Friday, August 31, 2007

Show Opening

The Hudson River Gallery will host an open house for viewing new paintings by Steven Erickson, on Friday Sept. 7, from 6 - 8 pm. Come see some great art and meet some great people.

The Hudson River Gallery is located at 538 S. Gilbert street, on the second floor of The Mansion - the large, imposing brick structure on the NE corner of Gilbert and Bowery streets. To reach the gallery, enter the front door of the mansion and proceed up the curved staircase.

Unfortunately, Gilbert street is under construction. This means reaching the mansion is currently slightly intimidating. In spite of appearances, one can turn into the parking lot from Gilbert street, but entrance to the back via Bowery is blocked. Also, parking is limited. Regrettably, there is not a bike rack at the mansion. By the back door of the building, however, there is a nice tree to which I lock my bike every day, as well as a porch rail and a few street signs. Also, the apartment complex directly across from the mansion's back door has a bike rack that's almost always empty.

Anyway, if you want more details, send me a message: robinovitz at gmail.

En Garde

Well, it looks like I'm going to start fencing again. It turns out there is a very active team here on campus, and they seemed enthusiastic to include me when I contacted them. It's odd though. It's been a very, very long time since I was deeply involved with the sport, and even longer since I did any tournament fencing (they want me to compete in two weeks). Furthermore, I can't help but feel that the 18 year old girl who wandered into a gym in Flagstaff seven years ago and thought, "Hey, this looks fun," is only sort of remotely connected to me, now. I did love many things about it -- fencing for hours on end until my arms were shaking and I couldn't lift my points off the ground, waking up the next day with that lop-sided sore feeling, or that random doctor who gave me a random physical before I went to England and asked, "Wow, what shoulders. Are you a swimmer?" My helpful reply, "No, I'm a fencer," and then, "Oh, that explains why the right side is so much bigger."

There are other things about that time of my life I don't miss, however, and have very thoroughly and deliberately left behind. Hopefully, taking it up again in an altogether different situation and place will me allow me to start now on a newly turned leaf, clean slate, fresh page, etc.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Student

I believe I've discovered the perfect way to go to school. Taking one graduate level class and existing entirely free from all other academic obligations while leading an otherwise moderate and flexible lifestyle is really pretty great. Tuesday's class was the first time ever a professor mentioned elective supplementary reading and I didn't laugh uproariously on the inside.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

At Last

Yesterday I had a few things to do downtown. I'd gone to work and back in the morning, but had taken my car (Moday = recycling day). So, as I hopped on my bike for the first time for the day and rolled down our lovely street, I realized it was absolutely beautiful out. Absolutely. Beautiful. I drifted through town, parked my bike at the library, dropped off some books and proceeded from there on foot.

This isn't something I do often. Given a choice between pedals and feet, I will take pedals 99% of the time. But it was so particularly nice out, it felt lovely to just stroll alone among milling people, some of whom I've never met but recognize. While strolling, I decided to do something I've been meaning to do for a while and check out the White Rabbit consignment shop. I popped in, poked around, had a nice chat there with the girl who owns the place, and then proceeded to Prairie Lights. Outside the bookstore I noticed a bike on a rack that belongs to someone I know, and inside I moved unerringly through crowds of confused new students to the exact two books I needed, grabbed them and was out again in a trice. From there I went to a bench and sat, enjoying the breeze and the people, and began to read a book for class. I was interrupted some little time later by a rather racy conversation a guy was having on his cell phone. When I looked up and saw who was speaking, I realized I've met him.

All these combined factors suddenly coalesced and I abruptly discovered that Iowa City is starting to feel like home. I know how most parts of it connect to other parts. I know downtown. Familiar people populate downtown. I know which streets run which direction. I know where things are in the bookshops and libraries, and that you can't ride your bike through the ped mall.

