A Twitter from Space

When I saw that astronaut Mike Massimino had decided to become the first astronaut to twitter from space I decided to follow him for a while and see how it went.

I'm not a big twitter user. I have an account but I seldom update it.  At this point I don't allow people to follow me without my permission.  And I don't have a lot of interest in following other people. Right now I'm only following 23 people and some of them aren't even people.  For instance, I'm following my local wine shop so I can find out about sales.  But I'm still following writer Arjun Bassu who writes complete works of fiction in 140 characters.

I've tried to follow more people.  But it never works out.  I'll see that someone has decided to twitter and I'll think, "hey! He/She would be interesting to follow."  But after a few days I'll un-follow them.  Especially journalists and politicians who use twitter almost exclusively to promote themselves or their work.   That's boring.  I can see them promote themselves, well, pretty much anywhere. 

So when I decided to follow Astro_Mike (as he calls himself) I fully expected that I would grow bored with him after a few days and cut him off. 

Boy was I wrong.  Mike is a natural born twitterer.  He is exactly the kind of person you'd want to follow.  He's doing something interesting and he gives you little updates as if you were part of a big extended family to whom he is sending postcards from space.   He lets you in on the day-to-day "stuff".

From orbit: Watching our commander, Scott “Scooter” Altman, practice space shuttle landings using a laptop

From orbit: Getting ready for bed, sleeping in space is cool, tie down your sleeping bag and float inside of it, very relaxing

From orbit: Listening to Sting on my ipod watching the world go by – literally

But what I liked most were his thoughts about what he was seeing.

From orbit: As I closed my eyes to sleep last night I thought “these eyes have seen some beautiful sights today”

And as he twittered more he grew better at describing the beautiful things he was seeing.

From orbit: The stars at night in space do not twinkle, they look like perfect points of light and I can clearly see the milky way galaxy

From orbit: Viewing the Earth is a study of contrasts, beautiful colors of the planet, thin blue line of atmosphere, pure blackness of space

From orbit: Just saw Orion’s nebula in the night sky – the sights make all the hard work and risk worthwhile for me

I wished that I was there with him to see it.  And he wished it too:

From orbit: My only regret when viewing the Earth is that my wife & children are not with me to see it (along with all of you following me)

Now that Mike (I think it's ok if I call him Mike) is back on earth I don't know that I'll keep following him or even if he'll keep twittering.  But I'm glad I followed him into space.

In Praise of Editors

The Elegant Variation just ran a four part series in which it reprinted in full (with permission) an essay by Susan Bell, "Revisioning The Great Gatsby", which appears in The Writer's Notebook: Craft Essays from Tin House, a collection of essays that offers "aspiring writers insight into the craft of writing."

This essay explores the way in which F. Scott Fitzgerald's editor, Max Perkins, influenced the final version of The Great Gatsby.

Here's a taste:

In autumn 1924, Fitzgerald sent Perkins the Gatsby manuscript. The editor diagnosed its kinks, then wrote a letter of lavish praise and unabashed criticism. “And as for the sheer writing, it is astonishing,” wrote Perkins. “The amount of meaning you get into a sentence, the dimensions and intensity of the impression you make a paragraph carry are most extraordinary.” A crucial problem, though, was the hero’s palpability. Perkins explained:

Among a set of characters marvelously palpable and vital—I would know Tom Buchanan if I met him on the street and would avoid him—Gatsby is somewhat vague. The reader’s eyes can never quite focus upon him, his outlines are dim. Now everything about Gatsby is more or less a mystery, i.e. more or less vague, and this may be somewhat of an artistic intention, but I think it is mistaken.

Gatsby’s vagueness was intentional, according to Fitzgerald’s December 1 reply: “[Gatsby’s] vagueness I can repair by making more pointed—this doesn’t sound good but wait and see. It’ll make him clear.” To make Gatsby too clear would make him too human and unheroic. Fitzgerald wanted to clarify Gatsby’s vagueness, not Gatsby himself. But in a fascinating turnabout, on December 20 the author wrote again, this time to confess that the vagueness was not altogether intentional:

I myself didn’t know what Gatsby looked like or was engaged in & you felt it. If I’d known & kept if from you you’d have been too impressed with my knowledge to protest. This is a complicated idea but I’m sure you’ll understand. But I know now—and as a penalty for not having known first, in other words to make sure I’m going to tell more.

