Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Monday, July 30, 2007

Ingmar Bergman

As close as I can get to a tribute to Ingmar BermanSomething tells me I should write about the passing of Ingmar Bergman, but the only thing that comes to mind is "he was only 89?!" I know 89 is a respectable age and all, but still--I thought Bergman was well passed 90, maybe even a hundred by now.

Why? Well simply because of his subject matter and the fact that his films always seemed like the films that a 60-plus-year-old would direct. Fanny and Alexander is a prime example. I thought that he directed that when he was in his 80's, but that was 20 or more years ago.

Perhaps I was just thinking of Kurosawa?


Mood:  a pre-tribute to Igmar Bergman's deathIn any case, Bergman has some of the most beautifully slow movies I've ever had the pleasure to have wash over me (weird camera angles between talking characters and all.) He also dealt with compelling subject matter that, while seeming to be so dark, also had a sort of hope to it--a sort of human density, if that makes any sense. I mean come on! Wasn't he the same age as Fellini? Actually I guess he was older than Fellini by a couple of years. Why does that age of film directors seem so ancient? Why am I surprised that Bergman just died when (in fact) I had assumed he had died two decades ago?

Here's to ponderous and calculated!*

*Sorry Sleepy E, I couldn't resist.

Friday, July 27, 2007

String theory

There's a certain quality of light in the kitchen
At eleven a.m. on a mid-summer morning
That makes me wish my mother and father
Were still alive.

We could sit and drink coffee while the light
Plays out glossy gray over the walnut table,
Their hands would be old and wrinkled now,
And their hair completely white.

We could talk about what my life would be like
If either of them had died when I was so young--
If they weren't here to drink coffee with me
And watch me wonder at the quality of light.

But I know what that's like.
I drink my coffee alone while the late morning
Light shimmers, iridescent, over its surface

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

O! Pioneers!

What better way to celebrate our pioneer heritage than two-stepping it? Come and trip it as you go, on the light fantastic toe, as it were. Dance along with Brother Brigham if you dare!

Monday, July 23, 2007

Happy plants

Happy plants, originally uploaded by Theorris.

Garden update: I've harvest 2 tomatoes, one serano pepper, a crop of parsley, and various grabs of Thai basil. Not a great production quota, but at least I grew it on my own.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Incidents in rudeness

Yo la tengo, originally uploaded by Theorris.

So I was at the Gallivan Center last night to see The Fiery Furnaces and Yo La Tengo. I was in the crowd for a good long while snapping photos, and had thought I saw someone I knew in the back of the crowd. While moving out of the crowd, I passed a woman who said "I know that hat! You're Clint!"

I think I probably would have said something like "do I know you?" but I thought I recognized the woman as the person who stole my hat for hours while at Green Street a few months back. It took quite a lot to get my then brand-new hat back from her. Just moments before, as well, the woman's friend (who was also at the Green Street affair) had proceeded to accidentally kick me and also knock over my beer. She then fled into the crowd with the promise that she would get me another.

"That's right," I said and moved away towards the back of the crowd to find the people I knew before they moved.

This morning I received the following flickr mail from one of my flickr contacts:

"I was the total stranger who said I recognized your hat. Hope that wasn't too bizarre. You seemed rather horrified, so I decided to let it go at that."

I blame the beer (well that and my naturally ornery self.)

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Bowling, anyone?

What better way to spend a horrifically humid evening in SLC than go to a hot, sticky bowling alley?

How the hell did we go from 106.3 to humid and 90ish in 3 days?

You can smell the dry desert on the air, however.

It is why I live here. You can feel your sweat and your sweetness evaporate as our friend the sun beats down on your unfortunate head.

You can understand what bone dry means. and you can understand what blood wet means.

You can feel compassion for thirsty plants.

You can feel compassion for cacti inadvertently flown to the tropics.

I live in a beautiful, confused place.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Heaven will look like this

Glaciated, originally uploaded by Theorris.

Well it better, God damn it.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Hat trick

Hat trick, originally uploaded by Theorris.

My grandpa used to grow daylilies by the thousand. He was a farmer, afterall, and liked all manner of plants and growing things. As for daylilies: it is kind of cool to think that a flower only blooms for one day and then wilts.

