15 books

Oh my goodness, a post that is not a photograph! This was making its rounds 'round Facebook, and I rather liked the responses, so I'm posting them here as well. It was interesting having to think of 15 books -- to narrow them down! -- and think about the ones that really stuck with you.

These are in absolutely no particular order. Don't make me choose - I tried once, and it was painful.

Instructions were: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.

1. I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
An absolutely amazing coming-of-age story, that just pulls at your heart and never lets go. I love the beginning: "I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. That is, my feet are in it; the rest of me is on the draining board, which I have padded with our dog's blanket and the tea-cosy." Oh--first love. The film, incidentally, is phenomenal.

2. Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling
Does this need explanation? The end of my childhood perhaps may be an exaggeration, but it was so bittersweet and tied up all the loose ends. So sad it had to end this way, but I'm glad it did.

3. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
This book has FOOTNOTES. Footnotes for books that are within the world! Books on the history of magic in England! Amazing. In the style of an early 19th century novel, it creates a world of English magic that you wish was real.

4. Time & Again by Jack Finney
I am realizing that there is a definite "time travel" theme to my books. Si Morely travels back to 1880s New York City to solve a mystery. One of my father's favorite books (if not the favorite) and summarily passed on to me. Also, historically accurate - neat!

5. The Egypt Game by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
Fed into my love of Egyptology as a child, my fascination with the hidden and tucked away, and remained with me ever since.

6. The Giver by Lois Lowry
Oh, those descriptions of the memories! The world! Taught me that you could stand up to the world for the greater good.

7. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
One of the first novels I remember just devouring. I read it in 6th grade, when we lived in Cambridge, England, because I remember my little room, and the armoire that held my clothes and my treasures like coins stacked up in neat rows. I had a cover of Jane Eyre that I adamantly refused to believe was what Jane looked like, because the cover looked like Kate Winslet. The book frightened me terribly as well -- I was convinced that Mrs. Rochester lived in my grandfather's attic and still cannot sleep in the house unless the door to the study (which leads to the attic) is closed. Oh, that cackling laugh at the keyhole--it's still dreadfully scary.

I also just spent a half-hour attempting to find this cover, but the Internet has failed me. It is a pretty girl in a bonnet on the right hand side of the cover and it is bright.

8. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
This book is one of the first times I have literally gasped in horror at one of the plot twists. Oh, Marian! What a heroine!

9. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
Hush, Tyler. I loved it, though I freely admit to skipping most of Galt's speech, because I'd already read 800 pages of it, basically. The image of the Rearden metal on Dagny's wrist - wow.

10. These Happy Golden Years (from the "Little House" series) by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Oh, Almanzo. Oh, those calling cards with the spray of flowers! Carriage rides! I read this right at the point when it could set the bar of how I wanted to be courted. Also, Almanzo is a looker.

11. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin
Great mystery. Probably started my love for puzzle-like mysteries as a kid.

12. the Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
A delicious neo-gothic novel with deep roots in Victorian mysteries -- libraries! fires! twins! mysteries! -- it's just fabulous. I picked it up in the morning and didn't put it down until I finished it.

13. Lost Moon by Jim Lovell
It began with Apollo 13, but because this book was the logical sequel to watching that film (as it's the basis) it fueled my love of the space program, my admiration for Jim Lovell, and subsquent love and appreciation for Apollo 8. This caused one particular green binder cover in 6th grade to be covered in diagrams of Saturn V rockets, CSMs and LEMs, lists of astronauts by group, and a map of the landing sites (which was honestly a moon with some Xs at random points.) At one point it will be framed.

14. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
One of the greatest sets of stories of patience and faith, and I read it at a time when I needed more of both. Lamott writes in such an honest way, you find yourself relating to her -- because what she goes through is what we all go through, searching for meaning in our lives.

15. Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman
Autobiographical stories of her love of books. As a reader, it only makes you happier to read books about loving books, and these essays just make you happy. Who can't relate to: "Not everyone likes used books. The smears, smudges, underlinings, and ossified toast scintillae left by their previous owners may strike daintier readers as a little icky... I developed a taste for bindings assembled with thread rather than glue, type set in hot metal rather than by computer, and frontispieces protected by little sheets of tissue paper."

runner up: Interpreting Our Heritage by Freeman Tilden. Because it's inspiring.

365 - apollo glass

I won! I am very excited with the spoils of my most recent eBay win. As you can tell, it is quite fabulous (and a logical partner to my Apollo Command Module bottle). Oddly, this is only the Service Module - no command module - but I suppose you couldn't drink it that way.

lots of comics

So these past two weekends, I embraced my (not so) inner nerd, and went to two comic conventions.  Technically, the Baltimore Comic Con and SPX, the Small Press Expo.  Personally, I preferred the latter, but that's because even at BCC, I spent most of the time with the independent comic artists, and that is all SPX is!  Fantastic. 

I ended up meeting creators of some of my favorite comics, including Kate Beaton, David Malki!, Dresden Codak, Danielle Corsetto, A Softer World and some fabulous artists that I bought art from: Dave Perillo, Jonathan Case, David Peterson and a few others.  Wonderful.  Also I picked up a billion posters of DC Comic characters (free) a ring like the Flash, and things like that but I liked meeting all the artists better.  

As a result, I loved SPX.  It was funky, a younger crowd, less crowded, more tattoos, and everyone was totally sweet.  I had big long discussions with people about 18th century comics and things like that, and got Claire a sketch by Kate Beaton, whose history comics we both adore.

Here is all my swag!  If you click on the image, it'll take you to where I've put notes on what exactly things are.  Just know that they are all fabulous.

The Mos Eisley picture -- which I love -- is now in my bathroom (which, incidentally, I am remodeling and photos will come shortly) and I am debating where to put the ROM SPACE KNIGHT (the Wraith Brides one) poster, as well as the Softer World print (far right).  We'll see. 

Phew!  Back to work.  I have been drowning (slowly) in reading, but so far it is all going well.  

bask in my stick figure skills!

Yeeeeep.

Please note: the amount to read may in fact be to scale (although only one article for tomorrow!)

if you give a museum studies major a case...

...she'll make a fake art exhibit.  Which is exactly what I did at lunch. 

I took army men, put glitter on parts of them, found a glass case at my desk, and wrote up copy about the exhibit.  Enjoy! 

Close up on one of the soldiers:

The entire installation - note the army man on top, with no glitter, clearly the "outsider" looking in.

...and finally, the copy.  I made it up, tongue firmly in cheek of course.  Make sure you click on it to read it fully!  Fantastic.  

first day of school

Well, yesterday was my first day of school at American.   Here it is, in roughly photographic chronological order.

All in all a great time.  I'm excited, but it is strange to go to a campus where you know literally no-one.  Ok, my cousin Jacqui goes to American, but this happens to be the semester that she's abroad in Rome.    I happen to know quite a few people that have gone to American, but none that are students now.

That being said, I give three hearty cheers for departmental orientations.  I met some cool people, and managed to mention that I liked 18th c. fashion to the professor who is studying 18th c. women's fashion as an indicator of roles between society and gender.  Yes!  Too bad I can't take her class. 

The classes I do have, however, are matching up to be great.  I've had, so far, Enlightenment, which is quite a bit of primary source material, and Historian's Craft, which is basically a course on historiography (the history of studying history -- i.e. studying interpretations of events, biases, etc).  My Public History Seminar is tomorrow (today) and I actually have reading to do -- yikes -- but I must mention one more thing before I go. 

This was a footnote (!) in my syllabus for Enlightenment.  Fabulous.  Click on it to see a bigger size. 

