Summer Arts Festival, 2012

No science post today — I’ll be taking a couple of weeks off my regular schedule the second half of July. Why? The Fairbanks Summer Arts Festival! I’ve signed up for creative writing again, and as usual I will more or less turn the blog over to the class. That means posts will mostly be about writing prompts and reading lists and much later than usual. (I usually set my posts to go live at 8 am ADT, but I won’t even get home to start writing the blog until after 5 pm for the next couple of weeks.) I hope some people will post their responses to those prompts as comments.

Six Sunday posts are already scheduled, as are quotation contexts on Wednesday. I’ll try to get ahead on Jarn’s Journal and pre-schedule that on Fridays, but no promises. Monday weather posts will be abbreviated and missing entirely July 30, but I’ll probably have things to say about the daily weather as it affects the SAF.

What is the Summer Arts Festival? It started out as a jazz festival, and has grown over the years with the addition of more and more types of 2-week classes. This year the broad divisions are music, visual arts, dance, healing arts, literary arts, and culinary arts, with numerous classes in each. Most are only an hour or two a day, and people come from all over the world, as well as Fairbanks, both to teach and to take classes. Numerous concerts and recitals are scheduled, including “Lunch Bites,” a sack lunch with short performances by Festival students and faculty. I’ll probably do a short reading.

The class I’ll be taking, creative writing, has four guest faculty: two back from previous years and two new.

Peggy Shumaker is the Alaskan Poet Laureate and basically created the creative writing program in the Summer Arts festival. She’ll probably have me trying my hand at poetry (again) so if you see an occasional poem here, you can thank Peggy.

Jeanne Clark has also been part of the Festival for several years. She’s from California State University at Chico, and generally has us writing poems, too. Jeanne also rescues Border Collies (another of my loves.)

Rob Davidson is new to me, but I suspect Jeanne recruited him as he’s also from California State College at Chico.  He’s recently published a book of short stories, The Farther Shore. He’ll probably be teaching fiction writing, though he has also published nonfiction.

Daryl Farmer is also new to me, though he teaches at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. He teaches creative nonfiction writing.

It looks like it’s going to be an interesting two weeks.

Jarn’s Journal Year 3 Day 90

Once, a long time ago, a R’il’nian I knew was killed (carelessness in a chemical laboratory) and left her body behind. I knew her well enough to attend her funeral, where we took turns remembering things about her. Finally we spoke the ritual words together: “Take the goodness and joy of your life with you as you go before, and let all sorrow and evil be consumed with your body in the furnace from which it came.” Then we joined together in teleporting her body into the sun.

More often, of course, people just gradually disappeared, as I no doubt have to my friends. We grow tired of life, and careless, or we think too highly of our abilities to take care when care is needed, as I did. We leave no bodies behind. But we do not simply wear out, like objects and animals.

These people are not objects or animals. They are people. They think. They dream – perhaps more than I do. They create and feel beauty. But they wear out.

How can this be?

Yet there is no doubt Storm Cloud is wearing out. She asked me to stay, to watch over her people. She sleeps now, or did when I left her. I do not think she will awaken from this sleep.

Jarn’s Journal to date is on my author site.

Trying to Photograph a Horse Show

As anyone who’s read my books knows, I like horses. The sports I’ve competed in involve horses or dogs. Not that I was a real competitor; my coordination has never been good – but I do know a bit about horses. At one time, I rode in jumping and dressage classes. And when I get a chance, I still go to horse shows.

Mostly as a spectator and would-be photographer, these days. Once I was pretty good at catching horses over jumps with my Nikon. It actually took pictures when you pressed the button. My digital camera doesn’t.

Oh, it has a “burst” mode, for taking photos in rapid succession, but that’s not good enough to catch a horse over a jump without a lot of luck. One of my burst mode sequences is shown below, so you can see the time lag between the images.

Still, the show provided plenty of opportunities. For one thing, it was the “Jammies Jamboree” – the riders were supposed to wear pajamas. (G-rated.) And since it was to benefit the Breast Cancer Detection Center of Alaska, many of the horses were decorated appropriately.

Pairs class. The idea is to have the horses take the jumps together.

I did get a few shots that actually caught horses over the jumps, rather than landing or taking off. Most of the jumps were pretty low, compared with what I remembered. (I have to admit that while my horse Challenge could have jumped anything in the show, I probably would not have gone over the jumps with him. I generally got a better rider to handle him in classes with impressive jumps.)

Look, Ma, no reins! This horses in the bridleless class mostly had headstalls, but no reins were attached.

The winner of one of the toughest classes was riding bareback.

And I actually got to ride! Granted it was a lead-line teddy bear race (the horse was strange to me and I have no sense of balance these days) but I just might start riding again. If I can find a somewhat narrower horse, that is!

Sport, who was kind enough to take me in the teddy bear race. He’s a big horse, and I don’t just mean wide!

Quotes from Ann McCaffrey

The first six quotes are from The Masterharper of Pern, by Anne McCaffrey. All of these quotes were tweeted from @sueannbowling over the last week.

