This is why I like to teach now and again. Because my students invariably school me.
This has been a great group of students: three high school students (one who just graduated) and a non-traditional (mid-20s, returning to school after solid work experience) college student who is assisting me in exchange for taking the class. All artists. All very smart, very talented in using their hands. They ask intelligent questions, are perfectly happy to redo small problems so that they correct their mistakes, and quickly grasp why we do the things we do. They have been excellent at following my instruction, understanding the models we have constructed, and creating some very nice books – with the result that we’ve gotten through more book structures than I ever have in such a class previously.
So, this morning, after finishing the last two examples I wanted them to do, I set forth the design criteria for them for their final independent books. We had an hour of class time, and I fully expected them to be able to think through the designs they wanted to construct, understand the structural issues which would be presented in trying to accomplish those designs, and tell me what they needed in terms of materials to translate those designs into completed books. Oh, sure, I expected that there would be problems that we would need to work through, but that was part of the whole lesson.
It was a debacle. A complete and total fiasco.
And this was the lesson for *me*: no matter how bright they are, no matter how good they are with the mechanical skills, no matter what their ability to understand design motif and execution . . . they just do not have the skills necessary to design, project, compensate, and complete a project given such a level of freedom (well, except for the assistant – he did exactly as I expected). I might as well have asked them to jump up on the roof of the art building.
Let me explain. People that age have many things. A fully-developed prefrontal cortex isn’t one of them. That usually doesn’t happen until the early 20s in most people, according to the best research available. They do not have the ability to completely understand all of their decisions and project their likely outcomes into the future (which explains a lot of late-teenage behavior.)
I hadn’t exactly forgotten this – I had been lured by their other skills into thinking that they were exempt. That’s akin to thinking that a 12 year old would understand what it was to be a parent because they were on the verge of puberty a little earlier than their peers.
So, once this eventually sunk into my own thick skull, I changed the plans for the class. I told them that tomorrow we’d go through and reconsider our initial designs, then construct a model out of practice materials which would allow us to work through any problems.
Sheesh – the things that it takes to teach me a lesson. Sometimes you’d think I was the one with the underdeveloped prefrontal cortex.
Jim Downey
Thought I would share a couple more of these from the project mentioned yesterday.
Above both this map: “Ingermanlandia seu Ingria.” [Map of St, Petersburg seen from the Gulf of Finland dedicated to Peter the Great.] Latin, 1734. Size: 22 x 19″
From this map: “Moscoviae Pars Australis,” Latin, ca. 1646 by Isaac Massa. Size 21” x 17”
And this map: “Taurica Chersones vs. Nostra aetate Przecopsca et Gazar dicitur.” Latin, ca. 1590 by Gerardo Mercator. Size: 22 x 18″
Fun, eh?
Jim Downey
So, this afternoon prepped materials for my next class tomorrow morning – they’re going to do a longstitch binding – then started assessing the maps I picked up on Friday for Special Collections. I need to go through and do an itemized estimate for them, and the first step is just to look the items over carefully, see exactly what conservation treatment they need. And I thought that I would post a couple pictures from one of the maps:
“Les Etats du Czar ou Empereur des Russes en Europe et en Asie –Avec les Routes q’uon tient Ordinairment de Moscow a Pekim. “ French, 1772 by Nicolas de Fer (1646-1720). Size : 25.5 x 17
This is actually the youngest of the maps I picked up – the others date back to 1590 – but it will need a lot of work. You can’t see it from these photos, but it was mounted to that acidic matboard using good ol’ Scotch tape. All around the edges of the map.
Sheesh.
People, if you have a nice map, or any other piece of art, DO NOT mount or repair the damned thing with Scotch tape.
Maybe some more pictures this week as I go through and get started on the rest of the maps.
Jim Downey
So, got my plants in:
- BHUT JOLOKIA: the Ghost Pepper
- HABANERO RED SAVINA, killer heat habs
- AUNT RUBY’S GERMAN GREEN, large green tomatoes
- IVORY EGG, ivory plum tomatoes I grew last year and really liked
- SAN MARZANO, a red plum tomato
- SPECKLED ROMAN, a red & orange striped plum tomato
- THESSALONIKI, large red globe tomatoes
It’s a nice, meditative process: decide the layout of where I want what. Place the individual plants (I planted 3 of each of the above, except the Red Savina peppers – did 6 of those). Then I go from location to location with a bag of organic fertilizer and a large Bowie knife. The knife was made by an uncle of mine, back in the era when people were wearing coonskin caps. I doubt he ever thought it would be used for such a purpose, but it is great for this, and has been a favorite gardening tool of mine for at least a decade – one of the highest compliments I can give. With the knife, I make a large X cut in the landscape fabric, then loosen the dirt. Reaching in with a bare hand, I scoop out the dirt, piling it nearby. In goes a handful of the fertilizer. Pop the plant out of the little plastic container, and position it. Loose dirt around the side to hold it in position. With the tomatoes, add in another handful of the fertilizer – the peppers don’t need it. Then pile the rest of the dirt up on the plant, to about the point where the first leaf cluster branches off. Push down lightly to make sure everything will stay put. Water lightly.