In all seriousness, though, I'm so excited. 

my pilgrimage

Yesterday marked a high point in my life-- that fulfilling of a Childhood Dream to visit Cape Canaveral.   Starting in approximately 5th grade (release date of Apollo 13: June 15, 1995), I became absolutely obsessed with the early space program, devouring every book I could find and drawing diagrams of Command-Service Modules, LEMs, Saturn V rockets, and lists of astronauts on a particular green binder.  

This love has always been bubbling along since then-- through other obsessions, it has remained-- and nourished every once in a while.  A new documentary ("In the Shadow of the Moon") a new book ("Moondust"-- absolutely wonderful, incidentally), or a friend (Josh) that shared my love so much that he brought me back oven mitts shaped like astronaut gloves.  I got him an inflatable Saturn V.

So of course, my trip to Cape Canaveral was not just a trip.  It was a pilgrimage.  

As a result of this being a bit of a historic trip, this is a long post.  Consider yourself warned.  I've linked to some of my photos, but the rest are here.  

My main goal was to visit the historic launching pads.  Apollo 1, for some inexplicable reason, has always had a tight hold on me, and I came with the almost express purpose of visiting Pad 34.  That was where, during a routine check the day before the launch, a fire swept through the full-oxygen environment of the Command Module, and killed the 3 astronauts inside: Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee.   Grissom had been one of the "Mercury 7," and the second American in space, and was one of the prime candidates for the first walk on the moon.  White had been the first American to walk in space, and this was Chaffee's first mission.

Of course, this event sent shockwaves--that is, of course, putting it lightly-- through NASA, and caused a total (safer) redesign of the hatch, a new nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, less flammable velcro, insulated wires, and more.  What boggles my mind is that it was difficult to find even a mention of this at the Kennedy Space Center.  Frankly, it was difficult to find Apollo or previous missions.  

What saddens me is that those are the missions that are truly on the bleeding edge, always innovating and reaching further towards the moon.  I realize now we are in a time of complacency, because we have no Cold-War competitor like the USSR that is capable of overtaking us in a new Space Race, and perhaps that is why we should look back still.  There was complacency after we had landed on the moon, and now that seems implausible; we had landed on the moon, a feat that we have not yet repeated, and yet America was bored.  America is bored now, not because the Shuttle missions couldn't be interesting, but because the focus is on ant farms and science projects that have no foreseeable future as theories for lunar bases and life on Mars are thrown about, but have looming budget cuts and a disinterested government to compete with.

But I digress.  It was Mercury, Gemini and Apollo that originally captured our imaginations, and it is those missions that are relegated to off-site museums and hidden exhibits, in the shadow of Shuttle Launch Simulators and space-themed eateries.

There is, in theory, a "Apollo / Saturn V Center" on the premises.  It does, amazingly, contain the original Firing Room for Apollo -- the desks in Florida where they monitored the spaceship prior to liftoff and give the official go/no-go for launch.  They even simulate a launch, turning on all the bells and whistles that make it come to life--- complete with rattling windows in the back, presumably, to simulate what it would sound like were a Saturn V lifting off nearby. 

However, as I walked out from that room, after taking copious amounts of photographs, I was expecting to be confronted with an extensive exhibit on the Apollo program.  Instead, I walked into a long hall the length of a Saturn V, with the eponymous rocket hanging above, the space decorated in cartoonish primary colors and smelling of french fries from the "Moon Rock Café" located at somewhere around the second stage.  In truth, the Apollo / Saturn V Center was little more than a glorified café/giftshop, with large versions of Apollo patches hanging from the ceiling, to use up dead space.  It was, in truth, profoundly disappointing.

In such a state, I returned to the main Visitor's Center, with the intent to visit a few more things.  The gift shop was on the way, and I poked my head in, only to be boggled by the sheer amount of things that can be only termed "space kitsch."   Slogans like "Failure is Not an Option" (never actually said) and "Let's do Launch" are emblazoned on everything from shot glasses to mousepads, and in ways that are in no means aesthetically pleasing, but look amateurish at best. 

