Thursday, February 25, 2016

My Boy

The teacher said, "paint a pop-art picture of a face."  I picked one I love - I hope he'll forgive me. 


Wednesday, February 17, 2016


This weeks project was a jellyfish.  I found the process of creating the illusion of transparency particularly challenging.

Sunday, February 07, 2016

The Princess Bride

I finally read the Princess Bride by WIlliam Goldman.  I have been a fan of the movie for years.  We watch it at camp, and use scenes from it for Camp Flag Ceremony skits.  I enjoyed the book - but I must say that it joins The Scarlet Pimpernel, which we also use for skits at Loll, as a book that is NOT as good as its movie version. Goldman constantly tries to inject his own life and opinions into the story, but he is no Henry Fielding, in fact he is no L. Frank Baum.  I got tired of trying to guess if he is lieing or not.  In spite of all that there were some fun quotes:
The Princess Bride
1. Farm Boy: Now the farm boy was staring back at the Countess.  He was feeding the cows and his muscles were rippling the way they always did under his tanned skin and Buttercup was standing there watching as the farm boy looked, for the first time, deep into the Countess’s eyes.  p. 57

2. Growing Love: “I love you,” Buttercup said.  “I know this must come as something of a surprise, since all I’ve ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more.  I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then.  But then minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm.  p. 58

3. On Moby Dick:  Me again.  Of all the cuts in this version, I feel most justified in making this one.  Just as the chapters on whaling in Moby-Dick can be omitted by all but the most punishment-loving readers . . . pp. 83-84

4. On God Killing:  “I don’t like killing a girl,” the Spaniard said.  “God does it all the time; if it doesn’t bother Him, don’t let it worry you.” [said Vizzni] p. 103

5. Homeric:  I only wish we could stay for his grief—it should be Homeric.”  p. 104

6. Physical Strength not Mental Ability:  When it came to power, nothing worried him [Fezzik].  When it came to reading, he got knots in his middle of his stomach, and when it came to writing, he broke out in a cold sweat, and when addition was mentioned or, worse, long division, he always changed the subject right away.  p. 112

7. Mind of Vizzini:  From the beginning, when as a child he realized his bumped body would never conquer worlds, he relied on his mind.  He trained it, fought it, brought it to heel. p. 113

8. On the Meaning of Inconceivable:  “He’ll never catch up!” the Sicilian cried.  “Inconceivable!”  “You keep using that word!”  the Spaniard snapped, “I don’t think it means what you think it does.”  p. 114

9. On Climbing:  The man in black was, indeed, rising.  Somehow, in some almost miraculou8s way, his fingers were finding holds in the crevices, and he was now perhaps fifteen feet closer to the top, farther from death.  p. 118

10. On a Father’s Love and Love:  He [Inigo] was fantastically happy.  Because of his father.  Domingo Montoya was funny-looking and crotchety and impatient and absent-minded and never smiled.  Inigo loved him.  Totally.  Don’t ask why.  There really wasn’t any one reason you could put your finger on.  Oh, probably Domingo loved him back, but love is many things, none of them logical. p. 120

11. Friends Argue:  He [Inigo] knew they [Domingo and Yeste] had been brought up together, had known each other sixty years, had never not loved one another deeply, and it thrilled him when he could hear them arguing.  That was the strange thing: arguing was all they ever did.  p. 122

12. Craftsman-v-Artist: “No. Not yet.  A craftsman only.  But I dream to be an artist.  I pray that someday, if I work with enough care, if I am very very lucky, I will make a weapon that is a work of art.  Call me an artist then, and I will answer.”  p. 125

13. Domingo Becomes an Artist: Such a year.  One night Inigo woke to find his father seated.  Staring.  Calm.  Inigo followed the stare.  The six-fingered sword was done.  Even in the hut’s darkness, it glistened.  “At last,” Domingo whispered.  He could not take his eyes from the glory of the sword.  “After a lifetime.  Inigo.  Inigo.  I am an artist.”  p. 130

14. Capitalism:  From all across the world they came,  begging him for weapons, so he doubled his prices because he didn’t want to work too hard anymore he was getting old, but when he doubled his prices, when the news spread from duke to prince to king, they only wanted him the more desperately.  Now the wait was two years for a sword and the line-up of royalty was unending and Yeste was growing tired, so he doubled his prices again, and when that didn’t stop them, he decided to triple his already doubled and redoubled prices and besides that, all work had to be paid for in jewels in advance and the wait was up to three years, but nothing would stop them.  They had to have swords by Yeste or nothing, and even though the work on the finest was nowhere what it once was (Domingo, after all, no longer could save him) the silly rich men didn’t notice.  All they wanted was his weapons and they fell over each other with jewels for him.”  pp. 134-135

15. Inigo’s challenge: “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die,” and then, oh then, the duel. p. 139

16. Science and Relativist Explanations: “That explains it.”  Actually, of course, it didn’t explain anything, but whenever doctors are confused about something, which is really more frequently than any of us would do well to think about, they always snatch at something in the vicinity of the case and add, “That explains it.”  If Fezzid’s mother had to come late, they would have said, “Well, you came late, that explains it.”  Or “Well, it was raining during delivery, this added weight is simply moisture, that explains it.”  p. 156

17. How to Make a Fist (As my father told me): “Honey,” Fezzik’s father said, “look: when you make a fist, you don’t put your thumb inside your fingers, you keep your thumb outside your fingers, because if you keep your thumb inside your fingers and you hit somebody, what will happen is you’ll break your thumb and that isn’t good, because the whole objet when you hit somebody is to hurt the other guy not yourself.”  p. 158

18. Fighting One or a Group: Suddenly he [Fezzik] knew.  He had not fought against one man if so long he had all but forgotten how.  He had been fighting groups and gangs and bunches for so many years that the idea of having but a single opponent was slow in making itself know to him.  Because you fought them entirely differently.  p. 170

19. Donald Trump – 2016: “I have already learned everything from you,” said the Sicilian.  “I know were the poison is.”  “Only a genius could have deduced as much.”  “How fortunate for me that I happen to be one,” said the hunch back, growing more and more amused now.  p. 178

20. Classic Blunders:  “Fool!” cried the hunch back.  “You fell victim to one of the classic blunders.  The most famous is ‘Never get involved in a land war in Asia,’ but only slightly less well know is this” ‘Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.’”  p. 179

21. Life Is Not Fair:  And that’s when she [Edith – Goldman’s wife] put her book down.  And looked at me. And said it: ‘Life isn’t fair, Bill.  We tell our children that it is, but it’s a terrible thing to do.  It’s not only a lie, it’s a cruel lie.  Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it’s never going to be.’ p. 237

22. True Love – Best Thing – Except . . .: “Sonny, don’t you tell me what’s worthwhile—true love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops.  Everybody knows that.”  p. 315

23. Goldman on Baum: Well, it’s my conviction that this is the same kind of thing as the Wizard of Ox sending Dorothy’s friend to the wicked witch’s castle; it’s got the same ‘feel,’ if you know what I mean, and I didn’t want to risk, when the books building to climax, the reader’s saying, ‘Oh, this is just like the Oz books.’  Here’s the kicker, though: Morgenstern’s Florinese version came before Baum wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, so in spite of the fact that he was the originator, he comes out just the other way around.  pp. 319-320

Friday, February 05, 2016

Autumn Treasure

When we go back to Loll in September to "pump" and lock down, we find the beauty of the Fall filling the forest.  The ash trees are orange, the snowberrys gold, and the Huckleberrys are fire red. There are some treasures of summer still hanging on: memories and big blue berries.  The Huckleberry is the only fruit in heaven - where all things must be perfect.