Doesn’t sound like much, I suppose. But after being on my knees doing it for about two hours, I was knackered. Took a little more time to put up some temporary “doors” covering the gaps in the deer netting, and called it a day.
Tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, I’ll get my tomato towers in place, and think of Ray. After, place the soaker hoses. Then keep a nervous eye on how things proceed.
Jim Downey
As you likely know, the Space Shuttle program is coming to an end, and each of the shuttles are on their final launch schedules. Take a few minutes and watch this amazing time-lapse vid:
The action starts in the hangar-like Orbiter Processing Facility at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center, where Discovery has been outfitted for its STS-131 mission. The vehicle is then towed to the 525-foot-high Vehicle Assembly Building, hoisted into a vertical position and lowered onto its external fuel tank and twin solid rocket boosters. Then it’s off to the pad on the giant Mobile Launcher Platform, where the shuttle is encased in its protective Rotating Service Structure until just before launch on April 5, 2010.
Sometimes the things we do impress the hell out of me.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Art, Book Conservation, Politics, Publishing, Society, U of Iowa Ctr for the Book, University of Missouri, Writing stuff
Earlier this year I got a nice note from the Director of Libraries at MU, asking whether I would be able to attend the Library Society annual dinner. As part of the evening’s event they were going to have on display some of the more noteworthy items from Special Collections Adopt-a-Book Program – work I had done, supported by donations – and they wanted to introduce me to their membership. Director Cogswell kindly offered to have my wife and I attend the fundraiser as guests of the Library Society.
* * * * * * *
It’s been a long week. I was sorely disappointed in the outcome of our local elections held on Tuesday, which saw a shift from Smart Growth advocates to a more “pro-development” slate of candidates for our city council/mayoral positions.
I’ve been involved in local politics at a very low level the last couple of years, mostly in trying to make sure that there was some balance between neighborhood interests and development. I’ve served as our neighborhood association president, and that has led to my participation in a variety of training workshops, as well as keeping a weather eye on development & rezoning issues in our area. I’m not against development – hardly – but I think it ought to be done with some intelligence and awareness of how it serves a community rather than just the bank account of a developer.
* * * * * * *
I confirmed that my Good Lady Wife and I would be happy to attend the Library Society dinner, though I preferred to pay the modest fund-raising donation for the dinner, and that I likewise would enjoy chatting with anyone in the Society who had an interest in my work. I’ve always been willing to do this sort of thing, meeting with donors, explaining the work I do and why it is important. In one sense, it’s self-serving – the donors are helping me earn a living – but beyond that my motivation is to help make sure the historically valuable books in these collections get the care they need.
It may sound a bit odd, but I’m actually fairly passionate about that. Yes, I do get paid for my conservation work, and it is a business – but I have always done a lot more work on rare books than I actually bill for. I don’t make a big deal out of this, it’s just my way of contributing something to the community and culture. If I were financially independent I would probably continue to do my conservation work, just as an in-kind donation to appropriate collections.
* * * * * * *
After Tuesday’s depressing election results, I had the last in a series of workshops scheduled on Wednesday to attend. The topic was “infill development” – a series set up by our Department of Planning to help explain why utilizing unused or neglected property within the city was a good strategy, and what the various issues pertaining to this kind of development were, and how development in cooperation with an established neighborhood could be to everyone’s benefit.
Let me tell you, it was damned hard to work up the motivation to attend that session. But I went, and was glad I did so.
* * * * * * *
The featured speaker for the Library Society dinner was to be Peter Hessler. Cool – I’ve read some of his work, heard him in interviews, respected his intelligence and humor. That alone would be worth the price of admission.
It was.
* * * * * * *
Thursday night there was another public event I needed to attend. It was the 2010 Neighborhood Leadership class. I had been in the 2009 class (the first one), and had been asked to sit in on a panel discussion about my actual experiences with building my neighborhood association. The other panel member is a fellow I know, like, and respect for the things he has done in his (much larger) neighborhood in this regard, and I knew that we would make a good team discussing this topic.
It went really well. I did a variation of my “don’t be afraid of failure” spiel in saying that each neighborhood would present a unique set of challenges and would need a unique set of solutions – that the neighborhood leaders would need to experiment, innovate, risk failure if they were to find the set of solutions that worked for them.
But like all such public speaking situations, it left me pretty much wrung out and a bit jittery after. Being an introvert is hell, sometimes.
