OVFF post for real this time.
Oct. 27th, 2006 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catsittingstillHa—I knew someone here could help me! Thanks Almeda, Kitzani and Occams_pyramid for assistance with posting without causing my friends f-lists to go up in flames.
I went to OVFF last weekend. It was great! Short version: Pegasus Concert—wow! Judi Miller –squee! Much good music, too little sleep, wrote song, received mimmoth, mind starts to blur…
The Pegasus Concert knocked my socks off. Thanks Erica! When bedlamhouse stood up after the Torch Song category and said something like “I can’t make up my mind; can we hear that category again?” I was hoping Erica would say “yes.” I’m honored that “No Quarter” was nominated, but it was, well, probably the weakest member of its category. My arrangement of it went just fine (aside from the occasional muffed chord, but nobody let on that they noticed). My poor uncalloused fingers are beginning to recover (I’d set the mando aside for months on account of a pinched nerve in my neck. Something about wearing the mando makes my hand start tingling.)
Judi signed for the whole Pegasus concert and for many of the concerts on Saturday. I’m starting to understand whole lines as she signs them. To the point where, when she mis-hears the lyrics, I can sometimes tell what she thought she heard. I have a hard time understanding because living ASL is much more variable and makes much more use of signing in space than the ASL one sees in books, but I am starting to get the hang of it a little bit. I’m very psyched about that and want more practice.
Also Friday night I got a few minutes to speak with Judi about a lullaby that I wrote at FilkOntario to sing and sign simultaneously that I never got a chance to do for her there. She was very helpful both with tweaking the sign language for better intelligibility and with alternate signs that can be made with one hand so I can keep holding the imaginary baby. She showed me the cutest translation for “my love”--instead of signing “my” (flat hand, palm in, on chest) and love (crossed fists, palms in, on chest (as if clutching something precious to one’s heart)), she suggested a one handed sign with the fingertips of the flat hand touching the chin, dropping to a closed fist (S hand), palm in, over the heart, which is precisely the kind of thing one would use to a little baby in one’s passive arm. I need to practice the changes, but I think they really improve the song.
I staggered off to bed after that.
Saturday there were concerts and I made it to part of one workshop, with boomwhackers. Boomwhackers have potential. Had to leave early to get to a concert. Don’t remember if I got there or not. Somehow I always end up wishing I could have gone to more stuff, but now it all blurs together in my mind. They were great—and once I review what’s in my mp3 recorder, I’ll remember what happened J
I took a new song to the con that I don’t think I’ve posted yet. I’ll include the lyrics here:
Patience isn’t Tame
By Cat Faber
Patience is my new canoe; she dances o'er the foam.
In truth, she is the swiftest thing I've ever paddled home
She's strong and fair and spirited: for all adventures game.
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
Patience isn't tame, my lads,
Thank you all the same, my lads!
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
With bungees in the thwarts to hold my coat when it might rain,
And tie-downs in the bilges floating luggage to retain
She's perfect in most every way, except one minor claim:
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
A trout, a gull, a thoroughbred, she's long and lean and sleek
Unsuited to the faint of heart whose swimming skills are weak
If you come home sopping wet you've got yourself to blame;
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
Handle her respectfully; beware her boatish wrath;
One wrong move and she'll decide it's time you had a bath!
Other boats are couch potatoes; she's a spunky dame.
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
It got a good response from the folks at the con—they laughed at the right places (though the song really should have included more pause between lyrics to let people laugh and still hear the song—I’ve noticed that when laughing means missing part of the lyric even the most appreciative audience will muffle their laughter. And dang it, I’m working for that laugh; I want to hear it. I need to take that into consideration more in the future), and clapped afterwards.
The Pegasus Banquet had pretty good food, but no dessert. Perhaps it’s just as well for my weight that there was no dessert, as my self-control drops when I don’t get enough sleep. I started a new song at the banquet, before the winners were announced, which turned out to be most fortunate later.
I was very pleased when Judi Miller won Best Performer (because she’s just generally cool, and because I think she has enlarged our ideas of what a filk performance can be) and again when “Girl That’s Never Been” won Best Filk Song (not that any of the other categories had unsatisfying entries or wins, but Vixy and Judy make me go squee).
After the banquet, I frantically struggled to finish my new song, pulled out a preliminary version in the Saturday circle (I ended up in a small circle in Metro; I like smaller circles better generally, and when I wandered over to check the other circle on a potty break, there were cool people there like Mary Crowell and Vixy and Tony, but they were packed in three deep and I just didn’t have the energy to deal), where I taught people the chorus and swore them to secrecy. I got to hear Peteralway at that circle, and another woman with a mando, whose name I forget but whose music I will remember, and more good performances that have slithered out of the steel trap of my memory (it catches only one thing—but that thing stays caught). I tire easily and left for bed about 1:30 a.m. I probably missed something neat. Indeed, that’s a fear that follows me around cons—that I’m missing something neat.
