Plaster Creek Clean-Up: Photos

Some of the best photos from our afternoon on the creek are stuck on an uncooperative digital camera, but here's what was left over:











When I get the chance, I'll update this post with some thoughts and reflections on our experience.

Okay, so images:

The majority of the photos are cycling through in the little box to the right of this post. If you put your mouse over the box, you can scroll back or forward through the pictures. If you click on one of them, it will take you to Flickr where you can see bigger versions and perhaps a caption or description.

I guess the only problem is that not all of my photos are up there yet, and I can't get them to upload to Facebook. Blah blah blah. Technology wins again. Maybe I'll figure out how to make these things work better somewhere along the way.



more houseboats!



on the way down into Saint Paul



a building in the background

Photogenetics

Well, I developed the film from my semester in England and my Easter Break travels at the beginning of the summer, and now I am finally getting around to uploading these to the internet. It's a pretty messy collection, for now, but I hope to eventually arrange and edit them up to be a little bit nicer looking. Until then, you can check out the hodgepodge here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/tatteredatlas/York2008

Spring Break in Polaroids

I thought, now that one of my essays is done, that it was about time to post the first fruits of film from our travels. It's too expensive here to develop all the rolls of 35mm film I used, but maybe this week I'll get one done, you know, just to make sure they worked. Without further ado, then, 20 Polaroids in chronological order (click to expand):



| left: literary walk--near Charles Dickens' house (and T.S. Eliot's office and Virginia Woolf's house, etc.)
| right: St. Paul's Cathedral, looking foreboding



| left: sleet in Paris, in front of this tower thing
| right: Glamour Portrait #1: musical in front of some important building



| left: Glamour Portrait #2: John and Mallarmé at the book vendors along the Seine
| right: Glamour Portrait #3: Melody doing it Italian style



| left: group performance art at Centre Pompidou (choreography by Jenn and Mel)
| right: letter-writing and book-reading in Hotel Altona



| left: Glamour Portrait #4: Brad at Versailles
| right: last night in Paris: bad hotel, sleep deprivation, poor humour



| left: Hans-Morten's miniature guest loft in Sandefjord
| right: group shot in Bergen with Trine, Anne-Marte, and part of a stone admiral



| left: mid-hike, cold hands, overlooking foggy/rainy Bergen
| right: first morning in Reykjavik: ducks, ducks, ducks!



| left: Glamour Portrait #5: Sean, John, and Leif Ericson in front of Hallgrimskirkja ("Hallgrimur's Church")
| right: wind in the bell-tower of Hallgrimskirkja (I look like a troll from Norway) with Ana's apartment in the background



| left: John at Geysir hot springs
| right: my personal favorite--lounging in the moss beside boiling springs



| left: Sean peering over the ledge at Gullfoss
| right: first annual rock toss at a random crater

A Lonely Roll

I recently had developed the one roll of film I managed to take with my lovely Canonet before it rebroke itself. It was definitely an experiment in taking pictures, but seeing some of the results makes me only more depressed that the thing is no longer working. Here goes nothing:

Around Town


- Monk Bar, gateway to the city center


- blurred night scene


- Yorkies at work in their cubicles


- view from Gillygate road, I believe


- the York City Art Gallery (free admission!)