“Learn to take honest praise with the same dignity with which you’ve received criticism.” Masterharper Gennell to Robinton, as he is deciding where to send him for his first assignment as a Journeyman.

“Let’s not borrow trouble until it comes our way.” Lobirn, when Robinton is his journeyman and Fax is still merely a holder.

“Knowledge had a way of penetrating any barriers set to exclude it.” Robinton is hoping that parents will pass their knowledge to their children in Fax’s hold, since Fax will not allow the harpers to educate them.

“A wall has two sides, my friends.”  Robinton, mediating a dispute over who should rebuild a broken wall.

“If you believe in anything—anything—keep that faith. ” Masterharper Minnarden talking to Robinton, about Robinton’s (and his) belief that Thread will fall again.

“Got yourself in, get yourself out.” Robinton’s chant as he tries to sail his and Kassia’s honeymoon sloop to safety.

“Lions don’t climb trees.” Roi’s frantic thought as he is attacked by a puma (which he has never seen before) from a tree branch. Bowling, Tourist Trap.

Opera Fairbanks Concert

One of the things I really miss is concerts. Oh, I go to the Fairbanks Symphony concerts when I can, but I can’t drive in the dark (which is most of the day here in winter) and their concerts are all in the winter. So when the Opera Fairbanks orchestra offered a free concert last Thursday, I jumped at the chance to go at a time of year when I can drive. Especially since they were performing a piece by one of my favorite composers, the Mahler Symphony number 4.

I am not a music critic, and do not pretend to be. I did at one time play the trombone in youth symphonies, though I didn’t have the time once I was in college. Because of this, I was particularly interested to see that the program included a trombone concerto, a relative rarity. The remainder was Mozart, the overture from The Abduction from the Seraglio, and J. S. Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in C Minor.

Having played the trombone, I have to say I was a little disappointed in the Concert in e flat for Trombone and Orchestra, by Ferdinand David. Not that I could have played it; Mr. Becigo is a far better trombone player than I ever was. But knowing the instrument, I was considerably more critical of tone and intonation than most, and I have to say that his tone was not as good as it could have been. That said, it was nevertheless a good performance of a difficult piece.

The Mozart and Bach pieces were well played, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. But the piece de resistance was the Mahler.

It’s a long piece, around an hour, with a beautiful soprano solo in the fourth movement. Jamie-Rose Guarrine sang the solo, and – well, I can’t say the solo alone was worth the price of admission, since the concert was free. But it would have been worth the price of admission to a normal symphony concert, and then some.

Opera Fairbanks is putting on La Boheme next Thursday, and I am certainly planning to go. I trust they’ll forgive me for scanning their advertising posters! The Run of the Valkyries, a fund-raiser for Opera Fairbanks, I’ll have to skip.

North Pole Weather 7/9/12

The sun rose at 3:35 this morning and will set at 12:15 tomorrow morning for 20 hours 40 minutes of daylight. We’re now losing about 6 minutes a day, and while the sun is still more than 45° above the horizon at noon, it’s dropping lower by about a tenth of a degree per day. It’s still generally warm by our standards (high 70’s) though we had a couple of days last week that didn’t quite make 70. No heavy rain, but quite a few light showers.

Two bean beds, and you can just see the peas climbing the trellis in the background.

The garden has gone from each bean and strawberry being a cause for celebration to wondering how I can keep up with it without turning vegetarian. I picked a zucchini yesterday that was over a foot long and weighed well over a pound. Thanks to the rapid growth our long days promote, it was still tender and tasty. But it is clear that I have to start checking the squash plants daily—they are already starting to shade out the lettuce in the holes around them. Peas have finally started blooming, and have shot up to the point that I need to raise the pea fence.

The squash is about to shade out the lettuce.

The delphiniums are now topping the 7’ lattice, and the first flowers are open. Still no flowers on the lilies or lynchis, but the buds have appeared on the lynchis, and two varieties of rugosa roses are in bloom. I wish sometimes that the Summer Arts Festival were sometime other than summer, but I’ve signed up again for the creative writing class. I think I’m going to have to find some neighbors who would like produce!

Six Sentence Sundays

Coralie was on a spaceship with her baby, but she suddenly finds herself in dense jungle on the surface of a strange planet. She has just heard the pilot’s voice and answered, and his reply is “Are you all right?” This is from the third volume of a trilogy I’m working on, with a working title of “War’s End.” The war may be over, but the complications aren’t!

“Yes.  Are the others?”

“I am,” came Audi’s voice, “though I seem to have dropped the diapers.  Where are you?  I can’t tell what direction your voice is coming from.”

“Neither can I.”

That last voice is Ginger’s, by the way. She hasn’t been in the bits I’m posting from this book, yet, but she was on the ship. Think I should try to publish this?

Have a look at the other participants on Six Sentence Sunday — click on the logo to find them.

How Long is your Night?

Finding varieties of spinach and beets that won’t bolt. Watching the leaves turn color, even when there hasn’t yet been a frost. Trying to get last year’s Christmas cactus or poinsettia to bloom. Solving the mystery of who spilled the perfume in the meteorology lab. What do they have in common? The answer is a phenomenon called photoperiodism, which helps plants keep track of when it’s time to bloom.

