LoV-Write

Fictional Realism

Dear You,

I know it’s been awhile since I wrote, but I wanted to get your take on this idea I’m playing with:

The idea is that the world is a massive book: an encyclopedia which, like Hermione’s bag, can be entered and explored. How I picture it is as a maze of letters: rows of books within books and shelves upon shelves containing and composing the history of the Universe. It’s the Library of Babel and the number 42. It’s extensive, complete, and vast, but ultimately limited to the constraints of Time.

What this means, I think, is that the split seconds are recorded with intensive detail by some unknown “scribes” of this encyclopedia, and the day to day realities of life are reduced to a story which, in our histories, are perceived as fictions even though they really occurred. That is, Napolean is no longer a person, but a character in a story because we can only know the man through the written texts. And, like a character in a fiction, our understanding of these historical figures are limited by the information we have available.

In fact, every interaction we have in the day-to-day is reduced to a kind of vague document outlining the events, but lacking the minutia of the split thoughts and partial comprehensions.

This encyclopedia or library, then, is a multifaceted construct which preserves both the crust and the core of these histories. Some of the entries or books provide the minutia, while some relate only the vaguest of suppositions.

It’s difficult for me to digest, but it’s like this: the world is literature, and we are readers and critics assessing the story and pulling meaning from the words we understand.

I’m not sure how this thought came to my brain, I think, perhaps, from reviewing my old journals and realizing that I understand and imagine the past in the same way that I understand and imagine the stories I read.

I’d like to know what you think of this,

I’m not sure when I’ll write again, but I will when I will.

Until the previous time we’ve met,

Your friend

 

Learning Curves: Marketing, Signings, and Planning Ahead.

I held my first “real” book signing June 28 at the Sheridan Fulmer Public Library in Sheridan, Wyoming. The turn out was non-existent, but, when I think about it, I’m not really surprised.  I’d like to take a moment and point out my “miss-steps” on the off-chance you ever plan an event. Many of them are common sense, but here’s my defence:

My primary miss-step was poor marketing, and this comes down to a series of events I’ve dubbed “The Book Ordereal” (because it was an ordeal surrounding my book order). But that doesn’t matter because that Ordereal comes down to poor planning on my part, and bridges into the point of this entry: planning is a must for marketing.

I received my books last Friday, and, since the Ordereal had me questioning the reality of my orders, I didn’t create a Facebook page or flyers for my event until Tuesday (June 24) of that week. Therefore: no one knew about the event aside from me and a few people far far away.

That aside, it isn’t a complete loss because I know better now and I know what I need for my next event in Buffalo, Wyoming on July 12: a plan. My plan, which I have initiated, is this: create a facebook page for the event and make some flyers.

So far I’ve done both, and hund flyers in the library and a couple local shops. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon when I managed to have time to print said flyers so I didn’t canvass many places, but, I hope, this event will have a wider turnout than just myself.

 

Dear Reader: LoV-Write on Amazon

Dear Reader,

I mentioned before that December is now avbailable on Amazon.com, and now I have an official author page there as well. There you’ll find a brief biography, a link to this blog and my twitter feed. But that’s not all. You’ll also find a picture of me. It’s a self-portrait I took by using my camera’s timer, a tripod, and a mirror; I then edited it on my computer for a sepia tone.

With my updated Amazon, I have also updated the About LoV-Write page. Now you’ll find a more complete explanation of my brand name as well as a short author biography and photograph.

 

Until the previous time,

 

Judah LoVato

Bloomsday 2014: Sing In Me, Muse…

Aside from presuming to reference the Odyssey (which I’ve read only once in a Freshman philosophy course four years ago), I’m also presuming to write about Bloomsday, that is, Ulysses, by James Joyce.

Bloomsday, if you don’t know, is today: 16 June, 2014. It is a commemoration of the life and work of James Joyce, and it is based on his monstrous novel Ulysses which takes place on this day in 1904.

I’ll confess, I’m sort of jumping on the band wagon rather late: I only realized Bloomsday was a thing last month, when I visited the James Joyce Centre in Dublin. There I learned something about Joyce and his work, and today I’m just beginning to understand.

My understanding began when, in the spirit of the wagon, I wanted to know what people do on Bloomsday. Perhaps, consume a mutton kidney, or take a walk by the beach, or, in the evening- well, somethings are best left unsaid.

But it was this search for involvement that lead me to an article in Vanity Fair called “Bloomsday is a Travesty, but Not for the Reason You Think” (James S. Murphy). This article made me more aware of just how little I know about James Joyce and his work.

