Still Pretty Damn Kinetic, Still Pretty Damn Kensington

Maybe you did fool the Philadelphia, rag the Rochester, josh the Joliet.  But you never did the Kensington kid.  You?  Never!  Did the Kensignton kid?*

Come with me, if you will, back into my time machine to the year 2010 where we are still a blissful year from Judgement Day and enjoying some kinetic sculpture ("sculpture").

I have to assume these guys totally envisioned how it would look to drag "Real Healthcare Reform" and "Single Payer Insurance" through the muck (of partisan politics? of powerful lobbyists?  of OMFG SOCIALIST!! scaremongering?)- its just too apt.  Although their analogy kinda falls apart when the guy labelled "insurance company" tries to help.

And how is that coulrophobia coming along?

*Big ups to anyone who gets this reference (no google, dammit!).  Boyfriend is excluded because ostensibly he pays attention to what I read.

Kinetic in Kensington

Photos from the Kensington Kinetic Sculpture Derby, which was last weekend.  Wait, you say, I was at the derby and/or in the vicinity of Philadelphia last Saturday and the weather was ridiculously awesome with nary a hint of cloud, let alone drizzle- there must be shenanigans happening here!  You'd be right.  I could not attend this year's iteration, so I humbly substitute these never-before-seen-because-I'm-lazy shots from the 2010 edition.  Paste on some blue sky, and I'm pretty sure no one would know the difference...there is a lot of beer floating around at that event.

Gilded Age

Swayambhunath, Kathmandu, Nepal.

Freude trinken alle Wesen: A five-year debt paid!

Today I saw the Chapter Eleven Players (or, the Philadelphia Orchestra) play Beethoven's Ninth.

(That's right its another mountain picture.  The very one from my banner, no less, and in a post that's not even about mountains.  But I think you can see the connection, definitely in my mind, but also objectively, between mountains, Beethoven, and the Ninth.)

It is difficult for me to convey exactly how much I love this piece of music.  Its approaching Clockwork-Alex levels of visceral response, but that brings in...uh, understatement of the century...unpleasant connotations that I don't want.  Anyway.  In discussions of classical music, my Dad is often getting after me for ranking Beethoven above Bach in the tally of the Grand Three.  And I grant him his argument- Bach, as does Mozart, makes exceptional music; beautiful, memorable, and skilled-beyond-par.  But there is something about Beethoven that just socks me right in the gut (in a good way, of course)- his music is evocative, from the inspirational power of the symphonies to the wistful piano sonatas (the second movement of the Pathetique gets me every. time.), Beethoven plows into my neurons and knocks their socks off.

And the Ninth pretty much exemplifies the whole range- I've got goosebumps from the first murmurings of those strings in the first movement and a stupid grin plastered on my face from the first hint of the Ode to Joy theme in the fourth.  Its interesting (string recitatives?  second movement scherzo? dissonant instrumental rejection of prior themes?), its memorable, it has an explicit enlightenment, humanist message (brotherly love, doncha know) and its just...happy.  Joyful, even. 

But back to that "debt" thing from the header.  You see, I tried to see this once before.  Well, technically I did see it, but it wasn't the experience I hoped for.  Five years ago, the PhilOrch played this at the Mann Center, our outdoor grass-seating amphitheater, and it was going to be the perfect first viewing of the Ninth live- romantic picnic, fireworks, summer air, a view of the city.  Just perfect.  But boyfriend dawdled after his training ride and failed to meet me there before the gates closed.  I sat through the whole performance and the fireworks, alone with a picnic, lonely and fuming, surrounded by happy couples and families.  Boyfriend lurked somewhere outside the fence.  Ever since, boyfriend has owed me the Ninth.  We even debated driving up to NYC.  But this year our poor, sad, broke orchestra put it in their season and it was just as incredible as I hoped it would be.  Boyfriend- your debt is officially paid.

The Bleakest Park in the World

Nothing says come play in me like crumbling cement umbrellas, numerous trash piles (some still burning!) being picked over by crows, stray dogs, not a single child or recreationing human, and copious large-particulate smog.  Oh, and just off-screen is a metal slide with a large, jagged gash down the middle and a rough, rough dump-out of a landing.  Boyfriend went down it.  No tetanus or blood, but he did get really dirty which is a bigger problem than you think in a city without trustworthy water.

I always feel like a need to include a disclaimer in posts like this to aver that I'm not "judging" a country like Nepal for not having the resources for municipal upkeep, but its not like American (or European) cities have anything like pristine infrastructure.  Its flashy and politically beneficial to build it, but maintaining it?  Shit, that's for pinko commies. 

Crater Lake...so close, yet so far.

This image infuriates me.  I feel like it is so close to being really compelling, but there is something off compositionally.  Have made many assaults on it in photoshop, trying to punch up this area or that, or alter the exposure, the contrast, the saturation, etc but to no avail.  It just ends up losing the dreamy, ethereal quality of the raw image without gaining any *pop*.  So I give up- I send this thing out into the world in its untouched state, good but not great.

As far as the scene itself- man, it was beautiful.  This mist was just tumbling down off the southwest rim and the lake itself was a frigid, steely blue and everything had a thick coating of hoarfrost that sparkled in the sun...even the snowshoeing couldn't detract. 

Joy.

Mani stone and an unnamed peak in Dole, Nepal.  This was the first day (our sixth on the trail, 11th in the country) that the lingering monsoon lifted enough for me to actually see mountains.  I woke up around just before 5am, saw not-clouds, and busted right out of bed with my camera and down jacket.  And it was beautiful.