Here are links to all four parts. Well worth reading in my opinion.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Thursday's Question

Booking Through Thursday asks:

Is there a book that you wish you could “unread”? One that you disliked so thoroughly you wish you could just forget that you ever read it?

The thing is, I do usually forget that I read it. Although I tend to overthink many things I don't tend to dwell on things that don't interest me. In fact, I've been accused of intentionally forgetting things that I'm not interested in.

But, for reasons that will become clear in a future post, I've been thinking of books that include The Bonfire of the Vanities. And I regret that I remember it. What a waste of time that was, reading that.

Twilight Sounds

Last November I viewed a traveling exhibition of American Abstract Expressionism that was briefly at the St. Louis Art Museum. I wrote about it here. One of the works I really liked was called Twilight Sounds, painted by African American artist Norman Lewis. I included an image in my post, click through to see it.

Time Magazine art blogger Richard Lacayo also likes that work. He uses an image of it in his recent post Art Goes to the Obama White House. According to Lacayo

... First Families are free to choose whatever works they like for the White House residence and offices, including the Oval Office. As for the public areas, the president and his family can make proposals for what to show there, but those have to be approved by the White House curator and something called the Committee for the Preservation of the White House, which sounds like it was formed to protect the place from Damien Hirst's shark. Works can be lent by museums, galleries or private collectors, or drawn from the 450-piece White House permanent collection. When a president leaves office, the loans are returned.

So those are the rules, and within them you more or less express your tastes, though obviously with an eye to whatever political statements your tastes are making. So choosing a painting for the White House is a bit like picking a justice for the Supreme Court, except that it doesn't have to go through a Senate confirmation hearing.

The Obamas have been choosing works over the last few months and have been choosing many abstract and modern works including works by minority artists.

According to the Wall Street Journal:

The Obamas are sending ripples through the art world as they put the call out to museums, galleries and private collectors that they’d like to borrow modern art by African-American, Asian, Hispanic and female artists for the White House. In a sharp departure from the 19th-century still lifes, pastorals and portraits that dominate the White House’s public rooms, they are choosing bold, abstract art works.

Lacayo approves of this and even makes a suggestion. It seems that Lacayo saw the same exhibition that I saw and was also struck by Lewis' painting. He recommends that the Obamas look at Lewis' work.

If the Obamas are interested in work by African-Americans and abstractionists, Lewis would be somebody worth a look, if they haven't been tipped to him already. (And I shouldn't have to say this but just so we're clear — I have no connection to — and have never even spoken with — any gallery owner, collector or even any curator who has any connection to Lewis or his work.)

I agree.

Speaking of Travel ...

On  Kottke I saw a link to something called Confessions of an Introverted Traveler.  So I clicked it.

We introverts have a different style of travel, and I’m tired of hiding it.

Oh, I’m always happy enough when interesting people stumble into my path. It’s a lagniappe, and I’m capable of connecting with people when the opportunity arises. And when the chemistry is right, I enjoy it.

But I don’t seek people out, I am terrible at striking up conversations with strangers and I am happy exploring a strange city alone. I don’t seek out political discourse with opinionated cab drivers or boozy bonding with locals over beers into the wee hours. By the time the hours get wee, I’m usually in bed in my hotel room, appreciating local color TV. (So sue me, but I contend that television is a valid reflection of a society.)

Hey!  I could have written this article.  The author, Sophia Dembling, and I are travel twins.

I am an introvert and I love to travel.  I don't mean that I am shy.  There is a difference.  Sophia explains:

Introversion and extroversion are inborn traits, and the difference between them is not that one is gregarious and at ease in the world and the other shy and awkward. Rather, extroverts are outwardly motivated and gain energy from interaction with the outside world while introverts are more inwardly directed and drained by interaction with others. Introverts’ thinking tends to be deep and slow, we require copious time alone, we prefer probing conversation to shallow chitchat, and our social lives are geared more towards intimate one-on-one interactions than “more the merrier” free-for-alls.

