"Man on Wire"

When I saw the trailer for "Man on Wire", I recalled a vague tale of a French man who walked and danced on a tightrope between the two World Trade Center towers. The year was 1974, when Nixon resigned; in fact, he resigned a day after the incident. I never knew much more than that. So the trailer captured my attention immediately, and it held it in its grip.

We could watch the documentary for its marvelous feat alone, but today, especially for New Yorkers, many of us would bring to it our own awareness of the events of September 11. How does it affect our viewing? Does it make it harder to watch, or does it move us even more? Whichever the case, it's a glorious way to see the Twin Towers again, to imagine and feel the wonder and awe that filled onlookers, so vastly different from the horror that we experienced nearly seven years ago.

It makes you wonder too, could I live like that, right there on the edge?

Read Salon.com's interview with Philippe Petit.

Pensive

Today, I wish I could step into a place and have someone talk to me as gently as Charlotte Kendrick's bartender addresses a dejected customer. But it's hard to keep believing such a place exists.

Someone's Looking Out For You, by Charlotte Kendrick.

My brother's coming home!

I haven't seen him in two years. Makes me all nostalgic.

Dancing again

About two years ago, I wrote about Matt Harding, or the dancing guy, whose videos cheered me immensely. I hadn't watched them in a while, so it was a real delight when I found his website again and saw that he'd made another video.

Praan, by Garry Schyman (based on "Gitanjali " by Rabindranath Tagore)

"Stream of Life" ("Gitanjali") by Rabindranath Tagore

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.

And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

Here are the first two if you've never seen them before.

2005's:

2006's:

Day 15: Settling in

The first teaching practice two weeks ago didn't go very well. Last week's was much better, and I fooled the tutor into believing I was feeling confident. I got the students on task, made them stay on task, and achieved my teaching aims. Oh, joy!

The cold has gone, my throat feels normal once more (I'm even singing again), and I'm enjoying the afternoon input sessions during which we learn new teaching concepts and methods. My favorite so far is the one that focuses on the learner. Adult learners are unique; they come to the classroom with their experience, backgrounds, ideas about learning, a great desire to learn, and a maturity that, well, comes with age! Our guinea pig students are very sweet and I enjoy meeting them twice a week, even though I'm nervous every Thursday when I have to teach. I like studying them, figuring out ways to help them, understanding how their backgrounds and personalities inform their learning styles, and devising the right kind of tasks to help them learn.

The second assignment (I just handed in my first one today; it was on language analysis) requires me to pick a student, study her, interview her, and basically, have a field day writing a report about my chosen learner. By the end of the first lesson, I already knew which student I wanted. She's the oldest (late 60s to 70) learner in the class, but so very sweet and earnest. H. is from China, but spent some time in the US where she experienced culture shock and determined to learn English, which she taught herself 40 years ago. Just reading that in her short essay made me think, where was I at that point? Part of me was still an egg in my mother! And I think my parents just about met 40 years ago.

I've got about 7 more weeks to go before CELTA ends. It sure is hard work but I'm starting to get into the rhythm of CELTA life, and I like my teaching practice group members. One of them has already nicknamed me - Big V is my latest moniker (I've always enjoyed a spot of irony).

Beautiful Beat, by Nada Surf.

For fanboys (like me)

Hellboy hangs with geek du jour, Chuck.

Will you, won't you?

Going through my iTunes playlists is like reading my musical autobiography, especially when I actually have one that's titled "Soundtrack of my life." I was looking for Kermit's "The Rainbow Connection" when I came across the song, "I Will." When I was a teenager, I used to sing (or hum, if other people were around) the song a lot. It was written by that beloved songwriter, Paul McCartney, though the version I have isn't the original. Instead, it's by a famous musical pairing - Tuck and Patti. He plays guitar, she sings. (And if one needs to dwell on the race factor, well, he's white and she's black.)

People think it's a love song between a couple, but it isn't. It's about a person in your imagination, one you dream of meeting. It's also the one that chance shoves at you or sneakily offers up and then takes away - you could be walking down a street, racing to join the line for donuts, or searching for a book in your favorite bookstore, and right then, you pass the person you're meant to be with (if you believe in that kind of thing) without knowing it. It's altogether possible you'll meet the person later - properly, as in, you get to have a conversation - or never see him again. Fate is funny, and fickle. So songs like these make you feel better about it. It gives a nice shiny layer to something that could be potentially heartbreaking.

I Will, by Tuck and Patti.