A recurring dream

I’ve been having variations on the same dream lately. I’m either at a boarding school or college, and I’m enrolled in some sort of English literature course. The gist of the dream is that I’ve skipped a lot of classes and am way behind in the reading. I’m usually feeling a combination of anxiety and confusion about how to extricate myself from this situation.

This morning the feelings were particularly nuanced. I was aware that this was a required class, a class I otherwise would not enroll in. I remember feeling a mild curiosity about the class in general, but mainly a feeling of… opacity, like I was never going to “get” what was going on, or there was some sort of barrier between me and those who are in the know. I’m never actually sitting in the classroom, though; I’m just dreading going or doing the reading.

(As a former math teacher, I’m well aware that this is how many students feel about required math classes: what’s the point? how do I plod through this? what are other people seeing here that I’m not? I’d like to think that this sensitivity makes me a better teacher.)

Back to the dream. The distinct feeling underlying the dream was familiar – feeling a bit like an outsider, not “getting” what seems to interest other people. I sometimes feel this way in a few different real life situations; historically I think I’ve always felt like a bit of an outlier. In the best of times I’m a proud nerd with my own esoteric interests, not expecting most other people to share them. Sometimes, though, it’s reversed; I feel disconnected from what most other people seem to share.

So what’s nagging me nowadays? What’s not fitting? Sitting on the sofa this morning I could almost recall the dream feeling, as if I were surrounded by a translucent, flexible shell. If I concentrate hard I can push against it, watch the membrane thin and clear as I get a glimpse of the “real” world. Then I relax, retreat, and feel slightly apart from it all.

I think it’s best that I work out the details of this in my private journal. I’m glad to be back to the blog (has it really been over a year?). As two new maker spaces open locally, and I anticipate some personal shop space at home, I’d like to get back to blogging about my projects.


Grieving the loss of another Maker space

As of November 15, 2017, the TechShop – a world-wide network of Maker spaces – has declared bankruptcy and shut down. This is the second Maker space I’ve belonged to that has gone under in the past few years (the first being the Sawdust Shop).

For those of us living in apartments or smaller homes, these places provided both a physical space for creating as well as a community of fellow woodworkers. Knitters can bring a bag to a coffee shop, artists can bring a sketch book to a park bench, but woodworkers generally need a bench and tools (even hand tools) that are a bit awkward to lug around. Instead of fabric snippets or eraser dust that’s easily cleaned with a broom, we product sawdust and wood chips, the former being a nuisance if inhaled. Hand saws, chisels, clamps… as a bundle these weigh more than can be easily carried in one trip.

On top of losing a workspace, I’ve lost the gathering place of like-minded crafts people. We all grow through the give-and-take of advice and commiserating over mistakes (or “happy little accidents” as the art teacher Bob Ross used to call them).

I’m smack in the middle of building a drafting table for my step-daughter. To add insult to injury, half of my project is locked in a building that’s now in Chapter 7; I’m told we’ll be able to retrieve our possessions at some unspecified future date. I’ll be able to finish it at my dining table, but that’s a bit of an inconvenience to my family. I was planning on starting a jewelry box and another guitar this Autumn, and now I’ll be re-thinking how to establish a studio space at home.

That’s all for now – I just needed a place to share my sorrow. Perhaps later I’ll reflect on the economics of establishing a shared communal space in a high-rent community like the Bay Area.

Happy Academic New Year

I’ve always felt that the new year really begins around the Autumnal Equinox. Perhaps it’s the Jewish half of my genotype acting up, or the fact that I spent so much of my life in or around academic institutions.

There are lots of new beginnings – Stanford has welcomed the class of 2020 (and I get to advise a handful of these Frosh on their early academic choices). After a sort of rolling beta-test I’ve got the course evaluation system under control, and can now turn my attention to the (more) important work of actually making sense of what students are telling us. I’ve got wood for Guitar #004 sitting on the shelf, and will be chronicling that project as it develops. The girls have started high school, and my sweetie is on her way back to the workforce.

As the sun sets earlier in the day I find myself spending more evening time at home, which  means I’ll have more time and incentive to build, blog, and play music.  Maybe I’ll even get back into cooking again…

I’m feeling optimistic about this coming year, and look forward to writing about what I’m learning along the way.