It's why I always prefer to have a room to myself, so I can have a little downtime when I need it.  It's why I'm nervous about staying at B&B's.  Just like Sophia:

We’re also not bed-and-breakfast people, if breakfast with other guests is mandatory. (“Where y’all from?” we joke to each other. The mating call of the B&B guest.) I once read about a B&B where the owner collected antique hats that guests were encouraged to wear to breakfast. Really? That sounds fun to people?

Last weekend was a perfect experience.  The Bed & Breakfast where I stayed was really an Inn.  I could eat breakfast all by myself at my very own table and not interact with anyone except the wait staff.  Heaven.

Sophia also offered 6 Tips for Introverted Travelers which I read carefully and with which I agree  The most important is:  always carry a book.

The Story ...

I hope everyone had a great weekend.  I spent the weekend in Indiana.  I stayed at the Story Inn in Story Indiana and visited friends nearby who showed me a wonderful time.  If you ever have the opportunity to go to Brown County, Indiana, you should.  And you might consider staying at the Story Inn:

The entire town of Story, Indiana is now a country inn/bed & breakfast, offering fine dining, catering, and lodging. The second floor of the Old General Store (briefly a Studebaker buggy factory in the 1920’s) has been renovated into four quaint bed & breakfast accommodations notable for their year-round occupant, the “Blue Lady.” The Blue Lady is a mirthful albeit innocuous apparition with flowing white robes, whose cheeky behavior has been observed by Story Inn employees and recorded in guest books since the 1970’s. (Current management notes that the frequency of her appearances increased markedly after 2001, coinciding with the arrival of a complementary bottle of privately-labeled wine in each room.) The Treaty House, Doc Story’s homestead, the Alra Wheeler homestead, the Carriage House, the Old Mill, and other historic buildings around town have each been tastefully and authentically renovated into guest cottages, many with kitchenettes and hot tubs.

Story’s Old General Store, replete with its creaky wooden floors, pot-bellied stove and long-retired Standard Oil Crown gas pumps out front, is now a celebrated gourmet restaurant known as the “Story Inn.” The restaurant is open year-round, serving for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dinners are by reservation only.

I recommend it (even though I didn't see the Blue Lady). Even if you can't stay there you should go to dinner there.  And have desert.  The homemade peach cobbler I had was almost as good as my grandma's.

Here is a photo I took on my i-phone of the old General Store building where I had breakfast each morning and where we had dinner on Saturday night:

 

It really is a magical place, stuck in another time. 

On my drive home I listened to the CD that my hosts gave me to remember Brown County by:  Liar's Bench.  I listened to it three times I enjoyed it so much.

Architect Stephen Miller grew up in Brown County...grew up hearing tales about "Aunt Mollie" Lucas, who was sweet and cheerful, and her sister, the legendary Allie Ferguson, who was fiery and fierce; Sheriff Sam Parks, a drinking man who raided Republican stills, while overlooking those belonging to his Democrat friends; Wash (pronounces "Warsh") and Mary Barnes, the husband and wife who had a falling out of affections and divided their cabin down the middle, with neither ever crossing to the other's side (when Wash died, the undertaker had to take him out the window, which was on his side of the cabin, because Mary wouldn't hear to his goin' out the door on her side), and many others.
Miller happened to relate some of these stories to a musician friend of his, Slats Klug

And the CD was born. If you open the link you can sample the music. 

Have a Good Holiday

I'm taking off early today to start the three day holiday. I hope everyone has a good weekend wherever you are and whatever you are doing.

Apropos of what I'm doing:

Or maybe this one is better:

And as a bonus, the other day I blogged about Rockcliffe Mansion and noted that it was designed by the same firm that designed the Missouri Governor's Mansion. Here's a link to a blog story with pictures of the Missouri Governor's Mansion - or "the Mary Poppins House" as I like to call it.