In science there is only physics. All the rest is stamp collecting. – Ernest Rutherford.
Maybe it’s because I used to be a stamp collector (molecular genetics lab tech), but I can’t resist the urge to measure things that don’t really need to be measured. Iceland Airwaves was a five-day MFA program in music that quite literally changed the way I hear music. When I came home, I put on my old CDs and sometimes I could barely recognize the once-familiar music – I just heard different things.
That should be enough. But no, useless data must follow.
The northern lights failed to create the proper cinematic effect after Sigur Rós’ concert, but the morning-after rain was a perfect visual for the movie version. I tried to write, but it was useless. Such a wide variety of music juxtaposed over such a short time had sparked more new ideas than I could process. My cup had run over so forcefully it toppled off the table and landed upside down on the floor. I had finally achieved the martial artist’s “empty cup,” the beginner’s mind. Read More
Pollyblog: 1. When you don’t want to say too much, but 140 characters just won’t cover it. 2. Good ideas that haven’t got their legs yet.
Family, Defined
Because our family is partly built through adoption, we spend a little more time defining what ‘family’ means.
I mentioned that I returned from Iceland Airwaves to a lice breakout at my daughter’s school. Ever since, I have spent up to two hours each night checking every head in the house for recurrences. Like the monsters in horror movies, every time I think it’s over, they rise from the dead to attack again.
This has resulted in some very cranky exchanges, as my daughters begin to take every tugged tangle personally, and I fight the urge to scream in frustration. Tonight the girls’ dad tried to break the negativity by letting each girl pick the music we listened to while they got their heads checked.
My oldest immediately shouted, “Lady Gaga!” A second later, she said, “No, wait. Journey, because that’s less annoying for mommy.”
The result; me and my daughter belting out “Don’t Stop Believing” as I searched her head for lice.
And I thought of the words of H.I. McDunna, “What! We got a family here!”
When the Sigur Rós show ended, I drifted like a dust mote, following the crowd of thousands walking back to the 101. Outside, everyone stopped to stare at the sky. The Northern lights danced as a meteor shower sent dozens of shining white falling stars through the green waves. Read More
On the final night of Airwaves 2012, Sigur Rós played their first home town show in years. The only venue in town big enough was the sports stadium in Laugardalur. My English friend and I arrived at the stadium about fifteen minutes before the doors were scheduled to open. The line ran the length of the building, and soon wrapped around out of site. Even so, someone pulled into an empty parking spot right in front of us. Thousands of people were going to this show, but most of them were walking. Read More
