Cornell Native American Collection Website

My latest exhibition website:


nac.library.cornell.edu

Come see it for real in Kroch some time.

Publicity for Nabokov Website

My latest website for the library, Nabokov at Cornell: Celebrating Lolita's Fiftieth Anniversary, is now featured on Cornell's front page. Yay!



http://rmc.library.cornell.edu/lolita/

Interests Meme Results

Camping

I have loved camping since childhood. My family took several weekend trips each year, and I always had a great time. I'd lose myself by a secluded brook, building a dam out of rocks and mud, constructing tiny huts downstream out of sticks and leaves, and fabricating adventures for my world's tiny denizens. Of course, these adventures often involved the dam giving way, and destroying all in its path. Luckily I was a somewhat benevolent god, and always provided escape boats (blades of grass) for my little friends.

My brother and I would often go canoing for hours, exploring the remote banks of winding rivers, collecting strange-looking rocks and sticks, and capturing frogs and small fish, only to lose them all when one of us inevitably decided to tip over the canoe. Nothing has ever tasted better than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a cold glass of milk, devoured in the shade of a tree as I sat muddy, waterlogged, and blissfully weary from a day of adventuring outside.

I never did tire of the outdoors and with camping, even at the end of the day, I could remain there, falling asleep to a chorus of crickets and the wind in the trees. Nature has such a different rhythm than the world we've built on top of it. It is one that I will always prefer.

Creativity

I am frequently amazed at the beautiful things people create...how we can take our memories and experiences, and transform them through imagination and skill into something original. Other than kindness and humor, it is the trait I admire most in others and hope for in myself.

Fall

I love the fall. I relish the cool breeze against my face as it swirls the leaves upward around me and raises my eyes to a vision of the trees framing the azure sky with an explosion of fiery hues. It makes me feel alive, to witness the season when all is gathered in. To feel the weight of a coat on my shoulders again, remember the comfort of my body's own warmth, and reflect on where I've been and where I'm going. To know that for all things, there is a time to recede in grace, with a promise of returning from the memory of the earth.

Food

I enjoy food, perhaps more than I should. From the simple comfort of a bag of potato chips enjoyed in solitude, to an elaborate Thai feast shared with friends, I find such satisfaction indulging the pleasure that millions of years of evolution has engineered into our survival instinct.

Laughter

I don't really laugh that much. I tend to smirk, or smile instead. I'm not sure why. But once in awhile something will set me off...usually something juvenile, and god does it feel good to laugh until I can't breath. I think more than almost anything, sharing laughter is what makes people become friends.

Photography

I enjoy photography because it allows me to share with others an image I have found compelling or beautiful, and it reveals to me the visions that others have found worthy of sharing.

Sailing

One of my greatest passions. When I move across the water, powered by nothing but the wind, I start to feel like I'm a part of nature, instead of apart from it. It is perhaps the only application of technology that allows me to feel this way.

Stars

Whether I'm lying on a dock staring up at them, or contemplating the enormity of universe around me, I take great pleasure in being humbled by such a lovely and profound reminder of our own insignificance.

Water

My "element" of choice. I grew up swimming, sailing, canoing, and sloshing through streams, and water has always comforted me. Try floating on your back on a warm summer's eve, gazing up at the sky in a moment of weightlessness, wrapped in the embrace of a silent lake, and you'll see what I mean.

Writing

Writing allows me to construct things that I can't seem to articulate with thought or speech. It's a creative process that I enjoy very much, and I am always happy to discover something about myself that I didn't realize before I wrote it down. It is also a way for me to share parts of myself with others that would otherwise remain hidden behind a curtain of shyness. Some of my most satisfying days are those in which I discover new meaning through writing.

Fire and Ice...or Another Device?

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
But the supposition I most admire
is a transcending upload's demented desire.

But if I had to perish twice
I'd favor a nano-sized bringer of fate
An ever-dividing robotic device
could pile up grey goo 'til all life did abate.


www.nickbostrom.com/existential/risks.html

Stream of Consciousness

Cool water flowing
around my feet, overboard,
wind-blown current bliss.

Pale Company

When I have gone, my ashes strewn,
Across a lake of childhood dreams,
I'll stretch for miles through endless night,
Enshrouded by your silver beams.

There I will linger silently,
Alone in your pale company.

I'll shimmer in your haunting glow,
Beneath a veil of midnight air,
To soothe the hearts of those who stand
Upon my shore with pain to bear.

Your light will show the soul of me,
Revealed in your pale company.

