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ReadingRead not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider. |
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Monday, April 27, 1998
My friend Jason passed me the first draft of a story he is writing. I don't know yet what sort of critique or edit he expects, but I like the story on first reading.
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We had a big team meeting this afternoon, as we periodically do. There isn't an auditorium big enough for the entire team in our complex of buildings, so we hiked through the woods to another location. We could have taken the sidewalk, but this way was more fun. I can't say too much about what was discussed, obviously, but most presenters were blessedly brief and to the point. My team manager gave an longer version of a trip report he had sent around last week, detailing his experiences at the Builder.com conference in San Francisco. There was a call for ideas for a team t-shirt, but since I probably won't be getting one -- contractors often don't -- I won't be submitting an entry.
We had a bookclub meeting this evening at dinnertime, so I spent the two hours between my normal quitting time and the start of the meeting rereading the book. Waking the Moon, by Elizabeth Hand, is one I really like. Her prose is really lush! And the descriptions of the settings are specific and accurate; the parts of the book set in DC jibe with my time there. The plot is gripping. Several people at the bookclub said they couldn't put it down, even folks who said they didn't like it! Maybe the ending is the weakest part. It's difficult to live up to such a great setup.
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I had to bolt from the bookclub meeting. My original plan had been to meet with X---- at his place, but it had suited him better to come over to my place. He hadn't been there before! In the normal course of events I would have cleaned up before a first-time visit, but luckily the place wasn't in too tough shape. I did have to stop at the grocery store on the way home. I didn't even have food or drink to offer!
It turned out that X---- had already eaten. I'll eat what I bought, myself, tomorrow night -- raspberries, blueberries, and a foccacia sandwich. It had been three weeks since I last saw him, so it took a few minutes to get used to his presence. We went for a walk in the neighborhood. He had driven through Capitol Hill once, when he was lost one time, but hadn't been there on foot before. It was a beautiful evening, warm and still.
He read me a few chapters from the book he is writing. The book is an unusual mixture: the intersection of teaching methods for the technical subject that the book is about, and psychological theory and the science of the mind used as a basis for true teaching. He used a metaphor for the teacher-student relationship as a dance, which naturally struck home with me.
Being read to is an interesting experience; I think next time I'd like to have a printed version to follow along with. There's been times when I studied poetry and needed to have the audio and print versions, both at the same time. Having both channels helped me to pay attention. (Not that my mind was wandering while X--- was reading, of course.) X--- forgot the book (an earlier one, already published) that he was supposed to bring me, but I thrust a copy of my printed zine on him anyway.
I really enjoyed spending time with X----. He showed wisdom by expressing his appreciation of qualities that I value in myself. (Imagine the discomfort of being praised for what you think of as a flaw!) He also asked me to tell him more about myself, and readers know that I am one of my favorite subjects.
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