Wednesday, March 21, 2007

big in japan

Focusing on Texas the work of the jazz torio which continues the activity of 15 year or more. In any case, you adhered to the simple form of the piano torio and pulled out, it is acoustic jazz sound of the metal reinforcement entering.

As for strange of inter-play only speaking as expected, the breath 3 exact. When rising, strange power is the extent where the gooseflesh stands.

Simple this much you can see from the form which does not become extreme the development which has depth, with, again the piano torio it is splendid, you were impressed.

This glowing review appears on the site of a Japanese Jazz CD retailer. The limitations of the babelfish translator notwithstanding, I was flattered by the attention, and pleased to find a nice large wad of cash dumped in my account in the hopes that I would send fifty CDs to Osaka. When I filled the order I also found out that we got a nice review in Japan's leading jazz magazine. We're apparently bigger there than we are here.

You were impressed.

Monday, March 19, 2007


Robert Browning knows why he's an artist.

We're made so that we love
First when we see them painted, things we have passed
Perhaps a hundred times - nor cared to see,
And so they are better, painted - better to us,
Which is the same thing. Art was given for that,
God uses us to help each other so,
Lending our minds out.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007


I cannot live like this.

You smiled at me, in the restaurant today — a chance meeting — and we said a warm Hi. I treasure your daughters. I can picture them being Catherine in fifteen years. Your wife is someone Catherine can see herself being in fifteen years. I like you. I know you like me.

But I sat there and wondered from my table. Are you one of the ones? Probably not. Maybe so. Very likely not. Or I would have heard. But I didn't, so maybe so. But I didn't, so maybe not. But maybe so. What do I see in that smile? A hint of ...? Do I detect a message in the kind greeting? Who will I become, as I parse kind greetings for messages? I can't imagine that you would withhold your feelings and reactions from me and take them elsewhere. But I can't imagine who would, either, and yet they did. Do any of them, or their enablers, see what they've done? See what beautiful fabric they've ripped? Is this my fate? Every Howarya, every G'mornin, every smile a possible symbol of brotherhood broken?

May I take a moment to stand in the rain and cry?

Wednesday, March 7, 2007


Now that I have some free time, I can get back to doing the tons of reading that my hectic schedule sometimes got in the way of. I'll probably start with dear Browning. Maybe Rabbi Ben Ezra, with its ringing "welcome each rebuff that turns earth's smoothness rough." I might be more in the mood, though, for some of his lighter, more popular fare. Some of the children's poetry, perhaps.

Then on to something more meaty. After nearly two decades it might be time for me to reread Atlas Shrugged — this time I'll feel free to skip over the yammering speeches.

Friday, March 2, 2007


I wear shoes. I'm one of those people who do not walk into a friend's den and kick off their shoes. Decades ago, I would have said I'm not one of those people who walk into a friend's den and kick off their shoes. Therein lies a huge cultural shift.

I do walk around the house barefoot sometimes. I was just thinking of Gerard Manley Hopkins's complaint about the modern world and how we are so distant from all living things: "nor can foot feel, being shod."

It took me a while to realize that Hopkins was precisely, diametrically wrong on that issue. The fact is that we whose feet are shod can feel more than our forefathers ever imagined. If you were to visit backwoods New Guinea, Weyak and his people would be amazed at your tender, soft feet. They're horribly unfit when you're trying to hunt barefoot. But they're exquisitely sensitive, being able to feel every blade of grass, something Weyak's blistered, calloused feet could never do.

So. Stick that in your foil and shake it, Gerard.

Thursday, March 1, 2007


I saw and played with my first Mac in 1984. I loved getting into MacDraw and coming up with new fonts, even though I didn't know how to actually make them into workable fonts. I just loved designing new typefaces. One of the first things I wished about cool fonts was that they could resemble hand lettering: I'd been trained as a calligrapher (yep, I was trained as a calligrapher) to be able to spot hand-done stuff as opposed to printed stuff. One of the things you look for is variation in letters.

Fast-forward to 2007: I was messing around with a sticky-note, and tried changing the font to Zapfino. In BBEdit, the font is static: a letter is a letter is a letter. But in Stickies, the font becomes dynamic. When you type the next letter, the previous letter may change to accommodate it. There are hundreds of ligatures in this font, activated by your typing. At last! We finally have the bandwidth to do this. Now all I have to do is design a font based on my handwriting, with several instances of each letter, triggered either randomly or by combination. Maybe I'll do that in my spare time.