Thursday, November 24, 2011
Happy Thanksgiving!
Whether you celebrate the holiday or not, whether you're with all your extended family or volunteering in a soup kitchen, whether there's a turkey or the table or not, I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
ASHE 2011
So, it's time for the requisite post-conference wrap-up. ASHE was in Charlotte this year, but ASHE is pretty much the same no matter where it is. It's always nice to catch up with colleagues from all over the country and to take a break from the usual round of work (although I did bring some grading with me). I went to quite a few good sessions - there were none on philanthropy - and picked up a couple of books. It's always rather invigorating.
It was my first conference as a faculty member rather than a student. I hadn't thought about that making any difference before I attended, but it sure beat telling everyone, "Yeah, I'm looking for a job," and having to summarize my dissertation again and again.
It was my first conference as a faculty member rather than a student. I hadn't thought about that making any difference before I attended, but it sure beat telling everyone, "Yeah, I'm looking for a job," and having to summarize my dissertation again and again.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Inwood Hill Park
I did something today I bet you thought you wouldn't see here again - I went hiking. Yeah, hiking in Manhattan hasn't been easy, and I've only been "real" hiking once. Part of it is the haul - the only unpaved trails longer than a mile in the city are in Staten Island, and it takes two hours to get there on public transit. But today I - well, I kind of hiked.
See, my definition of a "hike" is that it is unpaved. I do recognize exceptions for the occasional paved wheelchair-accessible and boardwalk trails (heck, I spent time building one back in Nashville), so already it's not a hard-and-fast standard, but generally greenways != trails. But that was before I visited Inwood Hill Park.
Inwood is the northern tip of Manhattan, and nearly all the trails are paved. On the northeast corner, where the ballfields are, it could be any city park. But once you get up into the hills, suddenly you're in an actual forest. An actual forest with giant trees:
No matter what the surface was, it felt like hiking, so I'm calling it hiking.
The park has a network of trails. I guess there's a map, but ignore it. The trails are too complicated and unsigned. At the same time, it's impossible to get lost. Just remember, the ballfields are at the north, the Henry Hudson toll road is on the west, and if it's flat, you're on the eastern strip. The middle of the park is, as advertised, a big hill, one that's impossible to get a photo of. You can get photos from the top, however:
Like any New York park, there are random, delightful moments that make you glad to live in this place:
As I got there, a middle-aged white d00d was perorating tiresomely about how this was a "classic symptom of OCD." Or maybe it was just a creative soul making a site-specific installation with the materials available at hand - outside outsider art.
At one point, a man with his son asked me if this was "the way to the secret staircase," and I had to tell him I had no idea. I had seen several staircases, and I didn't know which one was supposed to be secret. It could have been this one:
As wild as the park feels, there are reminders that you are in the city. There's the occasional view of Marble Hill and the Bronx, as well as the noise from the highway on the western side. Then there are things like this:
It's also my understanding that it's not a great place to be after dark, and I can see why. I turned a corner and saw a fabulous lamppost that would have made a great photo, but loitering under it were six teenage boys smoking pot. I couldn't care less about the marijuana, but they were a bit too "friendly" - probably in part defensive about being caught. I didn't stick around for the photograph.
But the park has almost everything. Vertical elevation: check. Woods: check. Water: check. Surprises: check. Fire rings: check. Caves: check. Wildlife:
Check. OK, no waterfalls, but I guess a park can't have everything.
See, my definition of a "hike" is that it is unpaved. I do recognize exceptions for the occasional paved wheelchair-accessible and boardwalk trails (heck, I spent time building one back in Nashville), so already it's not a hard-and-fast standard, but generally greenways != trails. But that was before I visited Inwood Hill Park.
Inwood is the northern tip of Manhattan, and nearly all the trails are paved. On the northeast corner, where the ballfields are, it could be any city park. But once you get up into the hills, suddenly you're in an actual forest. An actual forest with giant trees:
No matter what the surface was, it felt like hiking, so I'm calling it hiking.
The park has a network of trails. I guess there's a map, but ignore it. The trails are too complicated and unsigned. At the same time, it's impossible to get lost. Just remember, the ballfields are at the north, the Henry Hudson toll road is on the west, and if it's flat, you're on the eastern strip. The middle of the park is, as advertised, a big hill, one that's impossible to get a photo of. You can get photos from the top, however:
Like any New York park, there are random, delightful moments that make you glad to live in this place:
As I got there, a middle-aged white d00d was perorating tiresomely about how this was a "classic symptom of OCD." Or maybe it was just a creative soul making a site-specific installation with the materials available at hand - outside outsider art.
At one point, a man with his son asked me if this was "the way to the secret staircase," and I had to tell him I had no idea. I had seen several staircases, and I didn't know which one was supposed to be secret. It could have been this one:
As wild as the park feels, there are reminders that you are in the city. There's the occasional view of Marble Hill and the Bronx, as well as the noise from the highway on the western side. Then there are things like this:
It's also my understanding that it's not a great place to be after dark, and I can see why. I turned a corner and saw a fabulous lamppost that would have made a great photo, but loitering under it were six teenage boys smoking pot. I couldn't care less about the marijuana, but they were a bit too "friendly" - probably in part defensive about being caught. I didn't stick around for the photograph.