Murphy discusses the history of Ulysses as a vulgar, banned text, and how Joyce as a writer would probably be bothered by the holiness of the day.

“Bloomsday celebrations treat Joyce too much like a saint and his book too much like a gospel to be revered first and read later, if at all. By placing Ulysses on a pedestal, we lose sight of both its vulgar origins and its power to tell us deep truths about our world and ourselves precisely by keeping the earthy and obscene aspects of ourselves in view.”

So this makes me wonder about the text. I’ve started the text twice in the last three years, while attending college and taking classes, and both times I found that I could not immerse myself enough to get anything out it. Like a “gospel”, it is a text that requires a great deal of time and energy to read well, and a reader who isn’t prepared to immerse fully in the text will miss out.

But I’m presuming again, to talk about books I haven’t read as though I have some knowledge from my own understanding! What I’m writing here is still only a parrot of the mind of Murphy and, through Murphy, a man named Birmingham.

“Luckily,” wrote Murphy, “a new book by the literary scholar Kevin Birmingham, The Most Dangerous Book: The Battle for James Joyce’s Ulysses, can help us recall Ulysses for what it was and should still be, a shocking novel that tore at decency and tradition as it clawed its way into existence rather than a “classic” that sits happily on an educated person’s bookshelf for eternity, never to be pulled down.”

Here, like the sinner in the pews, I’m finding moral conviction from the words of this literary “preacher”. And I’m beginning to experience Joyce as a fellow writer and human being. I can’t say I know diddly about his work, but I can say that I’ve started a journey with an uncertain end. I’m parroting these writers now, but maybe we all need the crutches of another’s words as we learn to speak for ourselves.

So here is the beginning of my appreciation of Joyce and general literature: the affirmation that literature is seeping, and slow-working. Though I’ll parrot Murphy again, he expresses this with a paraphrase:

“Birmingham compared reading Ulysses to taking a slow-acting drug that gradually reshapes our understanding of ourselves, working its way into our consciousness as we read it, unsettling who we are.”

So, on this Bloomsday, read well and read carefully, but be warned: you may find your understanding altered.

 

 

Rocky Road to Dublin: Post III

Dear You,

It was a Thursday night -in Dingle- and we had just finished drinking wine with a fellow named Wally and his buddy Peanut.

By “we” I mean myself and one other, who I’ll call Cyprus Rotor, had shared two bottles of wine in the course of three hours. Our first bottle was an Australian white called “Wally’s Hut”, and the second was a Pinot Grigio. I forget the brand. Hence: Wally and Peanut. When we had finished the second bottle, we walked back to the main street -we had been sitting on the shore along the marina- to a pub called “The Court House”.

We had been to the Court House the night before, and there we had met some locals as well as a fellow traveler. The locals were lovely. One, a young woman who sang and played guitar, was simply captivating. She sang and spoke with a wonderful confidence which is hard to explain. What I found most pleasing is that she sung “I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

The other local, a manager at the Grapevine Hostel, was a charming man. He played classical guitar and listened to the Beatles. He also knew “Romance” by Juanillo d’Alba and the song “I’m My Own Grandpa”. Essentially, both of these locals had a similar taste in non-current music that Cyprus and I also had.

The fellow traveler was different. He was a lad of 18, long dark hair and Californian with pleasent features and an endearing honesty. It was strange for me, in talking to him, to recognize a fellow spirit. This Californian had had an incredible journey of injury and sequences* which lead to our meeting and my giving him a copy of my book which, I hoped, would have something to say to him.

This was a fine evening, and both Cyprus and I stayed up far too late speaking with these people. She went off with Grapevine manager, and I went to a different pub with California and Singer. Though I could go into the minute details of this evening, the point is less the conversation and more the drink that I discovered while I was there:

It was Dingle Gin, and, like the people of that evening, I had taken only a short sample of its flavour and character. It is a beverage, however, (and they are people) who will linger for many years to come in my memories of Ireland.

*Sequences is an idea I’ve taken from the work of Patrick F. McManus.

 

LoV-Write: Twitter and Pinterest

LoV-Write is now on Twitter and Pinterest.

My Twitter feed (in all it’s poorly managed glory), features the little snippets of information which are too short for my blog, as well as links to my blod posts.

LoV-Write on pinterest features boards of information relating to published and upcoming books. Be sure to see the December board to see pictures of Plymouth, England and some of the places mentioned in December.

And have I mentioned that December is now on Amazon? December is now on amazon, available as both an eBook and paperback.