Fortunately, as I left, things began to take a turn for the better.  I went to the Rocket Garden, which is a collection of old rockets, and not, to my friend Becky's dismay, an actual garden.  It's got Mercury/Redstone, a Gemini/Titan, and all sorts of neat early space rockets. 

At the back of the Rocket Garden was a building labelled Early Space in a new-Tomorrowland (I mean that in not the best of ways) font, with a Gemini capsule attached.   I headed back; it looked closed.  It was, however, open, and where all of the information about Mercury, Gemini and, to some extent, Apollo, had been relegated.   The exhibit was o-k.  Some neat space-age-era lunchboxes and playing cards and things like that, which I think are just fantastic, but not much to my recollection in the way of artifacts.  

Then, I turned the corner.   There, sitting in front of me, alone, behind glass, was Mission Control for the Mercury missions.  Mission.  Control.   I can't express how cool this was.   (This room!) Tiny Mercury capsule on the map, to chart the progress of orbital missions, Bakelite phones, all the switches and dials and computing power that is probably in a programmable wristwatch.  

The slight damper on this was in order to tell the story of Mercury Mission Control, the museum had a film with a woman who I'm sure was called "zany" that went back into Mission Control and spent 5 minutes being confused by assorted titles of stations in Mission Control.  I hasten to add that the positions are not that complicated, and the titles -- conveniently -- usually describe the job.  I rarely say this, but as a woman, and in particular, a woman fascinated by the space program, I was aghast and actually quite offended.  It came off as if these "complicated" areas of early NASA were too complicated for a woman, let alone a modern woman to comprehend.   I'm sure it remains alienating to children as well, who are then convinced that such things are too complicated and then turn all their attention to IMAX, which I'm sure delivers information in succint, bite-sized, boring chunks. 

So I left. 

I headed off Merritt Island (technically what that part of "the Cape" is called), west towards the "Astronaut Hall of Fame."  I still argue it is perhaps the dumbest name for a site, and I would have driven by, had Josh not insisted that I stop in.  

This was what I had wanted the Visitor's Center to be like.  I walked in, and the first step in the exhibit is an open copy of a first edition of Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon.  Illustrated!  Also Buck Rogers, and all sorts of olde-tyme texts and images that showed how people thought we would go to the moon. 

The next room had banners of all the Mercury 7 astronauts, and as I turned around, I saw a Mercury suit -- recognizable for the most part due to its uncanny similarity to my Mercury Astronaut GI JOE (who knew?) -- and looked closer, realized it was Gus Grissom's.   That is how this museum began.  

There was a timeline that kept you abreast of NASA events, panels that showed the different astronaut pools (Original 7, New 9, &c), LOTS of artifacts, and the whole time they have speakers overhead with newsreels from the specific years, spelling out what else is going on in America when these men are flying into space.  Fantastic!  Also:  Apollo 14 CM.  Neat.  A beautiful memorial hallway for Apollo 1, with a quote from Grissom that I had never seen before:

If we die, we want people to accept it.  We are in a risky business and we hope that if anything happens to us it will not delay the program.  The conquest of space is worth the risk of life. 

Wow.   

From there, I walked around, and since I was the only one (basically) in the museum, spent 10 minutes in a mock-up of a Mercury capsule (clearly not made for anyone with hips) and just stared at the instrumentation.   Apollo had always been the most interesting for me, but it was here, on my back, jammed into a seat staring at dials, that I finally had closure.  Even if the rest of the Center was terrible, this moment was worth it-- sitting there, knowing that you are in the same position, thinking about the same things:  the wonders of life, and the next steps in the exploration of space.   I didn't ever want to leave.

off into the horizon!

This photograph has absolutely nothing to do with anything, except that it was Tom's birthday, so Becky made him a cake, which the boys then decorated with sprinkles and miniature WWII soldiers and tanks.   It makes me giggle.

