I was halfway through another piece about our road trip. Something about winding roads and mountains. I made a bad keystroke and lost it. I’ll do it this weekend, after I stop fuming. Meanwhile, something in its place.
Category: Whimsy
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On The Road…And Back
Few things satisfy me more than going on a trip with Donna. In the last three decades we’ve taken some fine vacations and she is the best traveling companion I’ve found.
This one, however, contained extra pleasure.
On the Fourth of July we flew to Sacramento, CA, to attend Westercon 66. I’d forgotten (if I ever really knew) that Westercon in years past had been a Big Deal. Major regional SF convention. It had fallen into decline, though, and this one was the first in an intended recovery. I hope they manage it because this one was truly fine. Even if it hadn’t been, though, it would have been great because two of our best friends, Nicola Griffith and Kelley Eskridge, were co guests of honor. We’ve known each other since Clarion in 1988.
But wait! There’s more! As well, Brooks Caruthers, Jay Brazier, Kimberly Rufer-Bach, and Andy Tisbert joined us for a mini-class reunion. One of our instructors, Kim Stanley Robinson, also showed up for a day, as did the current director of the workshop, Karen Joy Fowler. Another Clarionite, Cliff Winig, class of ’97, attended as well.
I’ll write more about this later. For now I just wanted to put a place marker down to note that the feelings felt and expressed were unexpectedly strong. Donna commented that watching us it seemed our Clarion group had parted company only last month, so fast did the reconnection happen. I’d forgotten the way in which these people mean so much to me.
After the convention, however, we leased a car and headed into the Northern California hinterlands to finish up some of what we’d missed back in 2001 when we drove from Oakland to Placerville to Eugene to Seattle. The balance of the trip was as amazing as the beginning, in wholly different ways. I shot over 500 photographs. Over the next several weeks I’ll post those I deem worthwhile and tell you all a little bit about the trip.
Basically, we headed for the coast. The first leg ended at Eureka. We went up the coast to Crescent City, then up 199 and down the other side of the range to Redding. We ended in Alta, for a quiet weekend with two friends who have made themselves a pocket of peacefulness atop 4000 feet of foothill. As with all the best trips, it ended too soon.
Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with another image and the promise of more details and other photographs. We’re back home now, chock full of memories, and glad of each other in new ways.
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Two More Tomorrow
Two more shots of The Men of Tomorrow, courtesy Jarek Steele of Left Bank Books.
Men of Tomorrow in concert 
Mood Soloing Might use this last one for some kind of avatar somewhere.
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The Men of Tomorrow
So, the other night, the 22nd to be exact, I committed Public Performance. I had help. Two brave musicians, both of whom are better at their respective instruments than I am at mine, joined me to play jazz-like music at the Mad Art Gallery where Left Bank Books and other St. Louis Independent bookstores celebrated World Book Night. I mentioned this in a previous post.
The main event of the evening was an on-stage interview conducted by author Curtis Sittenfeld of author J.R. Moehringer.
Here we see Left Bank’s Shane Mullen introducing them:
The interview was great. Lively, informative, and Moehringer is very entertaining. Afterward came author signings, aimless milling about, imbibing (cash bar) and…us.
This event was the brainchild of Left Bank’s co-owner, Jarek Steele, who approached me one day at work a few months back and said, “Hey, I have an idea…” I said yes. Then later, I thought I said yes! Am I out of my mind?
This entailed gathering other musicians, rehearsals, and then renting a keyboard. I had to learn a few new pieces, Rich and Bill had to figure out how to play along with the bizarre manner in which I play. I have to admit, our first rehearsal was not promising. My handicap is that I don’t usually perform with a group. 99% of what I do, I do solo. That is a very different discipline than ensemble. I had to overcome some bad habits (a couple of which I failed to overcome, but hey, nobody noticed), and get some chops down better than I’ve done in some time.
A word about the keyboard. This detail almost ended the project before it began, because my piano is not portable. Not really. After calling around, I found MidWest Music. These folks rent instruments. Yes, they had a digital piano available. They told me the model, I checked out a couple of demos, it seemed perfectly suitable. Donna and I went out to set it up and…
Well, they had a brand new instrument they wanted to showcase, so I got an upgrade to a Roland RD-700nx. Yes, I’m linking to the demo video so you can see why I had the musical equivalent of a one-night-stand with this. I likened using this piano for this gig to taking a Ferrari to the supermarket. It was far more instrument than I needed that night.
We showed up nameless. I was asked by our events coordinator if we had one. No. One night? A one-off? A couple of things passed through my head, but…no.
Shane named us. Suddenly we were “Mark Tiedemann and the Men of Tomorrow.” After a moment of “Aw, come on!” I started to think, “Hey, that’s not bad. ” By the time we went on, I decided to ask him if we could keep it. You know, just in case this ever happens again.
It has been a long time since I played at all seriously in front a room full of people I didn’t know. It kind of surprised me how nerve-wracking it was. But…
I always know when I’ve done okay because I come away from the performance with almost no memory of what I did. Mistakes and just plain bad performances I remember with a clarity that cuts, but if things go more or less well, there’s just a hazy wash of “Yeah, I was there” and not much else.
I want to thank Rich and Bill here for making me sound as good as we did. Bill is an exceptional drummer. I can say this because he took the weird and rather undisciplined rhythms I play, made them his own, and glued the performances together. Rich is an exceptional guitarist.
So that’s how my week started off. How’s yours going?