- crane skyline, just like in GR


- the River Ouse at dusk


Wall Walk


- houses and the Minster, complete with restoration scaffolding


- what used to be the residence of the Archbishop of York


- John reads on a corner tower


- York Saint John University


- overlooking Bootham Square and the city art gallery


- from the south walls of the city

Fountains Abbey, the Temples of Piety and Fame, the Castle Museum

Fountains Abbey and Enlightenment Temples

We had reasonably nice weather for our second visit (I believe second... I may have things confused) to abbey ruins. Unlike the abbey at Whitby, these ruins were substantial, and you could actually get a feel for how things must have functioned. The stories behind all these monasteries, although similar with each other, tend to seem so surprising and dramatic compared to the sorts of religious movements I see nowadays. To imagine a group of 12 guys setting off from civilization into a wilderness area, trying to set up house there and live simple and devote lives, working and establishing a surrounding community (often of poverty-stricken farmers and peasants)--such meaningful and drastic changes seem incredible, almost unbelievable, when viewed from with my own culture, in which not eating at McDonald's seems like a drastic life choice. Our tour guide, a religion or history professor from York St. John, made a wonderful storyteller, and his excitement and knowledge base made our time there much more enjoyable. After getting a feel for the place, we walked back through the surrounding sheep pastures and ate some snacks at the remarkably over-priced cafe/restaurant for tourists like us. We had a little time left before departure, and so a few of us made it over to see the Victorian gardens (not exactly blooming this time of year) and "temples" (i.e.--completely pointless but grand-looking monuments to abstract concepts, such as "The Temple of Piety" and "The Temple of Fame," located on dramatic points of the landscape like bluffs or hillsides). These definitely were a marked contrast, almost an ironic contradiction, to the sort of lifestyle and ideas represented by the ruins of Fountains Abbey. So I made sure to get a picture of myself with both.

 

| left: trapped Sampson-style in the Temple of Fame
| right: stumbling upon a monastery in the woods?

The Castle Museum

In brief summary, we also visited The Castle Museum. Located on the site of the old York Castle (and incorporating some very old castle leftovers, especially dungeon rooms), it houses a collection of artifacts that document the progression of English life and culture over the past few hundred years. Especially interesting to me where the reconstructed rooms from different styles and periods, featuring authentic furniture and decorations. For some reason, getting the inside scoop on how people have lived their daily lives over the years is fascinating to me. Seeing a Victorian bedroom setup or learning all about the domestic practices of the early 20th century intrigue me much more than some of the strictly historical accounts (especially the ones in which history = (equals) nothing more than military and political events). In the museum, we got to take a stroll down Kirkgate, a Victorian street reconstructed out of mostly original storefronts and materials and what-not. The various workshops of the candle maker and the cobbler and printer were all inspiring, especially to imagine them in action, although I feel that these displays hearkened back to Feudal times as much as 19th century. I never thought I'd feel nostalgic for such things, but... if I can get my hands on John's photos of the candle shop, maybe you'll feel the same.

Procrastination in the Radiant Garden

Most of today, as well as a portion of yesterday evening, have been marked by a bout of procrastination in the midst of completing our first real "assignment" here in York. The task is simple, a "reflection" on what we've learned about the history of this place, Romans and Vikings and all. And in fact, I've been quite interested in this material (our readings in books such as A Traveller's History of England by Christopher Daniell or group excursions to the Yorkshire Museum or Clifford's Tower). More than just purely academic interest, even, our brief survey of England's long and varied history has opened up new perspectives on our present-day culture, its bipolar strengths and weaknesses, and where we might all be headed. But, the burn-out I experienced at the end of last semester was not dealt with during the off-season of Christmas break, interim, and getting here to York, so now I'm stuck with trying to re-motivate myself for academics. Oh boy... I think I'd rather just keep reading poetry.

On a lighter note, on my way to lunch today, I stopped to check my post at the Student Union, and in the "W" box was a nice little Valentine addressed to me from "the ladies of GFC," via representative Kay Berry. I guess you could say this wasn't exactly the sort of mail I was expecting (I thought perhaps a late textbook had arrived by now), but it was wonderful surprise. I was with my dorm-neighbor, Emma, at the time, and she was so overwhelmed by the "cuteness" of the situation that she spread the event to I think the entire female population of apartment block E. Now all the girls are complaining about not getting Valentine's from the adults in their life.

After lunch, John barged into my room to drag me off to Morrison's "to buy a blanket." However, once we got there, he became discouraged at the high price tag of fleece throws (and they only other bedding options they seem to have here are fitted sheet, duvet, and pillow case), and I decided to fulfill my goal of buying a planter for my window. Miraculously, we wandered into the produce section of the store and there discovered an abundance of potted herbs. I chose coriander (cilantro) and flat-leafed parsley, while John opted for the more aromatic choices of mint and basil. To complete our project, we also picked up a couple narrow plastic bins and some potting soil, then headed home to take care of the transplanting. Below is a clip from after our little adventure, although it's a little too bright to see anything.



| video: The Radiant Garden (complete with audio tour)

Washing By Hand

Laundry

On my knees,
I can wring out the dirt
into a small white basin.