That being said, today -- as I am writing late, as I pack (late, as usual) -- is my last day of work, and first day of my month of travels.  Expect updates, as I have goals of visiting Cape Canaveral and taking all kinds of photographs while hiking through Utah! 

the perfect saturday

My roommate loaned me her record player and LPs for the night.  Fantastic.  I've got Simon & Garfunkle on (though not when the photograph was taken), and I miss my record player.  But that's ok: I've got this one for now.  Happy.

quentin's ring

I've started to wear this ring again.  Around my neck, but I find myself absently fiddling with it throughout the day.  It's another remnant of Infernal Gaslamp, which I realize more and more (especially now that I'm reminiscing) was another great formative part of my life. 

I love the world, and I love that it's so tangible.  In the Circle, especially, we are taking this to new extremes and seeing documents as academic sources from days gone by, and having to treat it not as gospel, but as a possibly biased source.  The creation of history, in that strange meta way, is addictive. 

I have been added to the pantheon of saints in the Circle-universe.  In a small homage (or whatever you would call it) there is a St. Emily the Chatterer, who is known for building the greatest library in the world, then losing it all when she moved from Ivortown to Orryk.  

It is, I was told later, a reference to my pages upon pages of notes for Infernal Gaslamp, which I no longer have access to.  Not nearly as dramatic, as they are in storage, not destroyed, but I liked the comparison, which will nurse me through the times of having a meagre stash of pages.

As I like the ring.  I can't remember how I got ahold of it, but you'll have that.  Now, to sleep and prepare for tomorrow.  I'm excited.

forays into the æthernet

I'm not sure if everyone knows, but I've been invited to contribute to the lovely Steampunk blog, Brass Goggles.   I'm excited -- and my first post has just been posted, which you can read here.  It's on these amazing tiles that I saw at the RISD Alumni Art Sale.  Stunning.  I want the entire set...desperately.

Go visit the blog... there's a particularly neat post on pocketwatches that was posted today, too!

acceptance is a wonderful thing

Well, I think that is rather self-explanatory.  I'm quite pleased, especially considering I had officially given up all hope of even hearing from American University (the sender of the abovementioned missive), let alone getting in.  

Well.  You only need one acceptance, as they (Mom) say. 

More information and some thoughts on "place" coming up... tomorrow, when I am less bleary-eyed.

But for now: Hooray!

nerd-cookies.

Today, I made a cookie shaped like the periodic table of elements.  It is pretty amazing, if I do say so myself.   

Please note: I did not make the extra two rows at the bottom, because there was no way to attach them and make it clear they were elements. 

This was a day-long adventure making nerd cookies by Becky & I for one of our nerd-buddies who is studying organic chemistry.  We also made beakers, test tubes, molecules (one of which you can see in the picture!), and the state of Illinois (he attends Northwestern).  Illinois came out remarkably well, considering we had to look up what exactly it looked like!  

A very creative afternoon.

summit, saints & sinners.

This past weekend was the Christian Science "youth activist" (whatever that means) Summit in DC.  It's basically a get-together for CS kids 12-30, to see lectures, go to workshops, and meet other kids.  I went to one in Chicago this past October, which was surprisingly fantastic.  

Also, it gave me an excuse to be tourist-y!

I probably should have expected connections with people, but since Chicago was remiss in connections from my past, I assumed I would fly relatively under the radar at DC as well.  However, no less than five people upon hearing my name said something to the effect of: "You know, I know a Hummel family in California."   Turns out, conveniently, they meant my family!  Small world.  

Also, since very good friends of ours were throwing a "Saints & Sinners" party in Gettysburg, us Gettysburgians headed up -- armed with nerdy costumes, as this was no ordinary party.  To begin with, our ride up consisted of: 

Of course, there were the requisite "sexy" devils and angels, but we demand more creativity than sparkling devil horns and tail.  Josh went as Sisyphus, with our friend Tom as "a rock."   

