The Icing

Just want to share my new obsession, Lenine, a Brazilian musician. I love his song "Hoje Eu Quero Sair So" which translates, roughly, to "Today I want to go out alone . . ." Reviewers describe his sound as Brazilian Electronica/R&B/Funk/Jazz/TripHop. I couldn't find a YouTube video I loved, but I'm including a link to the best version I could find.

I love the laid back sound of this song. I'm still working on the translation (it's been a long time since I was fluent in Portuguese)--but I think it's about someone who needs some space in a relationship. The lyrics include lines like: "You don't want me to be trapped in a dark room" and "I won't stay long." I'm not sure I'd call it a tender song, more a "Sometimes I feel like a lone wolf and you'd better accept that if you're going to be with me" song. (And, no, I'm not writing about this because of my own relationship. I loved the music before I ever knew the title or the lyrics.)

This song has crept into my consciousness over the last two months--it's on a playlist of Brazilian music that I listen to every now and again. I haven't even listened to the playlist in its entirety, but some how this song made me want more Lenine.

A better video which showcases his talent is for "Jack Soul Brasileiro."

Lastly, two websites to check out: a great review of his eponymous compilation CD (note the link to the podcast of his performance at South by Southwest in 2006) and Lenine's website.

Enjoy!

I just finished my first week of the semester. Although in many ways I didn't feel ready to go back to school, still, there's something energizing, even hopeful, about the beginning of the semester.

In one class I'm teaching, I asked my students to do a writing self-assessment. As I read through the results in the space between my two classes, I was a little surprised and saddened. Although there were a number of students who had positive experiences with writing, there were a large number who didn't. Many of the students talked about how they'd received negative feedback on their writing, which made them feel dumb . . . and which made the process of writing difficult and in some ways hopeless.

I understand, to some degree. The years writing my dissertation were often painful. I labored on drafts, but they never seemed quite good enough. My dissertation advisor worked to help me make a shift in my critical abilities--but it took time, effort, and a lot of struggle to make the shift. Now, I'm really glad about what I learned in this process, but I can't say I have a positive or even pleasant relationship to certain kinds of writing.

When I read about my students' difficulties with writing, I experienced a surge of idealism. I want to help my students develop a better relationship to writing. I want them to be able to list a number of skills and strategies that they feel competent at by the end of the semester. I want them to have fun with writing assignments, to take risks, and to be proud of the results. Since my students are future elementary school teachers, it feels even more important that I help them learn to both enjoy writing and feel like successful writers.

One thing I know about myself as a teacher is that I will always say something good about the writing they do. But I know that's not enough--many students look at the grade and that's all they see.

So far, my students have been fairly open with me, I think. I've been reading freewrites they did yesterday and I notice those whose expression isn't very fluid. When I get to those students, I think about their self-assessments, their willingness to be honest with me about how they feel. I want that to continue--and I want to help my students recognize their strengths as writers. I know that I'll succeed with some students and fail with others. And I know that at the end of the semester, I'll likely have bittersweet moments assigning final grades.

A few months ago, I blogged about my affection for garbs. In that entry, I mentioned one particularly egregious outfit. Well, yesterday, I received a CD of pictures made from the slides we used to watch as a family. In the 150 plus photos that my brother sent, there was one that portrayed the quintessential garb. It's even worse than I remembered . . .

My friend John recently posted a link to his favorite music videos for the year. I especially liked the one he ranked second, Battles' Atlas. The video portrays musicians playing in a glass box floating in space. They are really focused on their playing and singing--not performing for the observer (us). The clever concept serves as a reminder of the value of art to the creator and participants. Yes, they're probably excited to have an audience and lots of hits on YouTube, but really music is an art form, more about exploring different modes of self-expression than it is about adulation (or so I'd like to believe).