Our vision will illuminate
A truth your lonely face has known,
To grant the minds that starve in woe
A harvest in your presence sewn.

The wisdom that we'll always be
As one in your pale company.

Winter's Wings

Shadows in the snow bend across an icy purity that veils the frozen ground. Black wings beat overhead to cut the bitter gray air and eclipse the thaw of the mid-day sun. The patches of darkness scurry across each sparkling drift with every stroke of shiny outstretched feather. They reminisce with broken corn stalks, to chill in jealousy the remnants of a better season. They stretch unto a lifeless tree, and coil about its hard bleached trunk, to reach upward and darken limbs, so much like leaves once did. And there cold talons grasp this cobalt twin, and drape it towards the ground, to wait silent and still in the endless wind.

Lesson #2

[Somerset, NJ - November 1975]

When we were young, my brother and I occasionally spent time with three of our male cousins. Our parents got along very well, and had a talent for getting somewhat tipsy and leaving us to our own devices. Age-wise, we covered five sequential years, leading to corruption from the knowledge of the older boys and shenanigans from the immaturity of the younger ones. In other words, we made a perfect band of rascals. What one of us wouldn't think of, another one would. So one day we decided to have a little stunt show. Our conversation went something like this:

"Let's do a pulley-run between two trees", someone suggested.

"Those trees over there look good", said Mark.

"They're too short," said Jeff. "What are you, a girl?"

"Hey, what about those?" exclaimed Rick, pointing to a pair of fifty-foot-tall birches.

"Yeah, those will work," said Chris, "but our rope isn't long enough."

"We've got a longer rope, it's just not as thick," I chimed in. "Think it will hold?"

"Of course," everyone said.

So we hooked everything up, tying the long thin rope between the tops of the swaying trees, fastening the rusty pulley to one side. We were just about ready to go.

"That end isn't high enough," mentioned Jeff, "You won't get any speed unless there's more slant to the rope."

"Maybe we should lower the other end."

"Sissy."

"Raise THAT end."

"Won't it break the tree?"

"Trees are strong, stupid."

We raised the one end. Now we were really ready to go.

"Who should go first?"

"Maybe Ken…he's the youngest…he's the lightest."

"Nah…somebody tougher should test it out."

"Rick is the oldest. He should do it."

"Ok, I'll do it. It better not break though," said Rick.

"It won't!" the rest of us exclaimed confidently.

So Rick climbed up to the top without hesitation, grabbed unto the pulley, and set out with gusto, flying down like a bat out of hell, or at least out of Somerset, New Jersey. The rope broke, of course, and so did the top of the tree. Rick plunged to the ground and landed flat on his ass with a resounding thud. Thankfully, he was alright. Jeff however, didn't fair so well, after he started laughing hysterically at his older brother's landing. In fact, Rick commenced beating the snot out of him, and the rest of us piled on quickly. I think we were interrupted by a distant call to dinner. It smelled like hot dogs, and those would hit the spot. We'd had a busy afternoon, after all.

Lesson: If it looks like it might break, it probably will. Any decision made by a group of more than two is suspect.

Lesson #1

[New Jersey - 1974]

I went to all sorts of interesting places as a child. You know…monuments, museums, amusement parks, and petting zoos. I remember one petting zoo especially well. They had the usual stuff: ponies, donkeys, chickens, rabbits, llamas, and baby goats. I really liked the baby goats. They were having a grand old time playing with each other, running around sideways, jumping way up into the air, and butting each other on the head as they made strange little goat noises. This looked like fun to me! So, being the type of kid that I was, I decided to try it myself. I'm sure that the baby didn't quite understand my intent when I first approached with a devilish grin and my head way down low. Goats are smart though, and he figured me out quickly. Too quickly in fact. In a lighting burst of super-ruminant speed, he reared up then butt full bore right into my head, knocking me flat on my ass. I can't remember if I was actually knocked unconscious or just slightly dumber after that. Those goats are serious about their play.

Lesson: Know your adversary's abilities before confronting them. Be wary of anything that looks cute but has horns.

The Past

[Bloomfield, NJ - Christmas 1971]

There was a time when nothing else mattered to me except what was happening in the moment. A time when I didn't worry about what I had done wrong yesterday, and I didn't waste my days waiting for tomorrow to come. This life is nothing more than a collection of moments - moments that will be anticipated or feared, cherished or endured, and celebrated or regretted.

I hope that this space will allow me to share some of my life's moments with you.