I cornered Quadrivium in the hall on Sunday, I think, to show her the new song and explain that I’d really like to perform it publicly at some suitable time before the con closed. So she stepped in at the start of the Farewell jam and explained that I had a special song, and summoned Judi to the stage to sign for it. I hadn’t counted on putting Judi on the spot that way, but when I glanced over in the middle of the song she was beaming and signing away, so I decided that was okay.
The Second Voice
By Cat Faber 2006
Dedicated to Judi Miller.
(chorus)
Judi makes us laugh;Judi makes us cry--
Her face is bright and her hands are light, and we love to watch them fly.
Songs take shape and form, and from her stance they shine
And the lyrics feel more alive and real as she echoes them in Sign.
I start to understand and never wonder why
As the sweet songs play while she lights their way like a fire that draws the eye.
The music draws us in and binds us tighter yet
As the music stands with her body’s dance in a dual-tongued duet.
Judi's smart and strong; Judi's sweet and bold
A mirror true, with a different view of the story being told
Chameleon and Queen of all the actor’s art
She shows her stuff leaving space enough for imagination’s part!
When we were done she hugged me. Until finally somebody said “Turn around Judi; we’re getting tired,” and we looked up and the whole audience was “applauding” by fluttering their hands in the air, the way people do in Sign. It was so cool. This is one of the things I like about filk; sometimes there’s a Moment. Sometimes I even get to be nearby
Plus some kind soul (I blush to admit her name has slithered out of the steel trap of my mind) saw I was wearing a Girl Genius badge holder and gave me a little stuffed Mimmoth on Saturday. (It’s a beanie baby elephant, actually, but it looks just like the mimmoths (miniature mammoths) that appear in Girl Genius and are apparently pests on the order of mice or rats, and are occasionally seen doing something amusing in the background of a shot while the main characters are talking. I spent much of the weekend carrying it around in my badge holder or shirt pocket and explaining that the pestiferous little beast had crawled into my bag when I wasn’t looking and I didn’t want it to get away since it would just get into the walls and breed, and I was going to break its verminous little neck as soon as I found the appropriate place to dispose of its biohazardous corpse. While gently petting it. On the way home I started writing a song. I was going to post it here, but have changed my mind. 1) it’s not quite finished and 2) much of the impact may be in the surprise value. So it will have to wait for GaFilk.
I stayed over Monday morning so I could stay for the dead dog filk Sunday night, and I’m glad I did. The filk was so big it split into two parts—I ended up in the one in the consuite by default, because it was the one I found first while it was just starting to condense. That was where I got to hear Becca and Graham sing together, and I heard Urban Tapestry sing a silly song about Paul Kwin. They really do comic stuff very well; somehow I hadn’t noticed the way they can turn their excellent timing and teamwork to humor before. Also I asked Vixy if she had any of Blake’s new stuff and she sang “Penelope’s Loom.” Blake and his wife Jen did a beautiful job on that one—I cried when Vixy got to the line about weeping as she unravels the pictures of hope. At one point I stepped out for a potty break, glanced into another room that had a circle, decided it was too big a circle for me, and besides, I wanted to hear more from the people I was with, as my small Saturday circle hadn’t had them in it, and went back to the consuite.
I thought almeda’s post about circle dynamics was fascinating, and it made me realize how important circle size is to me. I’m normally drawn to Class II (big enough not to collapse if someone leaves, small enough to get to sing often) circles myself. (Well, my ideal would be a non-accreting class III, but I don’t see any way to swing that.) Class IV (big enough it probably needs moderation) is usually okay. Class Is are intimidating, but okay as long as they grow to Class II within a reasonable amount of time. I had a horrible experience in a Class V (two hours to go around) circle a long time ago, and have avoided large circles ever since.
I wonder if it would be possible to prearrange with heavies (people who attract filkers to a circle) to seed several Class II circles and see what happens. Would they stay Class II? Would it be like soap bubbles—one would become Class IV and swallow the others? Maybe have heavies sign up in threes and and fives to seed/host circles in different rooms? Of course that runs into questions of who decides who’s a heavy and will my feelings be hurt if I’m not picked, and what if nobody comes to my circle, and maybe it’s just easier not to open that can of worms. But I wonder.
Thanks OVFF, for a wonderful time! Thanks Almeda, for a thought-provoking post.