Dark at 5:30? Must be flan time

I’m home sick today, my 3rd day on the new job. 😦 Not the best timing for a virus. I was also struck by how bleak and dark it felt in the apartment, while the clock read only 5:30. At that point the thing I wanted most was fresh flan, which I don’t think I’ve made since, oh, around the solstice last year.

It’s fun, in a way, to watch our animal natures at work; I’ve always been sensitive to daylight cycles, and those two months surrounding the solstice have typically seen increases in comfort eating, weight gain, and mild depression. That last point was brought under better control last year through a daylight spectrum lamp, and this winter I’m getting to sit next to a sunny window at work.  Baking flan is not going to do any favors for my weight, but once the virus passes I’m going to start biking to work regularly, which adds an extra hour plus of activity I wouldn’t have otherwise enjoyed.

Meanwhile, we have another mass shooting. I can’t even go there right now. However, I did come across an analysis of why Trump is allowed to get away with telling outright lies, and it implicates the mass media in our collective ignorance of politics. It’s one of those pieces I wish I’d written myself.

But my sweetie and her daughter are home safely from Paris, and I’m looking forward to sinking my teeth into new work challenges. The flan is firming up. The cats have started grooming themselves again (what, I wasn’t good enough for them?) Lots to be thankful for on an otherwise gloomy Wednesday.


Every time I sit down to write…

… about the latest outrageous comment uttered by a Republican Presidential “front runner,” something even more ludicrous or dangerous appears in my news feed. I literally cannot keep up with it all.

I’m not going to spend my evening digging up hyperlinks and footnotes to all of the craziness; if you’ve been reading the news at all, you’ve read about the dangerously dark turn Donald Trump has been making toward outright Fascism. In spite of Goodwin’s Law, it is not unreasonable to compare Trump’s tactics to Hitler’s.

Then, just when I think I’ve got a handle on an idea, we have a shooting at the Colorado Planned Parenthood. After killing a police officer and wounding many others, somehow this white suspect was disarmed and captured alive. Contrast this with the released video of Laquan McDonald’s murder by police (there’s just no other word for it), where a Black suspect is gunned down while surrounded by police cars.

I can’t keep up with this madness.

The viciousness against Black citizens is nothing new, though; it’s only new to White people who now get to witness it thanks to cell phone cameras and police videos. It’s a mistake to think that the violence is escalating simply because White exposure to it has been intensifying; Black citizens have been telling stories like this for years. This helps explain why Trump continues to lead in the polls. It’s not as if a plurality of Republican voters only recently decided “heck, a racist White strong man is better than any of these other bozos” – that attitude has been brewing for a long time. It only took one (now several) candidates to cast aside the polite dog whistle language and say what they’re really thinking.

A few postings ago I wrote a bit about practicing empathy, in particular being present to another’s repulsive ideas. I also talked about the difference between accepting a situation and condoning it. Trump is a perfect case in point. We cannot ignore him or dismiss him as a clown any longer; in particular, we can’t shrug our shoulders and say “yeah, but he has no chance of winning anyway…”

The poisonous ideologies that led to Trump being a front-runner did not appear overnight, and they will take a long time to eradicate. For that to happen will take a social movement on par with the 1960’s. (BTW, Greta Christina has posted a good blog piece on Letting go of Sixties Envy. Basically, the 1960’s are happening all over again, and if you’ve ever wondered what you might have done during the Civil Rights movement, you now have a chance to find out.)

I’m too agitated at the moment to think clearly about what my next steps should be. At the very least, I can maintain vigilance and speak up against injustice. I can bear witness. Engage the young people in my life in age-appropriate discussions of these issues.  But as sociologists have noticed, we’re tending more and more to surround ourselves with people who think like we do; I’d have to work hard to think of anyone in my social circle who even remotely supports Trump, Carson, and the like.

Coincidentally, I start work on a university campus tomorrow. I’m curious what tone the coffee house conversations will take.

