Creating, collecting, and sharing thoughts and ideas. And learning along the way.
Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.
~ Albert Einstein
Note: Six years ago on this day I found a terrific huge wall-poster of Albert Einstein with this quote emblazoned on it; had it framed; and presented it to the one I love.
So, you might love them or you might hate them. Public art installations, that is. They’re typically scattered around the grounds of large buildings and campuses such as Universities. And depending on your point of view, they might serve any number of purposes: everything from recognizing the work of the artist, to celebrating an event such as an anniversary (centennials are quite common), or nothing at all if you’re not a fan of outdoor art installations!
Pieces of public art might be sculptures of the people who represent something; others might be abstract so as to allow you to conjure up your own images of what the piece might represent about the person, place or thing. Regardless of the type, pieces of public art remain constant– the’re fixed installations that aren’t going anywhere come hail or snow or shine.
And then there are other types of public art that serve to communicate an idea but only for a short while. The message might change every month or even every week. Take this big rock, for example. Situated right in the middle of campus, it bears the logo or message of some student organization or cause, and this may not be the same one that you’d find tomorrow.
There’s something to be said for both the beauty and utility of these two pieces of public art. They might represent two completely different causes, but unlike the changing landscape around them through the four seasons, they remain in their place even as everything else continues to change and morph, and perhaps even eventually disappear from sight. The seasons change; the people come and go; but these public art objects remain standing in place. Boldly making a statement or conveying an idea for the ages to come.
The show must indeed go on!
Volvo’s been pimping the S60 as the “Naughty Volvo” in an effort to shed its reputation for safe, reliable but unexciting cars. The jury’s out on whether it’s working, even if the S60 is a sweet ride, but the guys at K-PAX Racing don’t need convincing. They’re taking an S60 to the track.
The team, which started racing in 2007 and won the World Challenge GT manufacturers’ and drivers’ championship last year, will defend its title with a pair of S60s. They’ll introduce them at Miller Motorsports Park in Utah during the fourth race of the season. Until then, we’ve got but a single rendering to whet our appetite.
“For the first three races, we’ll run the body style that took us to last year’s championships,” team owner Jim Haughey said. “Once fans see the new cars, I think they’ll be very impressed.”
No word on what’s under the racer’s bodywork, but the S60 leaves the factory with all-wheel-drive and a 300-horsepower 3.0-liter V6.
In case you didn’t know this little tip about making the perfect fried eggs, the word from thekitchn.com is:
Our usual method for cooking fried eggs involves cracking them in a pan and letting them sizzle. If the whites are taking too long to set, we’ll cover the pan with a lid to encourage even cooking.
Our friend takes things one step further. Before putting the lid over the pan, she’ll pour a little water into the pan. Just a tablespoon or two. The water steams the top of the egg to perfection in no time.
She does admit that the bottoms don’t get as crispy as they would otherwise, but we think this is a small sacrifice for set whites and runny yolks.
Quite a comprehensive wrap-up from Salon.com of the performances that made you look up from your embroidery.
I loved Bob Dylan and the Avett Bros., btw. And Ceelo and Gwyneth rocked!
Rumsfeld’s Romanticism
In 2003, we presented the first anthology of Donald Rumsfeld’s poetry, including the verse that’s become his most famous:
The Unknown
As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don’t know
We don’t know.– Feb. 12, 2002, Department of Defense news briefing
It’s “known unknowns” that really holds the poem together, and Rumsfeld was smart to evoke the phrase in the title of his new memoir, Known and Unknown. But Andrew Kau, a graduate student in the Yale English department, wrote to remind us that John Keats got to the concatenation first.
In the second book of the English poet’s 1818 romance Endymion—which begins with the iconic line, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever”—Cupid addresses his beloved, Psyche, with the same paradoxical phrase Rumsfeld employs:
O known Unknown! from whom my being sips
Such darling essence, wherefore may I not
Be ever in these arms? in this sweet spot
Pillow my chin for ever? ever press
These toying hands and kiss their smooth excess?
Why not for ever and for ever feel
That breath about my eyes? Ah, thou wilt steal
Away from me again, indeed, indeed—
Thou wilt be gone away, and wilt not heed
My lonely madness. Speak, my kindest fair!The Cupid-Psyche interlude is embedded within the larger narrative of the shepherd Endymion’s quest to find a mysterious, beautiful woman, a mission Kau sees as a reflection of Rumsfeld’s own career:
It is not that much of a leap to see the “liberation” of Iraq, in neo-conservative ideology, as a version of a heroic quest. Rumsfeld’s term, “known unknown,” suggests both the ultimate resolution of the quest (we will eventually turn the known unknown into a known known), while holding out the possibility of an indefinite deferral of this resolution (just as the genre of romance, and Endymion itself, can tediously spin out its narrative through countless adventures). Though surely inadvertent, Rumsfeld’s quotation of Keats jibes with the general strategy of the Bush Administration to balance our expectations of closure and open-endedness.
“Known unknown” is also a beautifully succinct way of describing the inherent tension of romance: the notion that, no matter how intimate you may be with your beloved, something at that person’s core will always remain ineffable, separate, mysterious. Between that and the fuzzy Patagonia fleece he’s sporting on the cover of his book, it’s almost enough to make us want to fold Rumsfeld up into a Valentine’s Day hug.
Gotta love anybody who holds Keats as dear to their heart as I do!
I had first encountered Moliere in Sophomore Lit. in college. Translated from the French, the plays are short brilliant pieces. Last night, I had the pleasure of going to a Moliere play: The Misanthrope. Some tokens of the event:
The Wiki entry on the play is as follows:
The Misanthrope (French: Le Misanthrope ou l’Atrabilaire amoureux) is a 17th-century comedy of manners in verse written by Moliere. It was first performed on 4 June 1666 at the Theatre du Palais-Royal, Paris by the King’s Players.
The play satirizes the hypocrisies of French aristocratic society, but it also engages a more serious tone when pointing out the flaws which all humans possess. The play differs from other farces at the time by employing dynamic characters like Alceste and Célimène as opposed to the traditionally flat characters used by most satirists to criticize problems in society. It also differs from most of Molière’s other works by focusing more on character development and nuances than on plot progression. The play, though not a commercial success in its time, survives as Molière’s best known work today.
So, where would you want to go for the finest pizzas and pastas and canolis and tiramisu in town? Well, if you’re in Ann Arbor, the choice would be clear: Cottage Inn. The one downtown on Williams, that is. We paid a visit today, and got some of all of the above. Check it out:
