a book thing
I read books, listen to books, pile up books, buy books, lose books, lend books, give books, and love to get books.
But I don't make books.
(i don't "make book" either, which is the slang term by grandmother used back in the forties, when she would send me down the street to the bar where I would bet her weekly "10 cents, combination" on the numbers.)
Last month, a dear friend of mine sent me, as a condolence gift, a book that she had literally made. It's not just a book; its a sculpture of sorts, fanning out, when opened, with flaps containing her favorite quotes. It's got color and texture and is a book like no other.
And this is my favorite quote of her favorite quotes:
Forgiveness is letting go of all hope for a better past.
--Anne Lamott
Myrln Monday Memoriam
For a while before his death in April, non-blogger Myrln (aka Bill Frankonis), posted here on Kalilily Time some kind of rant or other every Monday. Our daughter has been sending me some of his writings to post posthumously, but we were all away all weekend at the party Bill said in his will that he wanted.
So, today, I post my second letter to the dead.
Dear Bill:
Were you whirling in your ashes as so many of those people whose lives you touched so meaningfully told stories about their relationships with you? Even a few with whom you were no longer on the best of terms stood up and remembered the good times.
I know how much you wanted to let those people with whom you felt close at various points in your life know how much they meant to you. Well, obviously they already knew.
I didn't count how many of the little theater's seats were filled, but there had to be between 50 and 60 people who came in for the story telling. And there were others who came and left before that time as well.
You would have loved to hear the stories -- some funny, some poignant -- all remembering you at your best. There is no doubt that you will be remembered by your colleagues and students not only as an amazingly talented writer and director, but also a uniquely nurturing mentor and teacher.
You would have been so proud of our two kids. Well, I should say proudER, since you always have been proud of them.
You also would have loved to see your almost 6-year-old grandson and the (equally young) granddaughter of our friends Pat and Bill. They hit it off amazingly. Word has it that she said that she really liked his hair and was going to marry him. The pairing of our respective offspring didn't happen last generation. Wouldn't it be a hoot if it happened with this one.
I wish I could talk to you about that novel Enchantment that you gave me a while ago and I found in my pile of books-to-read last week. I couldn't help see you and me in the princess and the scholar. I wonder if that's what you thought as well. I'm only half way through, so I don't know how it ends. I hope that it ends better than we did as a couple.
On the way back to where I live now (I can't call it "home"), I played the Famous Blue Raincoat CD that you gave me.
There Ain't no Cure for Love.
the last post-it
My late once-husband often sent me books that he thought I would like, after he read them. He always had an uncanny knack for selecting both books and music that I liked as much as he did.
As I continue to clean out my "stuff," I moved a pile of books yesterday and found one I had forgotten about. And so I started reading it last night.
He was right, again. From the Amazon review:
Mixing magic and modernity, the acclaimed Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game) has woven threads of history, religion, and myth together into a convincing, time-hopping tale that is part love story, part adventure. Enchantment's heroes, "Prince" Ivan and Princess Katerina, must deal with cross-cultural mores, ancient gods, treacherous kinsmen (and fianceés), and ultimately Baba Yaga herself.
Thanks, again, Bill.
and is it art?
With this post is a reminder to often check out 3 quarks daily, a group blog for those who like to have their brains prodded.
I read the post that linked to this soon after I had a look at some photos that my amateur photographer daughter had been playing with, using some trial software. The item is about "computational photography" and is about innovations in digital cameras, but the concept includes innovations in software a well.
This landscape photo of hers, for example, she transformed to look as though it had brush strokes in it. This one turned into a watercolor.
What will these new technological capacities for creating "art" mean for the value (monetary, aesthetic, and historical) of the more traditional artist?
And it's not just the two-dimensional visual arts techniques that are changing. Creative writing has reached a new frontier as well. 3 quarks daily cites an article in The Guardian that reports:
The book-writing machine works simply, at least in principle. First, one feeds it a recipe for writing a particular genre of book - a tome about crossword puzzles, say, or a market outlook for products. Then hook the computer up to a big database full of info about crossword puzzles or market information. The computer uses the recipe to select data from the database and write and format it into book form.
Phillip M. Parker, the inventor of the system, gives his reason for inventing it:
"there is a need for a method and apparatus for authoring, marketing, and/or distributing title materials automatically by a computer." He explains that "further, there is a need for an automated system that eliminates or substantially reduces the costs associated with human labour, such as authors, editors, graphic artists, data analysts, translators, distributors, and marketing personnel.
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I can't help wondering if the next steps will be to program machines to actually do the painting, take and make the photos, write the books, make the movies......
Will actual human creative processes become obsolete and will we become -- as we almost are already -- just consumers??
Will the offspring of Roomba leave no place for future Rembrandts?