I've been here nearly eight months. It's amazing how long these things really take.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

My New and Somewhat Capacious Shoulderbag

Well. I'm in love. Today I went to the library and the co-op, and on this simple errand I took my new bag. I've decided it's mostly the greatest thing ever. While I rode, even when I stood up to pedal up hills (or race furiously towards a soon-to-be-yellow light), the bag did not budge. It then proceeded, in spite of its modest size, to fit everything I needed to carry inside. Just to prove the greatness of this feat, I took a photo:


I think, from this point forward, I will rarely be seen apart from my timbuk2 beauty.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Erik M. Lauritzen

"Artist, photographer, teacher, and Faculty Emeritus of TMCC, Erik passed away at his home with family at his bedside on August 9.

In his short 34-year career, Erik created a prolific body of artwork which has received many honors and is contained in public, corporate, and private collections as well as shown in numerous solo and group exhibitions.

Samples of his lifelong passion can be viewed on his website. www.eriklauritzen.com

View and enjoy."

A big blow contained in a small email today.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Triumph

Today I executed my first flawless campaign on ebay. Several day ago, I started looking for a small, left-handed, timbuk2 bag. You see, to buy the exact bag I wanted new would cost me $110, plus shipping. This seemed steep, even though everyone I know who's owned one of these bags has loved and abused it to distraction. The bags alway bear such treatment with stoic indifference, and seem to last forever. They also offer certain amenities for the bike commuter - most notably a small strap that clips across the chest to ensure that the shoulder bag does not budge while the wearer pedals furiously through traffic. In my bike travels, I have to constantly adjust my purse so that it's not bumping into my legs. To say nothing of the dangers of distracted, one handed riding, my right collarbone has been slightly raw for weeks.

Yes, that is correct. It's my right collarbone across which my purse strap lies. Which brings me to a previously undiscovered peculiarity in my nature. As all of you who know me well are aware, I am right handed. It would appear, however, that while most right-handed people are left-shouldered, I am not. I am, as proven through a definitive series of tests with Brian's timbuk2 bag, right shouldered. I can't change. It's just the way I am.

Naturally, (and here I get a tiny little glimmer of appreciation for the difficulties lefties face in everyday life) left-handed/right-shouldered timbuk2 bags are rare, and can only be acquired through custom design - hence the hefty price tag.

Ebay had the answer to my problem - a custom bag someone purchased only to receive and dislike the color. They offered it up, unused, for a fraction of its retail price. I spied this rare specimen days out, watched its progress until today, when I logged on to participate in the tense final moments of the auction. With scorn I sat coolly before my laptop as my opponents grew excited and began placing impatient bids ten minutes too soon. Finally, I orchestrated a perfectly timed blow with a mere 15 seconds still on the clock. The guy who almost won the bag never knew what hit him.

I look forward to approaching days of unscathed collarbones and secure commuting.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Finally - A Title

As it is Sunday and raining and I've run out of viable excuses for my recently finished novel's lack of name, I've given it something to go by. Henceforth, it shall be The Teardrop Game. So, now it feels much more complete. =)

I would like to thank Brian for coming up with this title, and for then waiting patiently while I explored many other (bad) possibilities before accepting the brilliance of his.

Friday, August 17, 2007

It's Good For You

Although I have now been employed by both a university museum and a reputable private gallery, have framed more pieces of art than I can remember and hung a fair number of exhibitions, I never find myself growing tired of art. For years now, I've made my living framing and preserving other people's visual treasures. I have taken pieces apart for re-framing to see that the previous framer jerry-rigged the inside in a manner that is slowly destroying the artwork. I have also found myself faced with questions of a difficult moral sort with regards to solving problems on the job. I know that art is not always handled with respect, and so I do my best to keep in mind when I'm working that although whatever I'm framing is just another job for me, it's a one and only to someone else. I am very careful.

Not long ago, Brian and I had some downtime at Chicago's Midway airport, and we found ourselves killing time in front of an unusual display: a gigantic, dangling bird made up of tiny plastic airplanes on bits of transparent wire. Brian and I had a brief discussion about the wonders of scaffolding, and then we moved on. This is not the only piece of art I've noticed in an improbable place, and I always assume when something large is suspended like that, the people who hung it had access to superior methods of attaining high places than I've ever encountered.