But the park has almost everything. Vertical elevation: check. Woods: check. Water: check. Surprises: check. Fire rings: check. Caves: check. Wildlife:
Check. OK, no waterfalls, but I guess a park can't have everything.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Batizado time
This weekend Grupo Capoeira Angola Palmares (New York) had training, a batizado, and a graduation. We had a mestre from Florianopolis in town as well as a contra-mestre and instructor from London, and students from Nashville, Baton Rouge, Denver, and Portland.
Technically, it's only a "baptism" for your first cord, and a "graduation" for the rest. So we trained all week long, and then on Saturday we held the baptism/graduation. Seven of us adults were earning our first cord, which was actually the second cord -dark green. Other people were graduating to dark green/dark yellow and other higher cords. A few students received their capoeira apelidos, and so now I have to get used to calling them by new names.
We learned a few new sequences, which included a few twists on moves I hadn't seen before. It was both inspiring and frustrating to be in a class with so many advanced students!
I also managed to string my berimbau for the first time. Then, later, I also managed to string it tight enough. Later that evening, my first arame snapped, so now I need to learn how to replace it.
My friends have departed for their homes, so it's nice not to have four people sleeping on my floor, but it's also sad that the training is over.
Technically, it's only a "baptism" for your first cord, and a "graduation" for the rest. So we trained all week long, and then on Saturday we held the baptism/graduation. Seven of us adults were earning our first cord, which was actually the second cord -dark green. Other people were graduating to dark green/dark yellow and other higher cords. A few students received their capoeira apelidos, and so now I have to get used to calling them by new names.
We learned a few new sequences, which included a few twists on moves I hadn't seen before. It was both inspiring and frustrating to be in a class with so many advanced students!
I also managed to string my berimbau for the first time. Then, later, I also managed to string it tight enough. Later that evening, my first arame snapped, so now I need to learn how to replace it.
My friends have departed for their homes, so it's nice not to have four people sleeping on my floor, but it's also sad that the training is over.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Getting from signifier to signified
It was a lesson I should have learned when my IT was giving me issues: The location of pain isn't necessarily the source of it.
And my first clue should have been my teachers telling me that I "ought" to be able to do things that I was finding impossible, like navasana or tucking up into handstand. I was strong enough, they said; it must be mind over matter.
No, the first clue was that my lower back starting hurting.
The second clue should have been that the recommended remedies, such as forward folds, didn't do anything for relief. Neither did "tucking my pelvis" to take the arch out of my back.
At least I picked up on one clue: My slouchy posture was indicative of … something.
It wasn't until I randomly did a side stretch one day and found it to be a near-miracle cure that I realized that my lower back wasn't actually the problem. Then there was "pull up in your chest," which did a lot more for my posture than any amount of tucking.
I still don't know their name. Is it my obliques? My intercostals? My lats? Does it matter? I just know that I'm retraining a set of muscles that have somehow gone to sleep on me.
They're improving. They still have a long way to go; I still can't tuck up into handstand. But the difference is amazing - even if the amount of muscle gained is small, knowing where to focus my efforts has improved my handstand notably. It's also helped with other things along the way. The other day, I managed to get into lotus while in tripod headstand. It wasn't elegant, but doing it without falling over should earn me a cookie anyway.
It's exciting to have a breakthrough like that, even though I think, "Why didn't I know this ages ago?" Also exciting: No back pain.
And my first clue should have been my teachers telling me that I "ought" to be able to do things that I was finding impossible, like navasana or tucking up into handstand. I was strong enough, they said; it must be mind over matter.
No, the first clue was that my lower back starting hurting.
The second clue should have been that the recommended remedies, such as forward folds, didn't do anything for relief. Neither did "tucking my pelvis" to take the arch out of my back.
At least I picked up on one clue: My slouchy posture was indicative of … something.
It wasn't until I randomly did a side stretch one day and found it to be a near-miracle cure that I realized that my lower back wasn't actually the problem. Then there was "pull up in your chest," which did a lot more for my posture than any amount of tucking.
I still don't know their name. Is it my obliques? My intercostals? My lats? Does it matter? I just know that I'm retraining a set of muscles that have somehow gone to sleep on me.
They're improving. They still have a long way to go; I still can't tuck up into handstand. But the difference is amazing - even if the amount of muscle gained is small, knowing where to focus my efforts has improved my handstand notably. It's also helped with other things along the way. The other day, I managed to get into lotus while in tripod headstand. It wasn't elegant, but doing it without falling over should earn me a cookie anyway.
It's exciting to have a breakthrough like that, even though I think, "Why didn't I know this ages ago?" Also exciting: No back pain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)