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, my neighbor and best friend Lucia Cluff and I had a "band." I'm hesitant to share what we named ourselves, but here I go . . . we were "The Groovy Two." We weren't a cover band; we wrote our own material. There was our theme song, "The Groovy Two," which I only vaguely remember, and another song called "Airplane, Airplane," which was greatly influenced by "Leaving on a Jet Plane." We'd get up on the wall of the courtyard in front of my house in Tempe, Arizona and give concerts to neighbors and family.

As I grew older, there were times that I'd dream of being in a rock band. I didn't really need to be the focal point of the band, but I did think it would be fun to sing, perform, and otherwise be engaged in the process of creating music. After I learned to play the baritone ukelele, I'd sit in my room playing and singing--and sometimes performing for the family at Christmas or family reunions. As an adult, I subscribed to Rolling Stone magazine and would stay up late to read it, forgetting my fatigue as I read about music. When I started earning more money, I spent a lot of it going to concerts. Music played an important role in carving out an identity that I perceived as being out of the mainstream, an aspect of my identity that continues today.

Last night, I watched the movie, "Once." In it, two people meet, talk, and make music together. One is a street musician and the other is a Czech immigrant whose life is defined by the practicalities of making a living and raising a daughter. Their meeting allows them both to explore their shared interest in making music. It's a lovely, understated film--one that unfolds slowly and subtly. The more I think about the film, the more I like it. I especially enjoyed seeing the joy they both felt as they explored musicianship.

I'll never be a rock star, I know that. But that's beside the point. After watching the film last night, I sat down at my neglected piano and played. I didn't play long, and I didn't play well. But I played with delight.

So, I've been the happy owner of a Mac for a couple of months, but have yet to blog about this change.

I've used PCs for years, mainly because that's what I used at work and therefore it made sense (when I could finally afford a computer) to buy a PC for home. Although I had my frustrations with the occasional crashes and the quirks, no, the consistent problems with Microsoft Word, all I had to compare it with were good memories of using Word Perfect (especially the function that allowed me to reveal and delete codes). When I encountered Macs, I was usually a little confused; I was never really sure how to turn things off, for one thing. Macs seemed like another language that it would take a long time to master, so I stuck with my PC.

Over the years, I've become frightened of the power of viruses, but that wasn't enough to cause me to switch. However, as I've started blogging and doing more advanced work on the computer, I've consistently encountered Microsoft software that is . . . well, buggy. I've tried different RSS Readers, many of which crashed. I've tried different blogging platforms for PCs, all of which crashed. And I started seeing all these cool programs available for Macs that didn't have an equivalent for the PC. Finally, I decided it was time for me to make the change . . . at least at home.

In October I bought the MacBook that I'm using to type this entry. Having a Mac has opened up a lot of possibilities for me. I now use Net News Wire as my RSS Reader. And I recently bought a package of programs that included the very fun Memory Miner (a digital storytelling program), which allows me to combine text, pictures, maps, and historical context for photographs. I still have a lot to explore with Yep (an organizational tool), Xmind (a mapping/webbing software), PulpMotion (which allows me to create slide shows), and Swift Publisher 2 (a publishing program), among other programs. These programs are fun, yes, but they also create computing possibilities that I never knew existed.

I also use Airport Express so that I have wireless in the house (for the computer, for my printer, and for my stereo system). I love that I can now play ITunes over my (admittedly) bad speakers. I can't remember the last time I played an actual CD.

I also love programs that came on my computer like IPhoto, Address Book and ICal. They help to keep me organized--and it's great to have everything in the same place. I'm beginning to see how my computer can help me get control over the piles of paper in both my home and school offices. And I can't say enough about how useful Spotlight is--I can find any file without searching through all the possible places I could have stored it.

I have a lot yet to learn. And sometimes my Mac programs crash (especially ITunes). Nevertheless, I'm glad I made this change. My Mac opens up creative uses of the computer that weren't available to me with my PC. Yes, my school computer is still a PC--but I look forward to a time in when all my computers will be Macs.

See the picture at the top of this entry? That was the first day I opened my MacBook. I've internalized that smile. I'm a happy and proud Mac owner.