Today, however, I realized I'm probably wrong about this. At one point this morning, Nick popped into the back room with an innocent, "Hey Robin, will you give me a hand?" I followed him to the main hallway, where he pointed at an absolutely enormous painting and then up to two nails so high up on the wall I could barely see them. "Do you want to stand at the bottom and hold, or climb up the ladder and hang?"

I am not a confident creature once placed on a ladder, so I opted to remain on the floor. The next several minutes included a lot of Nick scampering up and down the metal steps while I stood, nearly on my tiptoes, bracing the painting against the ceiling and occasionally enacting a pathetic shuffle in one direction or another when Nick said things like, "A little to the left." In the midst of this, I recalled all the other times I've been at the bottom of a ladder helping to hang large or ungainly art. I also reflected on the degree of pain one can withstand when one must, wondered how badly a fall from that height would hurt Nick, and imagined the type of sound the painting would make if it hit the floor.

When my ab muscles were burning and my forearms were beginning to shudder spasmodically, Nick, from far above, looked down and said, "You okay down there?" It took me a moment to gather the strength with which to answer, "I'm fine." Then he laughed, scampered down the ladder and said, "It's good for you." Then, "Okay. Let go and see what happens."

The painting stayed put. And although any number of our art-loving clientèle will probably notice and compliment the large, striking painting high up on the wall, I doubt any of them will wonder how it got up there. In a week or so, when my hands have regained the ability to open and close without discomfort, I'll probably enjoy looking at it too.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Home Improvements

A few days ago, Brian and I happened to be at the hardware store. While wandering the aisles looking for the things we'd come for, we came across some hooks one drills into something and then hangs a bike from. Our living room and dining room have been, admittedly, a little cluttered of late. So, we decided to try these hooks out. They worked beautifully, and now five of our whole bikes and our two partial bikes are suspended in the air above the basement floor.

Here's Brian, sitting on the steps next to my racer-x and my jamis.


Here is Brian's canondale, his 1x1, and my modena, plus the two empty frames in the distance.


So, that leaves us with only our two every-day bikes in our living space.

Truth be told, however, the hanging started even earlier in the day when we decided to adorn our kitchen wall with the wine rack Mom and Dad gave us. (It holds four glasses too, but we're waiting to make sure we don't bump into it much before adding such fragile occupants.)


And finally, since the wine rack took the spot Brian's painting used to hang, we moved that into the dining room. This is better, because now it's more visible anyway.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Encore

I am now officially registered in a nonfiction readings class at the University of Iowa as a "tentative, non-degree seeking graduate student."

I dunno. I think I consider myself a tentatively surreptitious degree seeking graduate student.

Monday, August 13, 2007

N + 1

I have to say, there couldn't have been a better time to reunite with my Jamis. Although I still get a little thrill of disbelief every time I remember my old bike is with me again, it's rapidly reintegrating. With Mom and Meryl still here, we've had some getting around town to do, and it helps to have two townie bikes that both fit my sister and I perfectly. Meryl and I dashed over to the mall a couple of nights ago to see Ratatouille, and yesterday the three of us did some exploring of town.

Now that I have a townie bikes with gears, a townie bike without gears, a road bike, and a mountain bike, I sort of wonder how I ever got along in the days before the Fuji came along. The hardest decision I'll now have to face every morning is which glorious set of wheels to take on my day's adventures. We have some tentative plans to avail ourselves of the Jamis' touring capabilities - adorn it with some baskets and/or racks, perhaps some 650B wheels, and bigger tires. We'll see, but the possibilities are exciting.

Which just goes to show, as a cyclist friend of Brian's explained to me not long ago, the perfect number of bikes really is n + 1 (n being the number of bikes you already have). We are now a happy couple with seven fully functional bikes under one roof, and two extra frames.