These garments of mine
have soaked a long time,
soaped now fruited,

rinsed, hung out
on a thin, white cord
between the walls

that hem me in, before
and behind, stretching out
from one end of all space

and time to the other.

I took a bit of Sunday afternoon to do my laundry. The machines here are ludicrously expensive, and besides the laundry room seems open infrequently, at best, so I decided to invest in a plastic bin in order to wash my clothes. For drying, I strung up a bit of rope or I utilize the extensive radiators and heated piping that runs along the border of my room. It was such a good experience, I think I might try to do away with the use of laundry machines even when I get home. I can simply purchase a washboard from Lehman's or make a more serious investment, such as the Wonder Wash. Great!



| video: a demonstration of my groundbreaking, state-of-the-art laundry techniques

Suddenly, It's Spring

Great Peter, the bell in the towers of York Minster that rings out the hours, just finished signaling the seven o'clock hour, or 19:00. Looking out my window across the dormitory courtyard, I see the giant face of the Minster illuminated against the night sky. It is unusually (or so I hear) windy this evening, but other than that I would consider it most mild, warm even. This afternoon, at least, was wonderfully blue and sunny, especially compared to the recent grew snows of Grand Rapids. I can only imagine what wonderful effects this could have on the mid-winter blues which were just beginning to set in back home.

After a handful of delays with planes, shuttles, etc. (like accidentally having an extra 2000 pounds of fuel loaded into our plane to Chicago?), we made it to York Saint John just after noon. We half unpacked and set up shop in our rooms and got a bit to eat from the cafeteria before a rather chaotic campus tour and class registration process--at least, it seemed chaotic after not sleeping much for a few days. By the end of it all, I felt more disoriented than the other way around, but I suppose that's all right because I figured out which classes I am going to take and learned the whereabouts of the coffee shop as well as the on-campus pub.

Jamie gave us a whirlwind tour of downtown York before dinner, and so we got to see them tearing down the markets while the sun cast a golden haze on to York Minster's west towers. The downtown is unimaginably (at least for someone from the midwest of the United States) beautiful and full of life. The heart of the city is surrounded by walls built, I believe around the time of Constantine, and so entrance can only be gained through the city gates (called "bars"), for example Monk's Bar or Bootham Bar. Cars and motor traffic are kept to a minimum, except at night for deliveries or tearing down market stalls--otherwise, it is just pedestrians and bicycles to explore the shops, theaters, restaurants, galleries, pubs, cafes, historic sites, churches, and ancient alleyways. The only familiar sign or slogan I saw was Pizza Hut. What a relief.

Dinner in the dining hall was greasy but not half bad: vegetable samosas with mango chutney, bread pudding, and local milk (although, mango chutney and custard don't mix too well in a sleep-deprived belly). Afterwards, John, Bryan, and I walked to Sainsbury's (the equivalent of D&W or Family Fare)j and a few other stores to pick up some necessary supplies. Things at these chain stores, at least, seemed an odd mixture of incredibly affordable (40 pence for a big jug of soap) and more expensive (5 pound for batteries). At any rate, it seems more manageable, at least in my circumstances, to survive on a budget than I had imagined.

I do hate to generalize, even on the positive side, but the people I've encountered have been especially friendly. Students in the building I'm living in acknowledge me and the rest of the group, even going out of their way to to say hello. Even strangers on the sidewalk asked us if we needed help. Now, that could just be because we stick out like sore thumbs (which I definitely feel), but even then I think it speaks well of the people I've been around so far.

Tomorrow, I think we'll have to take care of some more practical things, but after that, the day will most likely consist of a trip back down to the river, getting a public library card, and a trip to the free city art museum. But, those sorts of grand activities require sleep, which I haven't had much of...



| photo: a view of my bed, window, and desk from the sink
| video: no sleep!

Summer 2007 - The Haunted Tour

I see now (approx. 2.5 years later) that I never got around to finishing, or even beginning, my account of our Winston Jazz Routine Tour with State Bird and Discover America. All I had posted was this link to a live recording of one song of our set in Abilene, TX. It's a somewhat clamorous reworking of the quiet title track off of Sospiri. I guess it's... all right (was Nate sick that day or something?).

http://www.virb.com/silencesessions/music/albums/27582