* * * * * * *
We got to the pre-dinner reception, and it didn’t take very long to figure out that what I thought was going to be just a bit of a mention and some chatting with donors was actually a bigger deal than that.
These sorts of functions usually have assigned seating, with the ‘top table’ reserved for the emcee and featured speaker, a few Really Important muckity-mucks, right in front of whatever podium is being used. Well, my Good Lady Wife and I got our name tags, and discovered that we were assigned to table #2. And that our assigned seats were in perfect sight-line to the podium. And that we had the honor of sitting with the much-beloved chancellor-emeritus of the University, a couple of Deans, and assorted other Pretty Important People.
Furthermore the Director of Development caught me shortly after we got into the room, and pointed out that the centerpiece of each table was a nice flat cake. A nice flat cake which had “before” and “after” images of conservation work I had done, complete with the name of the donor who supported that work. And the cake on the #2 table was a book of Mark Twain’s “In Honor of James T. Downey”.
Huh.
* * * * * * *
Friday afternoon, before the Library Society dinner, we had another function to attend. A former employer of my Good Lady Wife’s, who is still a professional colleague and friend of hers, was celebrating his 70th birthday.
We got to the party late (it was being done as an Open House at the offices of his architecture firm), knowing that the evening event would take at least a fair amount of energy. This was a good decision.
Oh, it wasn’t riotous or anything, but there were a lot of people in attendance – current and former employees, other architects and engineers in the community. It was relaxed and informal, and I felt a little out of place in a suit & tie (we were going directly from this party to the Library Society event). I hate feeling out of place. But at least I wasn’t under-dressed for the occasion.
We chatted, enjoyed ourselves. People asked what we were doing these days. It was a good warm-up for me.
* * * * * * *
I went over to the display of the rare books, said hello to Mike Holland, who is the University Archivist, Director of Special Collections. One of his staff people was there as well, and they were doing a fine job of talking about the books on display. I joined in – introducing myself to the donors who were looking, explaining some of my working methods and materials, and so forth. It was exactly what I expected, and thanks to my previous socializing at the birthday party, I was already past my nervousness and in full “GalleryMan” mode. I had several very nice conversations.
Then we were called to take our seats so the evening festivities could begin.
The program listed my Good Lady Wife and I among the ‘sponsors’ of the dinner. I did indeed get a very nice introduction to the crowd, and a round of applause for my work. During the course of dinner several people came by the table to talk with me further, ask opinions and advice about books they owned, et cetera. We had delightful dinner conversation with our table mates. It was, all in all, a very affirming experience that helped me see that my efforts have been worthwhile and appreciated.
So, as I thoroughly enjoyed the presentation by Peter Hessler after dinner, it was easy to not feel any jealousy for his recognition as a writer and author. Yeah, I did flash on how fun it would be to return to that dinner in a couple of years as the “noted author and featured speaker” of the event, but I could see that as just a fantasy. Knowing that if I got hit by a truck tomorrow my life would not have been in any sense wasted was extremely rewarding.
We all need that, now and again.
Jim Downey
Well, this comes as no surprise:
About 20 percent of people are born with a personality trait called sensory perception sensitivity (SPS) that can manifest itself as the tendency to be inhibited, or even neuroticism. The trait can be seen in some children who are “slow to warm up” in a situation but eventually join in, need little punishment, cry easily, ask unusual questions or have especially deep thoughts, the study researchers say.
* * *
Individuals with this highly sensitive trait prefer to take longer to make decisions, are more conscientious, need more time to themselves in order to reflect, and are more easily bored with small talk, research suggests.
Previous work has also shown that compared with others those with a highly sensitive temperament are more bothered by noise and crowds, more affected by caffeine, and more easily startled. That is, the trait seems to confer sensitivity all around.
It’d be interesting to use the protocols from this study on artists & writers. I bet the data would skew way out of the usual distribution, with a much higher percentage of such people being considered “sensitive.”
Jim Downey
I mentioned the other day that things were progressing on Her Final Year, the care-giving book I am working on with my co-author(s). Well, as part of that my Good Lady Wife has started looking for an agent – the idea being that now that I have one book (almost) ready to be published by Trapdoor Press, it’ll be easier to find an agent who can get this memoir to the right publisher for that genre. In the process of looking over agency websites, she came across this one: Lindstrom Literary Management.
Go take a look at their website. Poke around a bit. It’s a nice design conceit, using a 19th century book style, combined with the different marbled paper backgrounds. I could have done those marbled papers – they’re all classics, and I am actually quite good at that particular art (you can see an example on my professional bio page). I don’t know whether Lindstrom will make the final cut of agents that we decide to contact, but if we do I’ll append a note drawing out the connection between what they have on their site and what I do in that aspect of my life.
Fun!
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 