Rrrrrr
Penni posted
ten things she likes that begin with D and has bestowed upon me the letter
R. Although research is something quite close to my heart, I'll start off the list with
Reunions. Given the amount of traveling I've done (and plan to keep doing), reunions figure pretty heavily in my life, at least as a concept if not a reality. From my family to friends from high school (some of whom I haven't seen in ten years now) college and work, it seems sometimes that I have more people to meet again than meet in the first place.
The other kind of reunion that's got me all giddy is when bands get back together. Specifically The Police (eeeek). I seriously have every single thing they have ever done. From Fallout to the first ever live performance of Message in a Bottle to their last reworking of Don't Stand So Close to Me, to Sting's solo work, Andy Summers's albums, and Steward Copeland's stint with Animal Logic, I. Have. It. All. So yaay for me and they'd better be planning an Australian tour or I'm getting me some voodoo dolls. What I'm happiest about, really, is the possibility of seeing Steward Copeland drumming--I love what he does and his influence is audible in so many different drummers' work that the prospect of seeing the original is just really exciting. You can read all about it here. Now. On with the rest of the list.
I actually do like Research because it means I can spend hours in the library or at the computer (but more the library, really. Weight, texture, smell, sound..there's so much *more* to books.) leafing through information on obscure facets of obscure subjects.
That said, Reading is so obvious it feels a bit like cheating...maybe I'll do 11 just to make up for that. I've wanted to read ever since I figured out that there was a hell of a lot more going on than people were telling me about (To be precise, I was about 3 years old and, following my mother out of her room after asking what was probably yet another awkward question, I realized I'd been fobbed off with some sort of kiddie explanation.) Now, I come from a long line of looker-uppers whose homes are not complete until filled to bursting with dictionaries, encyclopedias, thesauri, grammars and the like, and I'd already been watching my elders leap for the nearest reference book any time a question came up, so I suppose my assumption was to be expected. I don't remember learning to read, only that I could. I was very disappointed when, soon after learning to string letters together to make words, I found I *couldn't* read everything.
As should be obvious from my previous posts, Remembering is something I do often and at great length. I won't say reminiscing, necessarily, although it does touch on that often enough, because for me remembering is more an exercise in figuring out why things are the way they are as opposed to dwelling on fond memories. I also love the way connections start sparking when you think about something you haven't thought of for a while and realize it's all there still, neatly filed away for you to take out and examine again.
Good or bad, Relationships are ultimately likeable creatures if you listen to what they have to say.
Riding along on motorbikes is definitely something I developed a taste for, though I've done it seldom. Specifically, an impromptu ride on a motorbike on a road that takes you over bridges and past massive trees and lets you look down at the Kathmandu valley, all in the Rain, of course (thanks, Roy).
Rain. Light rain, heavy rain, cold rain, warm rain, rain with thunder and lightning, rain with wind, rain sizzling on hot concrete, rain kicking up dust when it starts, the smell of rain about to fall, the smell of trees and earth in rain, rain you can drive in, rain you can't drive in, rain with rainbows, rains with heavy, angry clouds...
I enjoy Randomness. The way some thoughts just turn up, some links just get made, some people just happen to have a layover where you live. Unplanned, effortless goodness.
Rilke. By far one of my favorite poets although I have yet to learn enough German to read him in the original which, I'm told, far surpasses the translations I've read so far.
Roads. I love travelling, particularly road trips, and particularly when there are two cars or more. There's something about the possibilites, the unknown, the road stretching ahead of you, leading wherever it leads. Winding mountain roads are amazing, particularly the Karakoram Highway, built on the legendary Silk Route. Imagine what amounts to a tiny strip of metalled road slicing through the most gigantic rock faces on the planet. Or imagine being in the Himalayas trekking up an incline and seeing ahead of you a stone tunnel obscured by foliage through which you can still see a glimmer of light at the other end. Or even just driving the steep, winding Salt Range leg of the highway between Islamabad and Lahore. (Yes, I'm slightly mountain mad.) Roads are in-between places. Roads free you from what and where you've been and keep at bay the necessity of being someone, something, somewhere for just that little while longer. Roads are probably where I can be most at peace.