TTFN

 

Judah

 

 

Rocky Road to Dublin: Post II

(Or: a letter of resigned frustration)

I don’t intend to write chronologically. I hardly mean to write logically, yet, strangely, there’s a certain logic to it: things are connected. What I mean to say is that something that happened four weeks ago has real repurcussions today.

Four weeks ago I was in Ireland, Galway in fact, and I had just been paid my monthly student salary. I had to order books for an event on June 8, and I knew I had had to order them yesterday for them to make it in on time. I made a mess of the order. I put money on the wrong card and asked for a different address than is on my file.

I kept my fingers crossed.

The weeks passed and I had returned from Ireland. I was preparing for my book event June 8 in Billings, MT. No books. I kept waiting. No books. The event came and went. Still no books. Now today is June 10, and I need to continue my journey. No books.

But this strange failure is cause for reflection: what could I have done to make the order work? Email the week before to request a post-poned payment? Checked and double checked my card to make sure I had money on the right one?

Any number of things. But this is done and gone, and the sad reality is I have no books. I have, however, learned something for myself: a something I will keep to myself.

Lost and Found Restaurant

A few weeks ago a fire gutted the Laramie Vision Clinic on 408 South Second Street, and closed the entire block for about five days.  Though most of the businesses are open again, the Vision Clinic’s neighbors are taking their time.

One neighbor, the Lost and Found restaurant, hopes to open officially the week of June 9. But that doesn’t mean they’re idle.

The shoes belong to the son of one of the chefs

Shadow from the back door sign

Apart from drying their building after its soaking May 24, the restaurant staff prepared a meal for the Wyoming Entrepreneurs and Small Business Development Center.

The WE and SBDC are operate through the University of Wyoming, and offer educational and advice centered resources to small businesses.  Lost and Found is a client of theirs.

The preparations began around 4:30 in the afternoon. The interior of the building was still disordered with furniture huddled together for safety. Alex, a main server, moved the furniture and set out five tables in a line for the evening banquet.

The tables were covered with white cloths, and set, temporarily with plates and cutlery to ensure the guests would have space.

Notice the duck salt and pepper shakers

The table was set with white cloths and eclectic dinner ware

Like the name suggests, the dinner ware had the eclectic feeling of an antique store. The plates were a blend of patterns including floral and cheetah print, while the cutlery ranged in design from colorful, plastic coated handles to sturdy feeling knives and forks.

But the preparations were not complete. There were still dishes to do and meals to make, most of which would come after the guests arrived.

When the WE and SBDC arrived, Mike Armstrong, the owner, gave them a short tour of the space before dinner, while the servers for the evening, Alex and Simon, prepped waters for the party of 20.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen: Miki Hudson, the Lost and Found chef and owner of the catering business Hart’s Alley, was busy making salads, and prepping the main course for the evening.

Notice the cheetah print plate

The Strawberry Field, locally sourced ingredients and homemade bread

The meal began with salads. Some were simple – greens with a light sauce – while others where the “Strawberry field”: a base of spinach, with gorgonzola, homemade balsamic vinegar, blue cheese, strawberries, and locally sourced vegetables.

Following salads was the main course: Ratatouille, a combination of squash, eggplant, zucchini, tomato, and local herbs, nestled on a bed of chicken and curry flavored Israeli cuscus, which was then slow baked for three hours.

The chef in the background is the guy "Linguini" from the Ratatouille movie is based on... not really, but we can dream

Ratatouille with chicken and couscous

Ratatouille is a French peasant dish, and Chef Miki Hudson said she likes these slow-bake peasant foods because they follow the theme of “Lost and Found”:

“No one has time to make them anymore,” she said.

After the Ratatouille came the desserts: bread pudding in whiskey sauce, topped with fresh berries; red wine chocolate cake with whipped cream; and a berry fruit cup with whiskey sauce, crowned with whipped cream.

It may have been a little warm when we placed the whipped cream, though I find the little avalanche quite charming

Bread Pudding with whipped cream, raspberries and blueberries.

As the evening came to a close the guests expressed their satisfaction with the meal, and the restaurant staff began the clean-up.

Notice the small army... it's an trap!

Raspberry, blueberry, and blackberry fruit cup with whiskey sauce and whipped cream.

Though it’s tempting to go into detail on the process of clearing tables and washing dishes, these are things best left for another dinner that they may be, for the moment, lost, and later found by another writer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Like I said: the fruit cups are attacking!

Red wine chocolate cake with whipped cream, raspberries, and blueberries.