Night Blooming Jasmine, right, and Kalanchoe, left.

Many plants seem to “know” how long the day is. Depending on the variety, they may refuse to bloom unless the length of day is to their liking. For varieties bred at lower latitudes, this may pose problems for Alaskans, since plants such as spinach and beets often take our long summer days as a signal that they must bloom at once rather than grow the leaves and roots we want. Similar problems arise in late summer with imported perennials, shrubs, and trees, which refuse to prepare for winter dormancy while the days are still as long as they are here in early September. But how do eyeless, clockless, plants know how long the day is?

The answer is found in a chemical, called phytochrome, produced by plants. Phytochrome changes form when red light shines on it, and slowly changes back to its original form when it is in the dark. The plant “counts” the hours of darkness by how much of the phytochrome has changed back to its dark form before it is changed again by light. The chemical’s reaction to light is very fast, so that even a short burst of light may turn all the plant’s phytochrome back to the light form, and the plant will start all over again timing how long the night is. So a plant that blooms when days are long, like spinach, is really responding to short nights, while winter-blooming plants such as poinsettias, kalanchoes, and Christmas cactus are responding to long nights. A single minute of light in the middle of the dark period is enough to “reset the clock” in some of these plants and make them think they have had two short nights (long days) instead of one long one.

Some long-night plants will bloom just as well if they are given cold nights. Many Christmas cactus are in this group. Others, like kalanchoes, will only be satisfied with long, uninterrupted, nights, which may be difficult to supply in our lighted homes. A trick that works with soybeans (and might work with winter-blooming house plants) is to place a black envelope over a single leaf near the growing point for 16 hours a day. The covered leaf makes enough of the night form of phytochrome to convince the whole plant that winter has come. If you try this with a poinsettia or kalanchoe, let me know if it works.

Some plants are even trickier in their requirements, and one of these led to the “spilled perfume” mystery. I had a night-blooming jasmine in the meteorology lab that blooms on long nights when they follow short nights. It normally has a major burst of bloom in October or November, but if someone comes in during a winter night and turns on the lights just once, that single pair of “short nights” convinces it that another summer has gone by and it blooms again about 6 weeks afterwards. The flowers are inconspicuous but have a powerful jasmine odor when they open at night. When it bloomed last year, nobody thought to mention to me that they were puzzled by the odor. It took several days before anyone could figure out where the perfume was coming from!

Author’s note: this post is recycled from one that was on the Alaska Science Forum when I was writing it in the late 80’s. I’m having a busy weekend — concert, horse show, public reading and writers’ group, and I just didn’t have time to write a new science article..

Jarn’s Journal Year 3 Day 74

Year 3 Day 74

These people age.

I know it, but I keep forgetting it. Animals age. My people don’t, but these People who have come to be so important to me age and die of that aging.

I knew Storm Cloud was old – her teeth are worn to stumps, her skin is wrinkled, and she moves with increasing difficulty, but somehow I didn’t realize she might be approaching her end. Until now.

Something has gone wrong in her brain, probably a blocked blood vessel. Her speech has become labored and slurred, and she cannot seem to move her left side. Songbird was sure I could help, but this is something quite different from setting a broken bone or fighting infection. I am no Healer, and I think even a Healer might not be able to help her beyond clearing the blockage.

There is no way she can continue to travel. Her clan recognizes that, and she and the rest of the shamans have already named her successor: one of her sons, Rain Cloud.

Even in this last illness she takes thought for her clan. Songbird, though still a child to me, has become a woman by their reckoning, and has a definite partiality for Giraffe, of Dust Devil’s group. He’s a few years older than she is, but a good lad, from what I can see, and fond of her. Storm Cloud has arranged with Dust Devil that Giraffe (who promises to live up to his namesake in height) will travel next year with Rain Cloud’s group.

I don’t think Storm Cloud expects to live until they leave.

Salpiglossis (Painted Tongue)

I don’t know why salpiglossis isn’t more widely used. It’s easy to transplant, blooms freely, and comes in a medley of rich colors. In shape it is an embossed trumpet, with the embossing being most noticeable in the yellow and chocolate colors, which are nearly self-color. Red, purple and blue have more veining, and the color variations tend to overwhelm the embossing. I can generally find it at one local greenhouse, and this year they had it in a new color, Kew Blue, but I can’t seem to find the more exotic colors.

Of course here in Alaska it tends to be relatively cool in the summer, which is something it likes. Wikipedia says it comes from southern Chile, which can be quite cool. Think Tierra del Fuego!

It’s one of the few flowers to have all three primary colors: red, blue and yellow. The flowers are funnel-shaped and fairly large. I use it in boxes and in the holes of my raised beds. I’ve tried bringing it in for the winter, but it does not do well indoors. Whether it’s because the humidity is too low or there’s not enough light I’m not sure.

At any rate I have to admit this post is mostly an excuse to show pictures!