The other kind of reunion that's got me all giddy is when bands get back together. Specifically The Police (eeeek). I seriously have every single thing they have ever done. From Fallout to the first ever live performance of Message in a Bottle to their last reworking of Don't Stand So Close to Me, to Sting's solo work, Andy Summers's albums, and Steward Copeland's stint with Animal Logic, I. Have. It. All. So yaay for me and they'd better be planning an Australian tour or I'm getting me some voodoo dolls. What I'm happiest about, really, is the possibility of seeing Steward Copeland drumming--I love what he does and his influence is audible in so many different drummers' work that the prospect of seeing the original is just really exciting. You can read all about it here. Now. On with the rest of the list.
I actually do like Research because it means I can spend hours in the library or at the computer (but more the library, really. Weight, texture, smell, sound..there's so much *more* to books.) leafing through information on obscure facets of obscure subjects.
That said, Reading is so obvious it feels a bit like cheating...maybe I'll do 11 just to make up for that. I've wanted to read ever since I figured out that there was a hell of a lot more going on than people were telling me about (To be precise, I was about 3 years old and, following my mother out of her room after asking what was probably yet another awkward question, I realized I'd been fobbed off with some sort of kiddie explanation.) Now, I come from a long line of looker-uppers whose homes are not complete until filled to bursting with dictionaries, encyclopedias, thesauri, grammars and the like, and I'd already been watching my elders leap for the nearest reference book any time a question came up, so I suppose my assumption was to be expected. I don't remember learning to read, only that I could. I was very disappointed when, soon after learning to string letters together to make words, I found I *couldn't* read everything.
As should be obvious from my previous posts, Remembering is something I do often and at great length. I won't say reminiscing, necessarily, although it does touch on that often enough, because for me remembering is more an exercise in figuring out why things are the way they are as opposed to dwelling on fond memories. I also love the way connections start sparking when you think about something you haven't thought of for a while and realize it's all there still, neatly filed away for you to take out and examine again.
Good or bad, Relationships are ultimately likeable creatures if you listen to what they have to say.
Riding along on motorbikes is definitely something I developed a taste for, though I've done it seldom. Specifically, an impromptu ride on a motorbike on a road that takes you over bridges and past massive trees and lets you look down at the Kathmandu valley, all in the Rain, of course (thanks, Roy).
Rain. Light rain, heavy rain, cold rain, warm rain, rain with thunder and lightning, rain with wind, rain sizzling on hot concrete, rain kicking up dust when it starts, the smell of rain about to fall, the smell of trees and earth in rain, rain you can drive in, rain you can't drive in, rain with rainbows, rains with heavy, angry clouds...
I enjoy Randomness. The way some thoughts just turn up, some links just get made, some people just happen to have a layover where you live. Unplanned, effortless goodness.
Rilke. By far one of my favorite poets although I have yet to learn enough German to read him in the original which, I'm told, far surpasses the translations I've read so far.
Roads. I love travelling, particularly road trips, and particularly when there are two cars or more. There's something about the possibilites, the unknown, the road stretching ahead of you, leading wherever it leads. Winding mountain roads are amazing, particularly the Karakoram Highway, built on the legendary Silk Route. Imagine what amounts to a tiny strip of metalled road slicing through the most gigantic rock faces on the planet. Or imagine being in the Himalayas trekking up an incline and seeing ahead of you a stone tunnel obscured by foliage through which you can still see a glimmer of light at the other end. Or even just driving the steep, winding Salt Range leg of the highway between Islamabad and Lahore. (Yes, I'm slightly mountain mad.) Roads are in-between places. Roads free you from what and where you've been and keep at bay the necessity of being someone, something, somewhere for just that little while longer. Roads are probably where I can be most at peace.