This assignment had me seeing double. Not out of anger, mind you, but out of necessity. It took me longer than usual to find something to photograph. Unless, of course, you want to see multiple high school text books.
Personally, I think the wait was worth it.
A downpour darkened the ground and amplified these lines in the afternoon light.
A few feet away, rainwater pools in a storm drain.
Stating your opinion is giving your “two cents.”
People only want to pay a “penny for your thoughts.”
I don’t know why I started following Amanda Palmer on Twitter.
I’d never heard her music.
I’d never seen her show.
I’d never read her name in the news.
I only knew she was the wife of Neil Gaiman.
When I saw she had written a book, I thought “yeah, I’ll add that to the list and read it someday.” Then, it started to take over my Twitter feed. One Saturday I decided to see if my small-town library even had a copy; they did, and it was available. I tweeted about it, and much to my surprise, Amanda Palmer herself retweeted me. Twice:
I used her book for my second-ever Teaser Tuesday and almost couldn’t put it down:
Here's the thing: all of us come from some place
of wanting to be seen, understood, accepted,
connected.
Every single one of us wants to be believed.
Artists are often just . . . louder about it.
Art of Asking is also the first book in a long time I received flak over. Apparently, the cover “isn’t appropriate.” Really, people? Ulysses and Lolita were fine, but AoA needs to be hidden away? Perhaps you forgot the phrase
"Don't judge a book by its cover."
And what a book it is. Amanda recounts her early artistic career as a Living Statue, the growing pains of the Dresden Dolls, her falling-into-love with Neil Gaiman, the backlash of a successful Kickstarter campaign, her current tour, and many personal relationships. Through it all she delves into the basic human need to be seen and understood without being judged, to ask without fearing the possible – inevitable? – rejection, to trust unconditionally.
Amanda lets us into her world and barew her own fears and faults and foilables. She does not claim perfection, far from it. What she offers is light.
A flashlight on a dark path, keeping others from stumbling.
A spotlight on an exit ramp, showing the way.
Track lighting on fine art, highlighting beauty and grace we might have missed.
The best books reach inside and change the very essence of our being. They change how we see ourselves, those around us, and the world we live in. They are unavoidable catalysts for change in a static world. In my last twenty-nine years, only three authors spoke to me in such a way:
It’s not often that we history teachers can stand in front of our class, point to a current event, and declare with authority “This is Historically Significant.”
This week, though, was different. This week Richard III was finally laid to rest. A king many know only from Shakespeare, perhaps Richard wasn’t all that bad. After all, the Bard did manage to besmirch John as the Worst King in England, right? Or maybe that’s just my opinion of Will’s opinion.
Therefore, I read with great delight the poem written specifically for the occasion by England’s Poet Laureate:
Richard
by Carol Ann Duffy
My bones, scripted in light, upon cold soil,
a human braille. My skull, scarred by a crown,
emptied of history. Describe my soul
as incense, votive, vanishing; your own
the same. Grant me the carving of my name.
These relics, bless. Imagine you re-tie
a broken string and on it thread a cross,
the symbol severed from me when I died.
The end of time – the unknown, unfelt loss –
unless the Resurrection of the Dead . . .
or I once dreamed of this, your future breath
in prayer for me, lost long, forever found;
or sensed you from the backstage of my death,
as kings glimpse shadows on a battleground.
Now see and hear it read by Benedict Cumberbatch, famous actor and third cousin sixteen times removed from Richard III:
Powerful. The sense of loss and pain and regret juxtaposed with future hope and joy. So much history contained in fourteen lines.
Just in case you don’t know, Teaser Tuesday is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by A Daily Rhythm. Anyone can play along! All you have to do is grab the book you’re currently reading, open to a random page and share two sentences from that page. But make sure you don’t share any spoilers!*
*I wish I could take credit for this introduction, but I shamelessly stole it from Heather over at bitsnbooks. To help me make amends, you should go check out her blog.
This week I’m reading The Long Mars by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter, the third (and most likely final) installment of the Long Earth series. I’ve only read the first few pages, but it already appears to be a significant improvement over the other two.
Enough chatter; you want the teaser! Happy to oblige:
Well, there are plenty of contingencies we couldn't
survive at all. A massive enough meteor strike.
In Retrospect
I gave last week’s read The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer 5 out of 5 stars; I’d give more if I could. I’m actually working on writing a review to post here and on Goodreads – unlike the review for Republic of Pirates, which I still haven’t gotten around to . . .
Running In My Head 