That wasn’t so bad

Just a quick update – the bending operation went far more smoothly than I expected. Once the iron was hot it took less than an hour to bend both sides. I’m happy with the outcome – the shape conforms to the template to a reasonable degree of tolerance. These sides are definitely a bit thinner than the last guitar; they bent far more easily. Whether that will lead to a structural weakness remains to be seen. Sadly, the GoPro was completely out of juice, so there is no video of the process.


Bent sides resting in a mold

I want to revisit a topic I wrote about last week, the madness of what passes for political rhetoric nowadays and the anti-empathic messages we’re hearing. But I’m just too frazzled at the moment – tomorrow is my last full time day at SRI and I just want to relax this evening.

My blogging buddy Kris reminded us that this “promise” to blog daily only matters to the degree that it serves a purpose. While I’m perfectly capable of pushing myself through a 30-day challenge, I don’t feel the need to force myself to write every day at the moment. I’m simply grateful for the reminder to write this month, and will see whether I can turn this into a more regular habit.

Bending things

My shop time has been spent prepping fixtures and forms; today I actually worked on the guitar sides a bit, thinning them to around 2mm in preparation for bending. The last time I did this, I used a power drum sander – think giant rolling pin covered with sandpaper. That tool ensured uniformity of thickness across length and width.

This time, not having a drum sander handy, I used the old fashioned method of hand planing. The thickness gauge in the photo reveals I’m off by +/- 10% in places – I don’t think that will cause a problem, but who knows? That’s part of the learning curve. The two problems I can imagine are 1) uneven bending when I apply heat, resulting in “lumpy” curves, and/or 2) structural weakness if the wood is much thinner than 2mm. Structural weakness may not show up for years, so this could be a very long term learning project.

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Sides thinned to 2mm, more or less

I plan on bending the sides tomorrow, and I may wear a GoPro to capture some of the process on video. I don’t know if it will translate to video very well; so much of the sensory feedback is in the hands, feeling the wood relax under heat.

In other learning news, I attended a concert tonight by Denis Azabagic, a rising star in the classical guitar world. He opened his concert by playing all five preludes of Villa-Lobos; coincidentally, I’m working on three of them in various stages of preparation. The first prelude is one of my favorite guitar pieces, so it was a treat to hear it played by a world-class performer. Also gratifying was that he played it fairly romantically, with lots of expression.

I came across a YouTube master class by Julian Bream (an English guitarist) from the 1970’s, and his advice to a student took the interpretation in a different direction. Even while acknowledging the piece should be played with expression, he encouraged the student to keep the rhythm of the accompaniment relatively strict. You can see Bream explaining this in the video below, and his example performance picks up at the 7:40 time mark. In my opinion, the piece is a bit lifeless in his hands.

Here’s Azabagic playing that same section for a student of his (I’m also grateful that Azabagic places lots of his lessons on YouTube for public consumption – talk about an open educational resource!). There are subtle differences that make it come alive; he plays with dynamics and tempo a lot more freely than Bream.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a professional guitar teacher; in many ways I’m learning about musical interpretation on my own. So what to do when two different authorities suggest very different approaches to the same piece? This isn’t merely an issue of “my opinion is as good as your opinion, so I’ll just go with mine” – both of these musicians have spent years – decades – mastering their craft, and I suspect that if pushed, both would be able to justify their interpretations in terms of music theory, local culture, and what we know of the composer’s intent (or performance, since Villa-Lobos was a guitarist himself).

My dissertation research focused on how adolescents make sense of conflicting claims by authority figures, and here I am doing the same thing. Unlike an adolescent, I know there are frameworks that justify aspects of musical performance (in addition to the personal predilections of the performer). My job as an adult is to work on learning those “rules” and when to bend them.

And yet… there’s a difference between, say, simply knowing the rules of logic, and framing a compelling written argument. The latter takes a degree of creativity and artistry. Same with interpretation of music – the point is to bring my own feeling and “take” on the piece into the performance, while at the same time respecting the overall structure and expectations surrounding it (playing it with a country swing rhythm would be a no-no.)

Tomorrow I bend the sides of my new instrument. The wood is not strictly thicknesses – that +/- 10% (or more) may or may not add “color” to the sound. It also might result in a catastrophic structural failure. As with the interpretation of a piece of music, a little variation adds color, but too much destroys the underlying structure. I’m hoping luck is on my side tomorrow.