Today's mail brought my contributor's copy of Not One of Us #59. The issue is themed around music, fire, and ghosts; it contains especially recommendable work by Craig Rodgers, Alexandra Seidel, Tim Jeffreys, F. Brett Cox, Stephanie M. Wytovich, and Davian Aw, as well as my poems "The Great Fire" and "The Women Around Achilles." The latter was written as a gloss on the story of Achilles on Skyros, a piece of post-Homeric midrash whose gender essentialism has always sat badly with me; the former is a very recent take on chronic illness and politics. There is a ridiculous typo in one of them which is entirely my fault.
1. Last night I attended the premiere of Michael Veloso's Trinity (2018) at Lexington High School. I desperately want a recording. I have very high standards for atomic art and this piece easily exceeds them; I know less about twenty-first-century classical music than I should, but anything where I can hear neutrons clicking and cascading and the furnace churn at a fireball's heart is a success by me. It was not quite as weird to revisit my old high school auditorium as I had been worrying.
2. I woke this morning hearing the last stanza of Kipling's "The Widow's Party"—Bellamy's setting that uses the tune of "Dol-Li-A." All I can remember of my dreams is that I was singing it; I don't know when or for whom. It's been in my head all day, especially when I walked to the library and back to pick up a research book. We broke a King and we built a road—
3. I appreciate![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
handful_ofdust tagging me Leslie Howard in one of the cuter moments of Berkeley Square (1933). I also appreciate her commentary on this photograph of Ida Lupino, Roscoe Karns, and Toby Wing. Whatever they just suggested, he'd be an idiot to refuse.
4. I don't understand what kind of person could read the headline "Green-haired turtle that breathes through its genitals added to endangered list" and not want to save it on the spot.
5. I am never not going to be happy that my fifth-grade teachers taught us about probability by teaching us to play craps so that we learned (a) about probability (b) the house always wins.
1. Last night I attended the premiere of Michael Veloso's Trinity (2018) at Lexington High School. I desperately want a recording. I have very high standards for atomic art and this piece easily exceeds them; I know less about twenty-first-century classical music than I should, but anything where I can hear neutrons clicking and cascading and the furnace churn at a fireball's heart is a success by me. It was not quite as weird to revisit my old high school auditorium as I had been worrying.
2. I woke this morning hearing the last stanza of Kipling's "The Widow's Party"—Bellamy's setting that uses the tune of "Dol-Li-A." All I can remember of my dreams is that I was singing it; I don't know when or for whom. It's been in my head all day, especially when I walked to the library and back to pick up a research book. We broke a King and we built a road—
3. I appreciate
handful_ofdust tagging me Leslie Howard in one of the cuter moments of Berkeley Square (1933). I also appreciate her commentary on this photograph of Ida Lupino, Roscoe Karns, and Toby Wing. Whatever they just suggested, he'd be an idiot to refuse.4. I don't understand what kind of person could read the headline "Green-haired turtle that breathes through its genitals added to endangered list" and not want to save it on the spot.
5. I am never not going to be happy that my fifth-grade teachers taught us about probability by teaching us to play craps so that we learned (a) about probability (b) the house always wins.
