there's a guy next to us with his kid. And (the father) was saying, 'Now, what I want you to do is watch the scoreboard. Stop watching the field. Just watch what happens when the numbers change on the scoreboard. Isn't that great? Now do you see what just happened there? Did you see what happened? Why did that happen?'

"And you say, 'That guy is crazy.' But the kid imbibes it and he goes home and he's asked: 'How was the game?' And he says, 'Great! The scoreboard changed thirty-two times and Daddy said last game it changed only fourteen times and the home team last time changed more times than the other team. It was really great! We had hot dogs and we stood up at one point to stretch and we went home.'

"Is that politicizing the game? Is that theorizing the baseball game? No. It's not having the foggiest idea what baseball is."

True that, dawg.

Ambiguously Masculine Moment (TM): Durty and I, sitting on his couch, watching, laughing, ENJOYING "The Devil Wears Prada" on a slow Sunday night on TV. "This is great. I watched this with my sister. You should see the rest of it," says he. Hmm.

excerpt

from Percy Shelley's "Zucca" (1822)

I loved—oh, no, I mean not one of ye,
Or any earthly one, though ye are dear
As human heart to human heart may be;—
I loved, I know not what—but this low sphere
And all that it contains, contains not thee,
Thou, whom, seen nowhere, I feel everywhere.
From Heaven and Earth, and all that in them are,
Veiled art thou, like a ... star.

By Heaven and Earth, from all whose shapes thou flowest,
Neither to be contained, delayed, nor hidden;
Making divine the loftiest and the lowest,
When for a moment thou art not forbidden
To live within the life which thou bestowest;
And leaving noblest things vacant and chidden,
Cold as a corpse after the spirit’s flight
Blank as the sun after the birth of night.

In winds, and trees, and streams, and all things common,
In music and the sweet unconscious tone
Of animals, and voices which are human,
Meant to express some feelings of their own;
In the soft motions and rare smile of woman,
In flowers and leaves, and in the grass fresh-shown,
Or dying in the autumn, I the most
Adore thee present or lament thee lost.

i miss hawaii

"View from the 9th floor," 4/29/07, Waikiki Beach.

keeping a promise to caroline

...because I said that I would mention the folk artist that I ran into down in Ponchatoula.

Let me back up.

First, a few friends and I had been told about this hermitish folk artist, a painter, who happened to live in the same town we were staying, by someone who caught us admiring some of the art that was hanging up on the wall.

His name is Bill Hemmerling, and he's quite a treat to talk to. He was nice enough to chat with us for about an hour and a half, show us around his studio, talk about God, life, and art (to me, which I will forever remember and appreciate. He encouraged me to write as much as possible, and to find that place in myself to be original, because there's no point in being somebody else telling somebody else's story. Thanks Bill).

His painting have something soulful and beautiful, a fullness that isn't necessarily apparent from the surface. Some people, I hear, dislike the faceless quality of the figures (almost always of black people) that he paints, but he says he has them remain faceless because he wants to represent a kind of universality. The universality being the dignity, the grace, and the beauty of people, especially black people.


He has a series of paintings with the same figure, called "Sweet Olive." She is long, lean, and graceful, and Bill says he paints her that way because growing up, he saw that black people had always been represented in negative ways, so he wanted to paint them in a way that was beautiful, in some sort of classical way.

Bill himself is very gentle, calm, childlike. Despite his humble appearance, he is articulate, sympathetic, aware of the world. His publicist handles the sales, freeing him to paint and live his solitary lifestyle. He paints, feeds his dog and his cat, meets with people who like his paintings, hanging in the back gallery of a furniture store. Who knew you could find this stuff in a small town in Louisiana?

I almost, rashly, put some money down on one of his originals, which would definitely have put me in some kind of ridiculous financial hole, but... it sure felt like it'd be worth it, before I came to my senses. Maybe, just maybe, I can have one of those hanging on my wall one day, now that it looks like I'll be able to support myself.

Also, Blades of Glory? Totally ridiculous.

good friday

"Crucifixion" by Masaccio, 1426.

"See, my servant will prosper, he shall be lifted up, exalted, rise to great heights. As the crowds were appalled on seeing him – so disfigured did he look that he seemed no longer human – so will the crowds be astonished at him, and kings stand speechless before him; for they shall see something never told and witness something never heard before." -- Isaiah 52:13-15

credo

"The Last Judgment," Michelangelo, 1541, detail

"Christianity is through-and-through an eschatological faith. It holds that the murky transactions of our sin-clouded history stand under the gaze of a divine justice that will assert itself in final confrontation at the Ultimate Moment (to Eschaton)... To have an eschatological faith is to have a 'synchronic' faith, one in which eternity is continually intersecting -- literally, cutting across -- time. We are created now, at every now. Christ comes now; the Incarnation is now. The great judgment is now. 'The accomplishment of everything impends' (1 Peter 4:7). That is the good news Jesus came to bring. Believing it is what makes me Catholic."

-- Garry Wills, Why I Am A Catholic

life and times of my brain

"The flesh is indeed no more than a bruise / on the spirit." -- Paul Muldoon, from The End of Poetry

"Good. Then we'll have our battle in the shade." -- Dienekes, a Spartan, when told that the arrows of the Persian Army would block out the sun at the battle of Thermopylae. From Herodotus' Histories.

laboring

Neuroscientists say that visual art, such as Wassily Kandinsky's paintings, can be heard as well as seen.