I went to OVFF last weekend. It was great! Short version: Pegasus Concert—wow! Judi Miller –squee! Much good music, too little sleep, wrote song, received mimmoth, mind starts to blur…
The Pegasus Concert knocked my socks off. Thanks Erica! When bedlamhouse stood up after the Torch Song category and said something like “I can’t make up my mind; can we hear that category again?” I was hoping Erica would say “yes.” I’m honored that “No Quarter” was nominated, but it was, well, probably the weakest member of its category. My arrangement of it went just fine (aside from the occasional muffed chord, but nobody let on that they noticed). My poor uncalloused fingers are beginning to recover (I’d set the mando aside for months on account of a pinched nerve in my neck. Something about wearing the mando makes my hand start tingling.)
Judi signed for the whole Pegasus concert and for many of the concerts on Saturday. I’m starting to understand whole lines as she signs them. To the point where, when she mis-hears the lyrics, I can sometimes tell what she thought she heard. I have a hard time understanding because living ASL is much more variable and makes much more use of signing in space than the ASL one sees in books, but I am starting to get the hang of it a little bit. I’m very psyched about that and want more practice.
Also Friday night I got a few minutes to speak with Judi about a lullaby that I wrote at FilkOntario to sing and sign simultaneously that I never got a chance to do for her there. She was very helpful both with tweaking the sign language for better intelligibility and with alternate signs that can be made with one hand so I can keep holding the imaginary baby. She showed me the cutest translation for “my love”--instead of signing “my” (flat hand, palm in, on chest) and love (crossed fists, palms in, on chest (as if clutching something precious to one’s heart)), she suggested a one handed sign with the fingertips of the flat hand touching the chin, dropping to a closed fist (S hand), palm in, over the heart, which is precisely the kind of thing one would use to a little baby in one’s passive arm. I need to practice the changes, but I think they really improve the song.
I staggered off to bed after that.
Saturday there were concerts and I made it to part of one workshop, with boomwhackers. Boomwhackers have potential. Had to leave early to get to a concert. Don’t remember if I got there or not. Somehow I always end up wishing I could have gone to more stuff, but now it all blurs together in my mind. They were great—and once I review what’s in my mp3 recorder, I’ll remember what happened J
I took a new song to the con that I don’t think I’ve posted yet. I’ll include the lyrics here:
Patience isn’t Tame
By Cat Faber
Patience is my new canoe; she dances o'er the foam.
In truth, she is the swiftest thing I've ever paddled home
She's strong and fair and spirited: for all adventures game.
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
Patience isn't tame, my lads,
Thank you all the same, my lads!
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
With bungees in the thwarts to hold my coat when it might rain,
And tie-downs in the bilges floating luggage to retain
She's perfect in most every way, except one minor claim:
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
A trout, a gull, a thoroughbred, she's long and lean and sleek
Unsuited to the faint of heart whose swimming skills are weak
If you come home sopping wet you've got yourself to blame;
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
Handle her respectfully; beware her boatish wrath;
One wrong move and she'll decide it's time you had a bath!
Other boats are couch potatoes; she's a spunky dame.
Patience is a lovely boat but Patience isn't tame!
It got a good response from the folks at the con—they laughed at the right places (though the song really should have included more pause between lyrics to let people laugh and still hear the song—I’ve noticed that when laughing means missing part of the lyric even the most appreciative audience will muffle their laughter. And dang it, I’m working for that laugh; I want to hear it. I need to take that into consideration more in the future), and clapped afterwards.
The Pegasus Banquet had pretty good food, but no dessert. Perhaps it’s just as well for my weight that there was no dessert, as my self-control drops when I don’t get enough sleep. I started a new song at the banquet, before the winners were announced, which turned out to be most fortunate later.
I was very pleased when Judi Miller won Best Performer (because she’s just generally cool, and because I think she has enlarged our ideas of what a filk performance can be) and again when “Girl That’s Never Been” won Best Filk Song (not that any of the other categories had unsatisfying entries or wins, but Vixy and Judy make me go squee).
After the banquet, I frantically struggled to finish my new song, pulled out a preliminary version in the Saturday circle (I ended up in a small circle in Metro; I like smaller circles better generally, and when I wandered over to check the other circle on a potty break, there were cool people there like Mary Crowell and Vixy and Tony, but they were packed in three deep and I just didn’t have the energy to deal), where I taught people the chorus and swore them to secrecy. I got to hear Peteralway at that circle, and another woman with a mando, whose name I forget but whose music I will remember, and more good performances that have slithered out of the steel trap of my memory (it catches only one thing—but that thing stays caught). I tire easily and left for bed about 1:30 a.m. I probably missed something neat. Indeed, that’s a fear that follows me around cons—that I’m missing something neat.