 

The Shame of the Male Virgin

lovwrite:

Bennet brings up an interesting idea: we are being conditioned, as both men and women, to behave and expect certain things. If possible, my fellow humans, let us work to alter our conditioning and venture forward into this “the new world order”, and establish our own standards of “genderinity”.

Originally posted on TIME:

What’s craziest about the story of the young man who killed six people and himself at UC Santa Barbara over the weekend is not that he was obsessed with sex, or even that he thought he was entitled to it. Reading his 141-page “manifesto” — and the series of YouTube videos he filmed and posted online — what was most surprising was how ordinary his complaint seemed.

Elliot Rodger had never kissed a girl. In a culture of casual sex, he was a virgin — at 22. ​He was lonely, angry, humiliated, depressed, and also likely struggling with mental illness. He couldn’t understand why others got to have what he didn’t; why girls always seemed to go after the “obnoxious jocks,” not the nice guys like him; why he had to see it all around him — from porn to campus party culture — as if taunting him…

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Patterson-Sutton Duo Perform at Laramie County Library

The Patterson/Sutton Duo performed an hour-long recital at the Laramie Country Library at 7pm on Thursday, May 29.

The Cheyenne Guitar Society partnered with the Library to present the duo:

Kimberly Patterson, cellist, who earned her Master of Music Degree from Julliard School and her Doctorate of Musical Arts from Boulder, Colo. and Patrick Sutton, Guitarist, who earned both his Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in classical guitar performance at the Lamont School of Music.

Informal attendance counts estimated a crowd of 175 came to listen to the duo perform in the Cottonwood Room on the ground floor of the library.

The Duo’s first selection was 3 Nocturnes for Guitar and Cello by Frédéric Burgmüller (1806 – 1874), a romantic era composer.

Sutton opened the piece, playing a light ascent then descent in a triple meter. Then Patterson entered with a lilting melody reminiscent of lullabies or, perhaps, the homesick sighs of a traveler.

Following the final Nocturne, the duo performed Park of Idols (2005) by Stephen Goss (b. 1964). In a thesis she wrote in 2012 for the University of Colorado, Patterson says that,

Park of Idols is a kaleidoscopic pastiche that takes the cello and guitar through myriad styles of avant-garde rock, classical music, and jazz, creating a work that is sonically unpredictable, yet always pleasing.”

The duo will present a lecture on Park of Idols for the Guitar Foundation of America Convention on June 24, 2014 in Fullerton, Calif.

The lines in the background gave me problems.

Patrick Sutton and Kimberly Patterson pose after their performance Thursday, May 29.

Park of Idols was followed by two movements from Quatre Pieces Intimes (1997) by Dušan Bogdanović (b. 1955), and by Reflexões No.6 (1986) by Brazilian composer Jaime Mirtenbaum Zenamon (b. 1953).

Quatre Pieces Intimes starts with a slow, pensive movement called Priere which opens with sustained cello tones under which the guitar plays rain-like droplets of notes.

The second movement, Mouvement, opens with a syncopated structure in the guitar which the cello mimics; creating an effect not unlike a rabbit hunt.

Reflexões No.6 is a three movement work. The name, said Patterson, means “reflections” in Portugese, and though she knew the meaning, she said the pronunciation was still coming along.

The first movement of Reflexões No.6 is called Fluido. The guitar in this movement plays rapidly beneath a legato cello line.

The second movement, Doloroso, maintains the fluidity of the first in the wafting cello line, but here the guitar plays fewer runs and replaces them with periodic glissandos.

The final movement, Vivissimo, is a piece written in distinct triple meters and is full of life and vitality.

The duo performed with skill and ease, and brought to their selections a character and quality which enthralling their audience.

Often, between especially pensive movements, the audience paused before applauding as though they were slowly emerging from the music.

The final Vivissimo, however, brought the audience to their feet while the duo took a bow and left the stage.

Their exit was brief, however, and they returned a short while later to perform their encore piece: Bachianas Brasileira No.5 (1947) by Villa Lobos (1887-1959).

“This one I can pronounce!” Patterson said as she introduced the piece, saying that the piece is very beautiful and rather haunting.

The original piece was written for solo soprano and eight cellos.

After the final bow, the duo lingered another hour to speak with those who attended before calling it a night and heading home.


Links:

http://www.celloandguitar.com

Patterson, Kimberly. (2012) An Overview of Stephen Goss’s, Park of Idols. Thesis, University of Colorado. Retrieved from: http://www.stephengoss.net/images/publications/pdfs/Patterson%20Lecture%20Final.pdf

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