On a different note, it's been great fun having my family here. Although the house is a little fuller than usual, we've had some good times involving port, cucumber sandwiches, WD-40, and potting soil (none of these things were combined). Our front porch is looking much more attractive since my intelligent female relatives suggested a brilliant way to fix (and clean) the exterior windows and, of course, they always help bolster my deplorable lack of interest in the area of clothing. So, I'm looking a bit better as well.


My mother and sister will head back to the land of sagebrush and mesquite trees tomorrow, and we here among the grass and humidity will miss them.

Friday, August 10, 2007

A Miracle

As my family was off visiting Grinnell today, Brian and I decided to go hit happy hour downtown after work. While sitting outside on a lovely patio, we had a couple of beers, and got to talking about sushi, and how great sushi is. We talked about sushi for long enough we felt we had to have some, so we decided to go to Takanami on our way home.

We walked through downtown at a leisurely pace. As we approached the intersection at Dubuque and Iowa streets, I glanced across the road and saw a solitary bike locked to a rack. The bike looked oddly familiar. It exuded a restless quality that pulled at my heartstrings. Also, it was dark green with silver decals. I looked closer and discerned some red on the underside of the saddle. Telling myself not to get excited, I said, "I think that's my bike."

Brian and I crossed the street. As we drew closer, there could no longer be any doubt. The Johnny Sprocket's decal on the down-tube, the double-sided pedals, the clamp for my light on the handlebars... everything was right. It was my bike. Undeniably, irrefutably my good old Jamis Aurora - stolen from my porch three months ago today.

I said, "What do we do?"

We called the police. They found the report I'd filed and an officer soon arrived on the scene. He verified the description and called for backup. Presently, another officer joined us, this one wielding the bolt cutters of justice (the handles were at least three feet long). After hacking through the lock that held my bike captive, they sent Brian and I off home with my liberated steed.

Unfortunately, the bike is a little worse for its journey into the unknown. It is going to need some repairs, as the thief obviously made no attempt to maintain or care for it. But, I'm just happy to have it back. Too bad it can't tell me all it's been through. Fortunately, as it wasn't a flashy bike to begin with, its new scars will just add character.


After bringing my bike safely home, we headed back downtown and had some celebratory sushi. It was pretty wonderful.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

The One Where I Wish I Was As Good At Coming Up With Post Titles as Brian

Yesterday I remembered why I don't drive around town. My boss said to me in the morning, "I need you to go pick up a piece from the Jessup building on campus for repairs."

A simple sounding task. It would have been simpler if I was a student and familiar with the university. It also would have been simpler if many streets in Iowa City weren't closed due to construction. It would have been less of a task if I had ever driven on the streets between my work and campus, but as I invariably walk or bike everywhere, navigating this one-way street riddled maze in Nick's meticulously clean, and well-loved Lexus SUV was nothing short of nerve-wracking. As I drove around, I wondered how many of the other cars that were making my life more difficult with their presence were driven by people who easily could have walked or biked to their destinations.

Oh, and also it was pouring down rain. (I would note here that although a light dampening of rainwater damages art, it does not harm people.)

Suffice it to say the rather large and surprisingly heavy piece of art, the car, and I all made it back to the mansion intact, but I was so keyed-up by the end of the ordeal that a customer startled me a little later and I jumped so violently I lost my grip on the wire I was tightening and left a long, shallow gash in my arm with the needle-nose pliers.

But, I have the day off today to hang out with my visiting family. Yesterday, I believe my client and I put the finishing touches on her website, so I should have a truly labor free day. I believe my family and I will explore wineries and breweries, and perhaps take a (walking) tour of Iowa City and campus.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Enjoying That Place Between Being a Kid, and Having Kids

Last night Brian and I blew off dinner in lieu of consuming cookies and beer until we weren't hungry anymore.

A Feat

Yesterday, I accomplished something I'm a little proud of. I went to a client's house and from there to a part of town I'd never seen before (I didn't even know it was there, actually), found the place I was looking for, and then came home. I didn't follow a set route to get there or back, and I did all this without ever losing my sense of direction.

