Counterculture?

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This has been on my mind recently: questions about and satire of the Portland OR culture. Questions about "counterculture" as it is here, or if the "counterculture" doesn't really exist in Portland.

As I often do, I started with definitions and then see where things fit or don't; what paths or rabbit holes appear to give me a deeper look at the things I'm researching or writing about. The first thing that came up was from Oxford University Press, so that would seem to be a reputable resource to quote. And here it is:

1. counterculture
   [ ˈkountərˌkəlCHər ] 
   

   NOUN

   a way of life and set of attitudes opposed to or at variance with the prevailing social norm:
   "the idealists of the 60s counterculture"
   Powered by OxfordDictionaries · © Oxford University Press

Oh, let me say right now that if you are hoping I will give you an answer, I won't. I don't know where the counterculture is in Portland OR or if it exists.

I was recently in an online humor writing intensive with Ariel Gore. I wasn't the only one who poked fun at Portland in the course. In the short one week writing experience there were several pieces about different aspects of Portland "weird." I have also been preparing to interpret "The People's Republic of Portland" at Portland Center Stage this week, which is about just this topic. I laugh at some of the jokes along with everyone else - the ones I know are probably coming in Lauren Weedman's show and the improv sections I've never heard before despite having seen the show several times. I nod in recognition of the characters she energetically shows the audience and laugh and the sometimes only mild exaggerations; the show is funny and she is great. And I think, yes, this is Portland and it's not all bad; but is it "counter"? (Side note: the show is worth seeing and it is running right now; if you want to see the interpreted performance it is this Thursday, April 9th, at 7:30 pm. Get your tickets soon as performances are selling out!)

When does "weird" become the norm? What does that look like? What does it take for the self-consciousness of appearing to be "counter-_______" (fill in the blank) to become the standard? Is it counterculture when there is a right and wrong, when there is pressure to conform, when the individual becomes the mass, and when the focus is inward toward individual or group? What is the counterculture countering? Or has it become so commonplace that there is nothing to counter? Has the Portland Weird Culture become so mainstream that we need a counterculture to the counterculture?

Or is the idea of A Counterculture outdated and we should just look at diversity, instead? What is the role of a counterculture? What has the role of the counterculture been historically and is that still true or still needed? If we don't really need a counterculture any longer, what has replaced it in terms of keeping us alert and alive as people? What keeps us from becoming a bland homogeneous unthinking mass which just plugs in to a pod and melds?

I'm not talking about the extremists. I'm not talking about the mentally unstable or sadistic or the outliers.

And here I start going down the rabbit hole of "what am I talking about?" What do I think is wrong? If I think something is wrong then what is missing or what would make it right?

What I do know is that it feels like "Portland Weird" has become just one more thing to conform to or to resist. One more thing to say "yay, I love it," or "boo, I'm better/worse than you." One more thing to make you feel better or worse about who you are.

Do we need a counterculture? Can or does counterculture exist? Or is this one more label to separate the "them" and the "us?"

2011

1960s  

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Papers: The Movie

If you're local and you haven't seen this film yet - here is an awesome opportunity to see it for free. I was at the premiere and was very moved. It is well done and I would be encouraging everyone to go even if there was a cost; for free, absolutely!

To those of you who are not local - keep your eyes open for it in your area. It is on tour (their website probably lists upcoming dates of showings).

Dear Portland, Oregon Friends,

If you or someone you know in the
Portland-Vancouver area wants to see the documentary "Papers" but hasn't had the
chance yet, there is a public screening this week in NE Portland.

Please pass on to anyone you think would like to know.

Tuesday, February 2nd at 6 pm
Hosted by PCC MEChA
Portland Community College
Cascade Auditorium
705 N. Killingsworth Street MAHB 104
Portland, OR 97217

Representative Michael Debrow will speak

FREE and OPEN TO PUBLIC

Trailer at www.papersthemovie.com

.

call for submissions

...from Lorette C. Luzajic....

Michael Jackson Tribute anthology
deadline August 29
Michael’s 51st bday

I’m compiling and editing an anthology of writings about Michael Jackson.

Not looking for “I pray we’ll never part/ you’re in my heart” stuff, just so we get that out of the way.

I’d like to see stuff you wrote when your heart was wrenched apart by the news of his passing. I don’t want to obsess over his death, though, to balance the stories with his life.

I’d like you to write something creative about your experience of one of the songs. I’d love you to get really open and write something interesting based on one of the songs. For example, some people have never even heard of Stranger in Moscow and yet it’s one of my favourite works. Not everything is cheesy. I could argue for the creative maturity here and contrast it with the emotional immaturity that still disturbs me. I could write about why I relate so much to Song X.