My friend Mike was dressed as a post-modern Judas ("You know, like Jesus Christ Superstar") and, at midnight, walked over to his friend dressed as Jesus, kissed him on the cheek, and had Josh hand him a bag full of coins.  Mike then wandered off to the bathroom to make a noose, and Jesus was dragged off, dead, to another room.  

Moments later, as Becky and I were observing the situation, I turned, looking for Jesus, but he was not there.  Becky squealed: "He's risen!" and we just fell apart.  

Wonderful.

adventures in surreality

Today, Amy and I headed into Old Town Alexandria to go shopping, and as we are walking by the town square Amy looked confused, and said "Hey!  Is that the Pillsbury Dough Boy?"

Yes.  Yes it was.

Wow.  Apparently it was the National Trademark Expo at the US Patent Office, and there was a guy dressed as a giant registered trademark sign, which was odd, but so was the juxtaposition of the two corporations represented by characters: Pillsbury & Microsoft.

What? 

All I know is I got a picture with the Master Chief from Halo.  Eat your heart out, nerd-buddies.

let's roll some dice -- or, wait...

scissordice!
Originally uploaded by hummeline

So today was spent driving out to a game store for the intent to buy dice.  Not regular dice, but polyhedral dice.   As you can see, I am now the proud owner of a lovely little collection of dice, including 2 twenty-sided dice ("d20s") - and the middle one is purple, green, and blue: gorgeous!

At any rate, they're the first dice I've ever bought, as I no longer have access to Eric's bag of dice, which contains the sparkly-pink ones I have previously used (and loved).

It's strange, because I don't think of myself as a gamer, yet I've been involved with it for 8 years, and I bought these specifically for a game (and by that, I mean role-playing game) of Tyler's, called the Circle. 

This game in particular becomes an excuse to delve deep into character development & world-building, which provides an excuse to write and makes one think about fictional characters (for that is what they are) in new ways.  They take on minds of their own, which is a familiar feeling for those who write, but it is always strange to have a character react to things in ways that you don't expect -- or to hang on to feelings that you thought they would have long-abandoned.  

I like that.  Even if it never explicitly comes out in the game, there are bottled up emotions that I associate with my character that determine her every move, and in that way, it makes the game more real.  Not real in the sense that Infernal Gaslamp was, when my character was a thinly-veiled version of myself (crushes and all!), but real in the sense that those latent feelings makes the game a more life-like experience.

Of course, I will probably never be in disguise and a member of a ragtag band of mercenaries trying to convince a foreign government to give us an army to beat back mutated beasts, but if I were, I have a feeling it would be similar, because, in game, there are all the personalities, biases, hatreds, friendships, and reactions of real people.

In the meantime, I'm editing the wiki we've created so all the players can keep all the facts about the world straight.  It's currently 573 pages.  That's a lot of information, most of which will go un-mentioned, but the delicious detail is so fun to learn, especially for the historian in me.  

A month left until the next session -- and I cannot wait.  I will be connected through my computer, but at least I'll have fantastic dice.

bring me that cylon religion

So I was reading the lesson for this week, that has a passage from Genesis (32:30, specifically) as its major point of study for the week.

...I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.

Maybe I've been watching too much Battlestar Galactica (impossible!), but I just got to giggling, because it sounds exactly like how the Cylons (that would be the robot bad guys, for those of you not as fluent in BSG) speak about their religion - in particular, it sounds exactly like Number 3's quest to find the Final Five Cylon models.

 Fantastic.  Hee hee.

trips north & south and into space

over the shoulder
Originally uploaded by hummeline

Well, it is already Tuesday, and Claire & I have been quite busy.  Saturday she arrived, and we immediately headed out to a Pirate-themed restaurant / bar (yep) where my friends were gathering for a release party of a new CD of a pirate band!  Claire got along swimmingly with the rest, due to well-timed references to Mystery Science Theatre 3000, among other shrines of nerdliness.