I will admit there were a couple rocky moments when I turned out of a neighborhood onto a street that was not perpendicular to the road I'd been driving on, but rather more like a 62° angle. All the other streets that branched off around me weren't aligned either. The people who constructed Iowa City didn't seem to know about the simple concept of a grid. But, despite these odds, I made it through.

Now, you might be thinking that I'm a little pathetic if I can't even venture into part of my own town without getting turned around, but let me defend myself by saying that I am struggling against the odds here. I grew up in the shadow of the Catalina Mountains. Off in the distance reared the Tucson Mountains, and the Tortolitas. When I moved to Flagstaff, the peaks were always hugely present outside my window, and on the four-hour drive between Tucson and Flagstaff, there was never a smooth horizon. Mountains were not just scenery for me, they were a fact of life.

In Iowa there are no mountains. None. There aren't even any overgrown hills. The landscape just rolls and rolls and things like trees and houses consistently block out the view of the low, low horizon.

Needless to say, as I grew up my sense of direction logically based itself on landmarks. When I first arrived here in Iowa, where there are no landmarks, I found myself instantly disoriented by, say, glancing quickly over my shoulder, or walking into a building and then walking out again a little later.

What I discovered during my little foray into the unknown realm of crooked streets and new parts of town - I've made some progress. (Although I will also note that yesterday my combined driving distance was less than six miles...)

Friday, August 03, 2007

When the Internet is Creepy

Scenario - A friend tells me about StumbleUpon. It seems kind of cool. I make a small profile and look around. Not long after, some guy finds my profile.

Guy: Hi Robin I like the Picture, it makes you think when I look at it.

Me: Thanks

Guy*: Thank you so much for getting back in touch with me as it actually made my day!!!, I don't know what made me so excited about you and how it all happen, but I am very interested to find out. I'm thinking I would like to know more about you. You sound like all that a man would need, is this true?

*This is only a tiny section of his letter.

Me: If you are looking for qualities of honesty, loyalty and respect, perhaps you should have had enough respect to read my profile before contacting me in this manner. The only real fact I mention about myself is that I'm in a relationship, and only online looking for friends.

Furthermore, since I am not single, even if I were interested in corresponding with you, I would have to be unfaithful to my boyfriend to interact with you, which would prove I am dishonest and disloyal, and therefore, by default, not what you say you are looking for.

Since I'm sure you use this letter over and over again, I thought I'd help you out with a vocabulary lesson to help you embarrass yourself a little less next time.


pa·tience -noun: the quality of being patient, as the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like.

pa·tient(s) -noun: a person who is under medical care or treatment.

ef·fect -noun: something that is produced by an agency or cause; result; consequence

af·fect -verb (used with object): to act on; produce an effect or change in

too -adverb: to an excessive extent or degree; beyond what is desirable, fitting, or right

to -preposition: used for expressing motion or direction toward a point, person, place, or thing approached and reached, as opposed to from


As far as your question about a "pretty lady" like me being on the internet, I am online to share media and ideas, and it is our harassment at the hands of men like you that make women like me so reluctant to appear in internet communities. It is ridiculous that you describe my polite, single word reply as a "letter" and construe it as my desire to get to know you. I try not to immediately assume all men who contact me randomly are creepy, but time and time again men like you prove me wrong.

Please do not contact me again.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Big Day

Well, it's done. I'll post the whole thing tomorrow. Or the next day. Or maybe Sunday, when I have some time off work again. I'm absolutely exhausted and can't sit in front of the computer any longer tonight. And my hand is cramping. And my neck hurts from sitting in the same position for so long. Oh, the woes and perils of creative expression.

The final total (although it has a number of gaps and plot flaws/sudden redirections that need to be smoothed out): 104, 176 words.

In other big news, I got a new web job today. I'll be working for a calligrapher. I met with her this afternoon and then came home and bought the domain. Keep an eye out for changes over the next few weeks. I think this will be a cool project.

Oh, and thanks to everyone who voted in support of my noveling binge - and fie on whoever selected, "No way." =)