Kandinsky's "Composition VIII," 1923. It makes sense to me that sound could be represented this way, but I'm curious to see if someone would perceive it as something more visually realistic. Maybe that doesn't make any sense.

American military deaths in Iraq have gone over 2,600 since March 2003. Ugh.

Over the weekend, a friend told me about a website (some additional media coverage) that allows for teachers to sell and pay for lesson plans made by other teachers. Personally, I think I'd have to be in a pretty desperate place to use plans from someone that I don't know, but I could see it working for something universal, like grammar or particular types of writing. In theory, it's no different than the shiny catalogs teachers get in the mail all the time touting brand new curricula, and you don't have any more guarantee of classroom success. It's a pretty good idea, actually, if done right. I kind of wish I knew about this earlier because, despite my short life in the profession, I have a whole bunch of handouts, lessons, and unit plans that were just sitting on my computer. It would've been nice to have some pocket money while looking for work, and offer something of value to somebody at the same time.

It does kind of violate the ethos of sharing teaching materials, since most teachers share for free with coworkers, but I suppose you can justify the cost if it's low enough (educators not being the richest people in the world). There are open source educational material projects out there. In theory, if a teacher is up late planning one night, and can't seem to come up with something, would paying a couple of dollars (the sellers can set their prices) for a grammar handout be worth it? It might be, for the convenience and the time saved. Another "macro" issue would be copyright; there's some contention as to whether teacher-produced materials belong to the author(s), or the school, or the district.

I've been following English Premier League soccer regularly, helped by a new laptop (which has been the bane of my productivity). The latest story involves defender William Gallas (shipped to Arsenal after a nasty spat with Chelsea) and how Chelsea alleges that he'd start kicking the ball into his own net if he didn't get transferred to another club. I love how ridiculous this is, if it's true. I can't even think of an equal counterpart in American sports. Euro soccer players pout like no other.

a list of books

Cuz Melvis made me, and I'm too bland to post anything else.

1) One book that changed your life:
Professionally? In the Middle, by Nancie Atwell, about teaching writing and reading workshop. Personally, the last one would be... A Mother's Plea, by Fr. Anthony Bus.

2) One book you have read more than once:
U2: At the End of the World, by Bill Flanagan

3) One book you would want on a desert island:
A book large enough to build a vessel or turn into ample kindling for firewood. So, this Ming dynasty manuscript with over 23,000 chapters would be perfect. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind plowing through Moby Dick again, being in the middle of the ocean, since I'm the only one I know that likes it anyway. It's got plenty of pages for kindling, too.

4) One book that made you laugh:
A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving. "YOUR MOTHER HAS THE BEST BREASTS OF ALL THE MOTHERS."

5) One book that made you cry:
I haven't cried while reading, but I got really sad after Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer. 9/11 seen through the eyes of a kid.

6) One book you wish had been written:
A Decade of Dominance: The Hegemony of Asian Men over Mainstream American Society and the White Sox Championship Run, 2005-2014.

7) One book you wish had never been written:
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, by Carson McCullers. Ugh. So. De. Pre. Ssing. This made midwestern winter nights during high school a LOT more bleak.

8) One book you are currently reading:
Prayer Primer, by Fr. Thomas Dubay.

9) One book you have been meaning to read:
Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami.

When I consider

Sonnet XIV (1652)
John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask; but Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state

Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

reading

One of my tutoring students asked me what I read. Nowadays, I tend to read stuff in a style that I want to write. So, Nick Hornby, John Irving, Chuck Palahniuk of late. I was trying to explain to my student, that for a writerly nerd, it's hard to just enjoy a plot, because I'm wrapped up in analyzing the language or dissecting how the dude turned that phrase so hilariously. I know *just* enough to be dangerous.

"Piano" (1918)
D.H. Lawrence

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

easter

There is only one temptation. All particular temptations are expressions of this one original or "primordial" temptation. This is the temptation to believe that the fulfillment of the desires of the human heart depends entirely on us. Dependence on another leaves us at the mercy of what we cannot control. Therefore, we are tempted to reject all forms of dependence. The most radical form of dependence is love. Therefore, the original temptation is to deny that our existence is a pure and perfect gift of an infinite Love that deserves to be loved in return. The fullest revelation that God is love is the incarnation of Christ. Therefore, the primordial temptation is to reject the incarnation and its consequences.

--Monsignor Lorenzo Albacete

photographing, or trying to

At least some of them turned out. I have a nasty case of the jitters. Gotta lay off the coffee.

Click the images for super-big versions.

Over the weekend, robins were hanging out in the tree directly in front of our house, while nary a robin is to be seen in any other tree on our block (I checked). I don't really care about birds sitting in trees, but it was weird that they weren't out anywhere else. They probably heard about Mama Ahn's cooking. Cuz they look fat enough to have had some of it already.

Yesterday, went to Queen of All Saints basilica in Lincolnwood, which has some of the best and most extensive displays of stained glass I've seen, even better than what I'd seen in Rome. I kinda wished for a brighter day, but the sun would probably have overpowered my dinky camera.

One of the cool things about the basilica is that the stained glass is in sets of four, with each grouping of four having a unifying theme, like the Gospel writers in this example, or significant scenes from the life of Jesus, or saints who were popes. I'm probably going back next week to photograph more of it.