This page renders best in Firefox (or Safari, or Chrome)
READIN
READIN started out as a place for me
to keep track of what I am reading, and to learn (slowly, slowly)
how to design a web site.
There has been some mission drift
here and there, but in general that's still what it is. Some of
the main things I write about here are
reading books,
listening to (and playing) music, and
watching the movies. Also I write about the
work I do with my hands and with my head; and of course about bringing up Sylvia.
The site is a bit of a work in progress. New features will come on-line now and then; and you will occasionally get error messages in place of the blog, for the forseeable future. Cut me some slack, I'm just doing it for fun! And if you see an error message you think I should know about, please drop me a line. READIN source code is PHP and CSS, and available on request, in case you want to see how it works.
See my reading list for what I'm interested in this year.
READIN has been visited approximately 236,737 times since October, 2007.
So I've decided to post working versions of songs I am learning and/or writing here. It will give me a point of reference, which is a handy thing to have. So far I have been recording with Windows Sound Recorder and my laptop's microphone. Ideally I would have a good microphone and a more usable piece of software -- I don't really know what software there is, but will look into it. Short of buying a microphone, Mike suggested that I could plug in my violin's pick-up into the computer -- all I need for this is a ¼"-to-⅛" jack converter.
posted morning of December 8th, 2007: Respond ➳ More posts about Songs
So here's how I came up with the new color scheme for this site, of which I am kind of proud -- I think it looks really pleasant, and might even potentially cause someone to remember the site who would otherwise not.
To start with, the blog had no colors specified, so it used the client's Windows (or whatever operating system) colors. Usually this means black text on white background. Now I have my Windows colors set to a little different, so the background is a very light shade of gray and the text is a dark violet color -- I find it easier to read that way. I was reluctant though to specify colors because I did on the old READIN web site and came to regret having done it.
But, well, I think this combination is good enough to use. Light yellow color for the background, deep violet text in the main portion of the window. Here, links are purple and bold if unvisited, dark gray and normal-weight if visited. If the mouse is over them, they are the horrible iridescent color unknown to man which is represented by #009900. (This is true for all links in the document.)
In the sidebars, a lighter color background* and charcoal text, with the links a brighter sort of aquamarine color if unvisited and teal if visited. The links on the right-hand side (which is practically nothing but links) are not bold but the color should be light enough to draw attention to them -- the text around them is sparse. The links on the left-hand sidebar are the only ones that do not change appearance when visited, because they are small and easy to miss.
(Note: Firefox renders this site better than Explorer. I am not sure why and I don't think it matters much because I think most of the visits to this site are with Firefox or such like. But MSIE does funky things with the borders and the positions of table elements.)
*The two are actually slightly different light colors, the one on the right a little blue or green, the one on the left a little orange or brown. I'm not sure why or what is the use of this.
posted evening of December 7th, 2007: Respond ➳ More posts about The site
This was fun. As always I find myself in need of a rhythm instrument behind me. If I were playing with a pianist and a singer or something, that could be a moderately long song with lots of verses and choruses. (And with fewer missed notes and beats.)
Update ...and in this tune, I go on without benefit of rhythm for a number of verses:
posted evening of December 7th, 2007: 4 responses ➳ More posts about Fiddling
Nice gift from Ellen: Raising Sand by Alison Krauss and Robert Plant. Just what I wanted! (as recommended by Jim Henley.)
First listen this morning, in my car driving to work. Well, the bass is a little too much for my car stereo. Going to have to spin it at home this evening (buncha people coming over for Hannukah). But I can say, the track Jim recommended, "Killing the Blues", is way better than I thought it was the first time I heard it. Also that the cover of "Gone Gone Gone" (by the Everly Bros.) is fantastic, and probably my favorite thing so far. But really need to listen on better speakers to find out what's going on with that bass. (I'm a little puzzled -- I've listened to other bassy stuff on the car stereo with no problems.)
Update: listened to it again at home and I must say, a really sweet record. The vocal harmonies are beautiful. And by a cool coincidence, I find out that just today "Gone Gone Gone" was nominated for a Grammy award. (As of right now I think my favorite track on the record is "Fortune Teller".) But the bass is really aggressive, it distorts a little bit on my home speakers, which are good enough for playing anything else I've ever thrown at them. I wonder if this indicates a problem with the production of the record -- it seems like a strange one, that would be easy enough to catch and fix. Or maybe my equipment is just not good enough.
posted morning of December 6th, 2007: Respond ➳ More posts about Raising Sand
What do you think? More readable or less? Pretty or ugly? Let me know. (Elements of the new look: colors and borders, varying font sizes and styles, dingbats. Everything sort of gradually being moved over from element attributes to style sheets.) Feedback please.
If you're around Maplewood next Friday, the 14th, and would like to hear me playing guitar and fiddle behind Hannah Reimann, come to the bar formerly known as Here's to the Arts at 97 Baker St. (That's still the name painted in the window, but they have taken their sign down and I think there is a name change in the works) at 8 pm. I'm so excited! An actual gig!
posted evening of December 4th, 2007: Respond ➳ More posts about Music
The Millions is publishing a series of posts by various notables recommending books they have enjoyed this year, under the heading 2007: A Year in Reading. Go check it out, lots of interesting stuff. (hat tip to LanguageHat, whose post is the first in the series.)
For my own part, my recommendation for 2007 is Pamuk -- I first delved into Snow in July and his books have been very much on my mind ever since. He captures, with as much clarity as I have ever seen, the world I live in -- though his novels are set in locations geographically, culturally, and temporally removed from my own.
Heartfelt thanks to Dr. Snarkout, for introducing me to Pamuk's work.
My brother asks in e-mail, "Really, did you actually love 'Aguirre, etc.' or did you just understand that it's a Great Film?" by way of saying that he understood it to be Great Film but did not find anything to enjoy in the film itself. This is interesting to me because (a) I did actually, authentically enjoy this film and (b) I worry, when I am liking something that I know is Great, about whether my enjoyment is real.
When we notice [our surroundings while reading], we are at the same time savoring our solitude and the workings of our imagination and congratulating ourselves on possessing greater depth than those who do not read. I understand how a reader might, without going too far, wish to congratulate himself, though I have little patience for those who take pride in boasting.
So that is the worry when I tell myself I loved Aguirre, the Wrath of God or My Name Is Red or whatever -- how do I distinguish between the externally-directed pleasure of fancying myself a connoisseur of fine film or literature, and the internal, actual pleasure of understanding and appreciating the work in question? I have an unexamined prejudice that the former pleasure is in bad faith, is boastful and something to be ashamed of.
Herzog's (and Kinski's) genius is certainly front and center in Aguirre -- it seems to me like it would be difficult to watch the movie without having the thought that it is the work of a genius, that it is Great Film. But, I'm not quite sure how to put this, the movie itself is so powerful and moving, the second-hand attributes of the movie are not primary in my mind while I'm watching it.