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Afterimage
I finished the first draft of the new (old) novel, a rewrite of a rather pathetic bit of crime fiction that I just could not give up on. The chapters are being reviewed as I write this. I’m taking some time off. I put in some long days on this and it still isn’t ready for prime time.
Meantime, something somewhat disturbing to keep the reader wondering, “Just where did he go that weekend and who—or what—was he with?”
To tell you the truth, I’m not sure myself. I woke up in my own bed, but the room looked too normal. I stumbled to the bathroom and decided the hat had to go, but it helped, and I’m not sure I can get through what’s to come without it. I need a shave.There’s missing time. Someone else is missing it, though, I remember every second of it.
I may be in the mood for some alien jazz. On the other hand, the Fool’s March is drumming in the background and my eye is pulsing in rhythm to the slipped and syncopated beat. Another day in Memeopolis, no body but the killer must be caught. It should be up to me, but who’s gonna trust a face like that? See, the hat it essential.
Whatever happens, I will be played out. After the last coda and the ink is dry, sleep. Not a big one, just medium-sized. There are too many more stories to figure out.
Have a nice world.
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New Mars
Yeah, I was goofing off this morning, trying to find a way into a rewrite, and needing to distract myself from overthinking it. So I redid my header (see above). It’s the same NASA image I had up before…only different. I did some Photoshopping and added color and such.
The framing tool for WordPress, though, forces some heavy crops, so here is the full image as reworked:
Vibrant Mars! As cool as the original was, it was also kinda monochromatic. So I played around, did something more…Barsoom-ish. Anyway, having once known how to add color to an image and then forgot the method, I have now rediscovered it and will use it a bit more often.
It occurs to me, though, that in all seriousness, should we ever settle Mars and start using it, over time the surface will change. No, I’m not talking about the future of a terraformed world, where we intentionally put liquid water back on the surface and beef up the atmosphere. Such grandiose plans are the precinct of science fiction, although that may well happen, too. But I’m talking about the more likely scenario, the opportunistic, done-by-the-lowest bidder exploitation of resources, which will have “unintended” effects. The release of certain gases, minerals, and so forth, the addition of others, the detritus of industrial works, all will work to give us a show that may end up producing effects somewhat like this. We’ll get a front row seat, via telescopy, of environmental impact. It may even be beautiful in certain ways, but it will be obvious change.
Anyway, back to fiction, now.
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New Me
I haven’t done any serious new shots of myself for a while. A few opportunistic snapshots here and there, but nothing suitable for framing, so to speak. Comic Con is coming up and I’ll be there and I was asked for a photo, so this morning Donna (patiently) indulged me and we did some new ones. This one isn’t going out for a head shot, but I rather like it:
She wanted one with the orchids and I don’t usually do profiles, so…
I had something in mind more like this, though, since I’ve been feeling a bit more physically…well, the way I’d like to feel…
Sort of a catalogue feel, if you know what I mean. What you imagine in the mind’s eye is rarely what you actually get, but I don’t think I’m likely to look much better anymore, given the nature of time and such like.
Combination of surgery and doggedly returning to the gym. Cutting back on snacks, too—about all I allow myself anymore is the occasional oatmeal cookie.
I wanted to go for a noirish look, but I’m either just a bit too cheerful or not quite bleak enough. The best I can achieve is a sort of nod in that direction.
The hat makes it. That’s my favorite hat. Brought that back from Minneapolis many years ago. My cool hat. Sometimes I wear it to get in the mood to play some jazz, like here:
Michael LaRue shot that at the latest coffeehouse. That was a nervous night, actually, so the hat was as much camouflage and shield as affectation (the bosses were there that evening) but it goes with the kind of music.
Probably, though, the way most people will remember me (assuming they do) is with a coffee mug in hand.
This wholly self-indulgent post is…self-indulgent. Sometimes I need to be reminded of the reality, though. Looking out through one’s own eyes, from the stand-point of whatever homunculus one has constructed to act as what we call “self image” is in need of occasional adjustment. “Drift” in the sense of a mismatch between what you think people see and what is really there happens all the time. Being reminded we aren’t quite what we think we are isn’t a bad thing from time to time, and the occasion for new “promo” shots is a good opportunity to reassess.
On the other hand, it’s also a good thing when it turns out that things aren’t as bad as they could be.
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New Black & White
I’m still perusing my new Edward Weston and Ansel Adams books. Sigh. I lurves me good black & white. Not that this image is particularly good, but it’s my most recent.
Moon Over Mundania I’m working on a new novel. Well, not new new, but new enough. And reading. And right now watching pesky snow fall and wishing I didn’t have to go into work this afternoon.
So this is another marker till I have something meatier to post. Enjoy and stay warm.
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Portrait of a Good Friend
Coffey, 2013 I haven’t done a new picture of Coffey in a bit. She graciously agreed to sit for this portrait, responding with uncanny sensitivity to my vague suggestions for pose and poise, finally opting to just be herself, waiting for something more energetic to happen.
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Unexpected Blossoms
New Bloom Back in August some friends sent me a lovely orchid as a get-well gift. Gorgeous flowers. Naturally, they died, and we thought, that’s the end of that. We’d heard how delicate orchids were.
But we did not discard the empty stalk, just moved it to another room on the off-chance. Much to our delight, the “delicate” blossoms have responded to a modicum of benign neglect, and once more we have great beauty made even more wonderful by it’s complete unexpectedness.
I’ve also been combing a new book of Edward Weston photographs and feeling the urge to do new photography. It’s been a while, so…
