Things I Learned This Week
Harvard, Bastard from a Basket, Winogrand, Ellison, and The Archer
Only a few class days are left, and I had to take some time off last week. I'm still not feeling up to this, but I promised myself to keep at it, so...
I donated to Harvard this week. I know, right? I didn’t go there. I’ve, in fact, never been there. (Have I?) Even if the government cuts their funds, they still have a shit ton of money. So what gives? All I know is that if folks in Washington don’t grow some Harvard-sized balls and fast, we are screwed because the thing people feared was going to happen is already full-on happening.
On a slightly lighter note, we rewatched There Will Be Blood a few months ago. I won’t write about the movie because we’ve all seen it. It’s fabulous, right? Paul Thomas Anderson is a genius. Daniel Day-Lewis is a master. Yeah, yeah. What has stuck with me is something that Daniel’s character, Daniel, says to his adopted son at the end. He calls him a “bastard from a basket.” I’m not sure why I am writing about it even now, but something about that play of words stuck with me. They keep replaying in my head over and over. That line is a perfect cadence full of anger and rejection. It’s like Eliot’s Prufrock—just perfect meaning and bounce. Anyways…
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Now that I have gotten through Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, I can self-assuredly say it’s one of the best novels ever written. It’s so of our current time in how it critiques both white racism and the failings of leftist organizations. A must must must read. I’ve been running short on time, so, admittedly, I did multitask the reading with an audiobook and ten thumbs up for Joe Morton’s incredible narration. That man can act. If you have 19 hours to kill, I highly recommend it.
My husband turned me on to Gary Winogrand, and we watched an excellent documentary about his life and work made by filmmaker and VCU professor Sasha Waters Freyer. A New York photographer, he eventually taught at The University of Texas and photographed in and around San Marcos, where Texas State is located. If you are into street or midcentury photography, it’s a good one to check out with the inevitable sad ending plus a birds-eye-view on the changing tastes of the art world and society at large.
Lastly, this week, I’ve been repeatedly listening to a Taylor Swift playlist a good friend made for me. I had never listened to her before, and last year, I asked a friend and known Swiftie to make me a starter playlist. A Taylor Swift 101, if you will. This was right before her last album came out, and being a career-long fan, my friend went deep into the archives. My friend is a femme singer-songwriter fan (Lana, Kacey, Maggie, you know), but with Taylor, it is different. She loved listening to Taylor when she was a little girl, and as she grew up, that love evolved into a fierce devotion. I was never a fan. I guess I thought her stuff seemed too pop, too romantic, too overly maudlin. But I mean, how are those feelings any different than what The Smiths did to a teen me? So, over the past year, I’ve put my music snob inclinations aside and grown into an admirer. You have to respect an artist who can make those sorts of emotional ties with people, especially women. And that’s the thing about music. It’s a connector. It brings people together. The thing this young Taylor fan taught me (and by association, Taylor Swift) is you have to stay open to everything. You must open your ears and heart to the world, even if it hurts. Especially when it hurts. If you don’t want to listen to the whole playlist, just listen to this one. My friend especially loves this song, so I thought I’d share it this morning in celebration of connecting.
Quote of the week?
Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.
It's the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here's a happy one for you.
Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again.
Happy trails to you,
Keep smiling until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we're together?
Just sing a song, and bring the sunny weather.
Happy trails to you,
Until we meet again. — Dale Evans
‘Til Tuesday kids.
Burgin
(I’m finishing college at 50+, follow along and read my story here.)