Sunday a lovely Easter spent with family, which contained the event of our cousin admitting to our staunchly Republican family that she is interning at the DNC, which was blurted out, confession-like, after we had earlier banned all political discussion.  Of course, having a family gathering without a discussion about politics is not likely to happen, and we were summarily roped into a lively discussion about the current slate of presidential hopefuls. 

Claire & I headed then south to Williamsburg to ogle pretty clothes (and handsome men in them) and meet with friends.  It proved to be quite fun, as we met up with most of the old crew that wears funny old-fashioned clothes, as evidenced on the right. 

Now, Claire & I  have just finished disc 1 of Battlestar Galactica Season 3, the whole of which I must finish by April 4th at 10 pm, when season 4 begins.  Have faith in me. 

Also, we made enchiladas!  Please enjoy the picture of our creation, along with some lovely Gaius Baltar being the embracer of Cylons that he always is.  Mmm...delicious.   So say we all.

why I hate historic films

mark the taylor
Originally uploaded by hummeline

So I watched John Adams on HBO on Sunday with Mom, and I realized why I can't watch historical films anymore.  It isn't because John Adams is bad -- on the contrary, I think Paul Giamatti is breathtaking in the eponymous role, but it is hard for me to concentrate on plot, when my brain naturally focuses on costumes.  

I spent most of the time not enjoying the events, but recoiling in horror from whatever Laura Linney was put in, and I was miserable.  

Let me say: I hate this.  I hate not being able to enjoy the medium -- film -- that I love so dearly.

I love researching, and I love promoting an air of authenticity in what I wear to events & what I promote at the places I work, but at the same time, that authenticity comes at a cost: that I cannot enjoy the film.

That being said, the films that I have seen by reenactors that are purported as being 110% accurate have been the most boring films I have ever seen.  Plot was sacrificed for accuracy (actually I'm not sure it was there to begin with) and my falling asleep was the result.

The photo above is a few friends from Williamsburg, dressed pitch-perfect accurately.  [l to r: Amy, Holly, Brooke]

That being said, this high level of accuracy to me is more important for historic sites & museums than films.   Of course, it's rarely, if ever, come to fruition, as even in Williamsburg, the supposed bastion of authenticity, there are people walking around in adulterated versions of garments.  I tried, at Mount Vernon.  I failed to convince anyone but the librarians, who I adored.

I put so much research into this slave clothing that I nearly went mad.   I went through records of what slaves were issued on the outlying plantations (as opposed to the main house) and the scant images when people had deigned to represent field slaves in paintings.  I found articles.  It was long, laborious, and fruitless.  Except for this photo, which I must say, is worth it:

But is it worth it?   Do people even care -- or do they lump all "olde tyme" clothing together, creating a quixotic quest for those of us who do care?

It's the look, not the construction, that's important in films, and it's easy to achieve.  Or so I think.

Yet it's the look I wish I didn't know about.   I would rather I knew nothing, and be able to enjoy a film, than know everything and regret watching. 

At least Battlestar Galactica is set in the future...

historical preenctment

Today was a mail extravaganza day!  

It was the arrival of my GRE scores, which was a shock not that I didn't know them, but that I had confused them. 

I was in such blissful shock at the original reciept of the scores (directly after the test) that I had assumed the higher number was my Verbal section score.  It was not!  I did better in Math!  This is not to say I did not do well in Verbal -- I am 94% percentile! -- but wow, higher in Math.  Surprising. 

My mailbox also contained my new Historical Preenactment Society shirt.  From this comic of Dresden Codak, a fantastically nerdy webcomic.  

"Because the best history has yet to happen."  I love it.

Now I just have to fill out some questions on my experience with exhibit design, then off to a celebration of a friend passing the bar in Virginia.