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Today's subject line comes from Jennifer Grotz's poem "Boy Playing Violin," which depicts a duel between two buskers -- one, the boy of the title, and the other a puppeteer with, among other props, "a Tina Turner puppet / with little silver high heels and a bona fide snarl." Grotz describes their audience, which includes tourists and lovers and poetry, the last the beautiful woman of my subject line.
Grotz read the poem aloud Thursday night at Vanderbilt. It was a fun evening: I met up with Joanne for crispy tofu and eggplant beforehand, and it had been so long since we'd seen each other that we just kept talking and talking. In fact, we would have missed the start of the reading if my friend William hadn't called out to us from the bookstore table.
The corridor of Buttrick Hall just outside Room 101 is pretty cool -- it's decorated with prints of ferns from mid-20th-century engravings, as well as several stanzas from an Emily Dickinson poem in raised type.
Today I went to Cheekwood, where Save Our American Raptors was giving a presentation. The birds in the demonstrations included Tebow, a barred owl (not named after the QB); Theodore, a barn owl; Cody, a red-tailed hawk; Casey, a black vulture; and Alta (sp?), a bald eagle. The handlers described the vulture as "the most intelligent bird we work with -- it frequently outsmarts us." It was very funny watching it hop around the room (both it and Theodore displayed some independence from the script -- Theodore felt like flying where he wanted to, and Casey kept hopping off the handlers' arms and perches. I was sitting on the floor, and it was awfully, awfully cool hearing the whoosh of wings just a few inches from my head during the fly-bys.
(I was tempted to get in line to pet the owls afterward.)
(Note to Nashville folks: the program will be at Cheekwood again on Oct. 20. Be warned that parking on Saturdays can be a total zoo, so allow plenty of time for finding a space and walking from there to the auditorium.)
Grotz read the poem aloud Thursday night at Vanderbilt. It was a fun evening: I met up with Joanne for crispy tofu and eggplant beforehand, and it had been so long since we'd seen each other that we just kept talking and talking. In fact, we would have missed the start of the reading if my friend William hadn't called out to us from the bookstore table.
The corridor of Buttrick Hall just outside Room 101 is pretty cool -- it's decorated with prints of ferns from mid-20th-century engravings, as well as several stanzas from an Emily Dickinson poem in raised type.
Today I went to Cheekwood, where Save Our American Raptors was giving a presentation. The birds in the demonstrations included Tebow, a barred owl (not named after the QB); Theodore, a barn owl; Cody, a red-tailed hawk; Casey, a black vulture; and Alta (sp?), a bald eagle. The handlers described the vulture as "the most intelligent bird we work with -- it frequently outsmarts us." It was very funny watching it hop around the room (both it and Theodore displayed some independence from the script -- Theodore felt like flying where he wanted to, and Casey kept hopping off the handlers' arms and perches. I was sitting on the floor, and it was awfully, awfully cool hearing the whoosh of wings just a few inches from my head during the fly-bys.
(I was tempted to get in line to pet the owls afterward.)
(Note to Nashville folks: the program will be at Cheekwood again on Oct. 20. Be warned that parking on Saturdays can be a total zoo, so allow plenty of time for finding a space and walking from there to the auditorium.)
