Asakiyume mita

On Saturday, Steven Brewer, author of the Revin's Heart series of steampunk novellas that I've enjoyed, had a tent set up at the farmers market the next town over, to sell the novellas and also some of his writing in Esperanto.

I went to see him and took a 10-second video. (Warning, those Youtube shorts play on repeat--click away, click away, or else you will be stuck in a time loop!) Afterward, while we were talking, a haggard man, older than either of us (I reckon, but who can be sure?) came by and surveyed Steven's wares.

"Would you like to read a pirate airship adventure story?" asked Steven.

"I only read one person," the man said in a hoarse voice. "And that's Scott Ritter." And then he stalked off.

Steven and I exchanged glances. Well then!

"I usually try to entice people with 'Would you like to be an airship pirate,' and most people respond positively," he said. "There was one little kid, though, who told me, 'I only like Sonic. I'm wearing his shoes!'" Steven takes it all in stride.

Elsewhere in the farmers market I saw a kid with a Sonic T-shirt on and wondered if that was the same kid. I didn't get a glimpse of his shoes, though.

Revin's Heart at the publisher's website

Today Matt, of Where the Hell [now toned down to Heck] Is Matt fame (videos here and here), came to dance in South Amherst.

I was one of the first people to arrive, but gradually more and more people came, until we had a small crowd. There was a woman whose name was Forest--not Forest Something, or Something Forest, just Forest. She's a dancer. There was a young meteorologist, and an acquaintance of mine who does shape-note singing, and a pastor who is going to let me go up into her belfry to take pictures of her bell and who has a little daughter. There was a woman with her two grandchildren. So many people, happy to dance!

He came with just a smartphone to film with! And asked for a stepladder and a chair, and people found those things--and then for someone willing to film, and guess who was willing: wakanomori!

Here he is consulting with Matt (forgive the crummy photo; I didn't bring my camera (crazy), so this is taken with my cell phone)



Here are two pictures of the crowd that wakanomori took from his vantage point on the ladder (you can click through to see bigger) (Also, the pastor's church is over on the right as you look at the picture):





Here's the front row, where the kids were (my cell phone picture again):



After it was over, one guy called out, "You've been all over the world--what's one thing you've learned?" Matt thought about it a minute and said, "That people want to be helpful."

It's true--you could see it in action right there. A sunshiny thought.

Matt collects way more video footage than he uses in his final video, and what he got today may not make it in--but it'll be up on his website, eventually. When it is, I'll link.

Last of all, a posed shot together :-)



[Edit, from 2018. I'm going through carefully putting photos that were only available on Livejournal into my Dreamwidth photo storage, so that when I cease to pay for an LJ account, the photos will continue to be visible. As I do, I'm revisiting the past from the future. In this case, I know now, which I didn't then, that this Matt video would be lackluster compared to the early ones; that you can't go to places based on popular demand and have as interesting and diverse a video, and that the enthusiasm of the earlier years can't be maintained for ever and ever. Matt deserves to--and ought to--move on to a new project. Hopefully now he is/has.]

Traveling Salesmen

Have you ever had a traveling salesman (or woman) come to your abode? What is the strangest thing a traveling salesperson has ever tried to sell you? Did you buy it?

I can recall one time, a traveling encyclopedia salesman came to my abode. I didn't by any encyclopedias. Another time--this one I tell people a lot--when we lived in Japan, a traveling miso salesman came by. I bought a giant thing of miso.

Young Flash Mob

Last week we went to have some coffee at the ice cream store (which, if you think about it, is kind of funny). All of a sudden, a classroom's worth of kids materialized in front of the counter, ordering ice cream--and then just as suddenly, they vanished.



...And then they reappeared! And this time they had music, and they did a dance! It was great.

A most remarkable art installation was going up on the grounds of the Emily Dickinson House in Amherst, Massachusetts: poetry houses: whitewashed reliquaries, inscribed with phrases from Emily Dickinson's poems.

I first caught sight of them from across the street:



Intrigued, I crossed over, and they were everywhere:





Further on, in a small park where a silhouette of Emily Dickinson talks to a silhouette of Robert Frost, three men were hard at work putting up another one.

( three photos under here )

That one says "Beauty is not caused. It is. It IS"

From those three, I found out that the installation was the brainchild of a student at Deerfield Academy, a prep school in the area. I was impressed with his vision, and with how beautiful the execution was, and at the same time, hearing the name of a prep school, and looking at the materials and labor required to make the exhibition happen, I got to thinking about the financing of art. Did a grant make this possible? A wealthy patron or patrons? Did the student ask for donations of supplies from local businesses? I expect one day soon there will be an article in the local papers, and my questions will be answered.

Edited to add: This article on the Deerfield Academy website talks about the project. The creator is Peter Krasznekewicz, a junior.

Another addition: Link to the artist's website: Art Action. On the site are more photos of the houses in situ all over the town of Amherst--so it's more far reaching than I realized!