I cornered Quadrivium in the hall on Sunday, I think, to show her the new song and explain that I’d really like to perform it publicly at some suitable time before the con closed. So she stepped in at the start of the Farewell jam and explained that I had a special song, and summoned Judi to the stage to sign for it. I hadn’t counted on putting Judi on the spot that way, but when I glanced over in the middle of the song she was beaming and signing away, so I decided that was okay.
The Second Voice
By Cat Faber 2006
Dedicated to Judi Miller.
(chorus)
Judi makes us laugh;Judi makes us cry--
Her face is bright and her hands are light, and we love to watch them fly.
Songs take shape and form, and from her stance they shine
And the lyrics feel more alive and real as she echoes them in Sign.
I start to understand and never wonder why
As the sweet songs play while she lights their way like a fire that draws the eye.
The music draws us in and binds us tighter yet
As the music stands with her body’s dance in a dual-tongued duet.
Judi's smart and strong; Judi's sweet and bold
A mirror true, with a different view of the story being told
Chameleon and Queen of all the actor’s art
She shows her stuff leaving space enough for imagination’s part!
When we were done she hugged me. Until finally somebody said “Turn around Judi; we’re getting tired,” and we looked up and the whole audience was “applauding” by fluttering their hands in the air, the way people do in Sign. It was so cool. This is one of the things I like about filk; sometimes there’s a Moment. Sometimes I even get to be nearby
Plus some kind soul (I blush to admit her name has slithered out of the steel trap of my mind) saw I was wearing a Girl Genius badge holder and gave me a little stuffed Mimmoth on Saturday. (It’s a beanie baby elephant, actually, but it looks just like the mimmoths (miniature mammoths) that appear in Girl Genius and are apparently pests on the order of mice or rats, and are occasionally seen doing something amusing in the background of a shot while the main characters are talking. I spent much of the weekend carrying it around in my badge holder or shirt pocket and explaining that the pestiferous little beast had crawled into my bag when I wasn’t looking and I didn’t want it to get away since it would just get into the walls and breed, and I was going to break its verminous little neck as soon as I found the appropriate place to dispose of its biohazardous corpse. While gently petting it. On the way home I started writing a song. I was going to post it here, but have changed my mind. 1) it’s not quite finished and 2) much of the impact may be in the surprise value. So it will have to wait for GaFilk.
I stayed over Monday morning so I could stay for the dead dog filk Sunday night, and I’m glad I did. The filk was so big it split into two parts—I ended up in the one in the consuite by default, because it was the one I found first while it was just starting to condense. That was where I got to hear Becca and Graham sing together, and I heard Urban Tapestry sing a silly song about Paul Kwin. They really do comic stuff very well; somehow I hadn’t noticed the way they can turn their excellent timing and teamwork to humor before. Also I asked Vixy if she had any of Blake’s new stuff and she sang “Penelope’s Loom.” Blake and his wife Jen did a beautiful job on that one—I cried when Vixy got to the line about weeping as she unravels the pictures of hope. At one point I stepped out for a potty break, glanced into another room that had a circle, decided it was too big a circle for me, and besides, I wanted to hear more from the people I was with, as my small Saturday circle hadn’t had them in it, and went back to the consuite.
I thought almeda’s post about circle dynamics was fascinating, and it made me realize how important circle size is to me. I’m normally drawn to Class II (big enough not to collapse if someone leaves, small enough to get to sing often) circles myself. (Well, my ideal would be a non-accreting class III, but I don’t see any way to swing that.) Class IV (big enough it probably needs moderation) is usually okay. Class Is are intimidating, but okay as long as they grow to Class II within a reasonable amount of time. I had a horrible experience in a Class V (two hours to go around) circle a long time ago, and have avoided large circles ever since.
I wonder if it would be possible to prearrange with heavies (people who attract filkers to a circle) to seed several Class II circles and see what happens. Would they stay Class II? Would it be like soap bubbles—one would become Class IV and swallow the others? Maybe have heavies sign up in threes and and fives to seed/host circles in different rooms? Of course that runs into questions of who decides who’s a heavy and will my feelings be hurt if I’m not picked, and what if nobody comes to my circle, and maybe it’s just easier not to open that can of worms. But I wonder.
Thanks OVFF, for a wonderful time! Thanks Almeda, for a thought-provoking post.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-27 11:45 pm (UTC)and another woman with a mando, whose name I forget but whose music I will remember,
I wonder if it was
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Date: 2006-10-28 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-28 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-29 01:38 pm (UTC)