Radio Lab

This week's This American Life podcast featured an excerpt from Radio Lab a cool show out of WNYC. Radio Lab has some very unique production methods such as narration that talks over interviews. The production tends to make the show engaging, but the content is the thing, of course, that makes at least the current episode stellar. The current episode is on morality, and how a moral sense is most likely ingrained in our our brain structures as well as in the brains of some other animals. As a research scientist Dr. Joshua Greene states of a genetic disposition to morality: "We think of basic human morality as being handed down from on high, and it is probably better to say that it was handed up from below--that our most basic, core, moral values are not the things that we humans have invented, but the things that we've actually inherited from other people. The stuff that we humans have invented are the things that seem more peripheral and variable" (Radio Lab, "Morality," 12:28-12:48).

Fascinating stuff.

Monday, July 09, 2007


Greens, originally uploaded by Theorris.

Taken at the SLC Farmer's Market (as was the cantaloupe picture): buy local, beyotch!

Cantaloupe #2

Cantaloupe #2, originally uploaded by Theorris.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Garden update: Thai basil

Garden update: Thai basil, originally uploaded by Theorris.

The Thai basil is ready for me to make a nice curry. I need to get on that.

Garden update: parsley

Garden update: parsley, originally uploaded by Theorris.

The parsley, as well, is ready for me to make tabouli. That's more likely in this heat, although the tomatoes are a month out.

Garden update: Roma tomatoes

Garden update: Roma tomatoes, originally uploaded by Theorris.

The tomatoes have set fruit and are enjoying the heat. I have to water them frequently, however, since tomatoes of any variety are conspicuous water gluttons.

Garden update: poblano pepper

Garden update: poblano pepper, originally uploaded by Theorris.

None of my two varieties of pepper (poblano and jalapeno) have set fruit yet.

Garden update: eggplant

Garden update: eggplant, originally uploaded by Theorris.

The eggplants are very far out. I'll be lucky to see any fruit by September. Oh well--it was an experiment to see if I could actually grow an eggplant in a pot.

Garden update: second fungal disaster

In late March my Italian basil fell victim to fussilium wilt (a fungus.) I noted today that one of my Roma's had blossom-end rot (also cause by a fungus brought on by a lack of calcium in the soil--which makes no sense since we in Utah have hugely calcified water and soil.) Fungus is my bane.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Wayne Coyne's Guide to Festival Survival

Sage advice from Wayne Coyne (Flaming Lips) for your summer festival enjoyment:

WC: The idea that you go to a festival and you feel like you have to see everything, all your favorite bands, I think sometimes that can kind of wear you down. It has to be like eating at the Golden Corral, where it's all you can eat, until you try to eat the barbecue chicken and the calamari. By the time you get to the fourth thing, you're burned out. My suggestion to people is just enjoy your day. Your band is playing, you get to see a little bit of them. Go see them for 10 or 15 minutes, and enjoy your friends and enjoy your day. As the sun goes down, it's a lot easier to endure."


WC: I think the worst thing is don't get drunk and pass out by 1 o'clock in the afternoon and be the guy who's laying out in the open field throwing up at 2 in the afternoon. We see that all the time, like my God, how big of a miscalculation was that? The guy's laying there, and he's going to get sunburned, and it's just miserable. Not only that, he's going to feel worse after this, and he's missing the show at the same time. So if you've never drunk that much beer before, don't try it at a festival in the middle of the summer. I think it's better if you're younger, too. The older you get, the more you're like, "Why would I want to stand in the heat all day with a bunch of drunk morons?" When you're young, and the possibility of having sex is in the air, and you're seeing new things, that's a beautiful thing. ("Wayne Coyne's Guide to Festival Surval", The Onion AV Club)
I'm going to see the Flaming Lips in September at the Monolith Festival in the Red Rocks Amphitheatre. Luckily it will be cooler by then. I also don't plan on exploiting the VIP bar and make a the terrible miscalculation that Wayne mentions.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Failed analogy

Given that it is summer, I thought I would provide you with just snack writing, gentle reader. Snacks are the best summer cuisine. Rather than "snacks" I think we should use the Spanish word tapas. When I think of Spain I think of eternal summer, even though I know it is not aways summer there and they do, indeed have cold weather, pine trees, and snow.

One can dream of the land of eternal summer, however.

So the point of tapas is not to have a point. You just eat small portions until you are full, drink some wine, and then fall asleep beneath and Andalusian sky.

You wake up to bread and cheese and then start the whole thing over again. That's what summer is and that is what writing in the summer is.

Too bad it has to end.