I’d like you to eulogize, philosophize, lament, theorize. Write about your experience of Michael, how his magic touched your madness. Poems, too. And again, try not to write the kind of stuff Mikey did in Dancing the Dream. I want this collection to be literary, but not snobby. Think Salon or Maissonneuve or Bust Magazine or Now or Discover or Rolling Stone if I get lucky. Or just be from the heart, but come at it from a different angle.

Absolutely zero bashings about dead pedophiles. I shy away from no topic, so feel free to discuss your thoughts intelligently. Discourse is good. But understand that I go with innocent until proven guilty, and the man was found innocent by the courts, so I have to go with that unless something else comes up. You don’t have to agree with me, but there’s no point sending bashings. Thoughtful considerations of the implications of this kind of tragedy and scandal are fine.

Humour, too, please.

There’s still plenty to say about Michael Jackson. I intend to compile it.

Previously published or posts is fine by me, as long as you can prove it’s legally ok for me to use it- ie, you own the rights, or the first publisher gives me permission.

I hope to have this project out by the end of the year, crazy I know, so get writing.

I’m so sorry that I am a woman of few means and this is a labour of love, so I can’t pay you. You will be fully credited with a bio and any websites or whatever you want. It’s a great chance to use Michael Jackson stuff that might otherwise never speak to anyone. It’s a gift to Michael, too, taking his work and impact seriously.

Please feel free to send me a note with any questions. Feel free to run something by me. To check in. Don’t worry, I’m a very friendly editor and I’m not too busy for you because this project is important to me. Like I said, it’s a labour of love, and like many of you, I have a deep, abiding, intense, sometimes upsetting relationship with Michael Jackson. I believe his reign and fall say a lot about our culture, and there were so many aspects to the story that merit pondering. And so, I want to contribute to the shrines in my own way, not just by waving an old poster at the downtown memorials- though I was there, too….

Lorette C. Luzajic
thegirlcanwrite@hotmail.com

www.thegirlcanwrite.net

happy ... whatever

I totally get not calling the K-12 school break, "Christmas Vacation." Not all of the children and their families celebrate Xmas and many of them celebrate other holidays around this time of year and some people don't celebrate anything - well, no holidays - this time of year; it's just another few days off (or not). I get that those with authority saying "Have a Merry Christmas" to someone who does not have the authority may seem like they are telling the worker/customer/client that Christmas should be celebrated or it may be perceived as such.

I also understand the idea of offices having the "Office Holiday Party" for the same reasons. See above.

But aren't there times it is appropriate to actually tell someone "Have a Merry Christmas?" And this is coming from someone who, while I do celebrate Xmas because it is the culture I live in and I have a child in my life and it is a favored holiday of my family. But if PersonA knows that PersonB celebrates Xmas/Christmas and PersonB is being transferred to another location on Xmas Eve and PersonA wants to wish PersonA a fond farewell and, well, is it not okay for that person to say "Have a Merry Christmas" without fear of being reprimanded by a supervisor? After all, it *is* that actual day - it is not Solstice nor Hanukkah nor Kwanzaa nor Boxing Day - it is Christmas in the USA.

I witnessed this somewhere today. No, not the employee getting in trouble. But the employee being afraid s/he would be disciplined, or at least written up, for forgetting to not say "Have a Merry Christmas" to someone who was leaving the company. It would not have made sense in that setting to say "Seasons Greetings."

I'm still rolling this pearl around in the silver bowl. How to not offend and not unintentionally oppress or unduly influence? And yet how to genuinely say that this day is called Christmas Eve and tomorrow is Christmas and I hope they are good days for you?

Many years ago I knew someone who celebrated HanSolMas with her multicultural/multi-ethnic family.

Some people say, "Happy Whateveryoucelebrate Day."

Some people say, "Merry Christmas."

Some people smile and say, "Have A Good One."

Some people smile.

What do you think? What are some of the perspectives on this issue?

Try writing a story with a protagonist whose beliefs are the opposite of yours on this issue.

And, whatever you celebrate around this time of year, may it be good and joyous and fulfilling in the way you need it to be.

Blessings.

photograph: a Zubble

holding on to slow

It was a pleasure to wake up without an alarm this morning. And after nine hours sleep. I still have some sinus stuffiness and the reappearing cough - but otherwise feel fine.

It was also really nice today to not have any appointments. Things I wanted to do, yes; places I had to be at a certain time - no.

For example, I did have to put the studded tires on my car and broke down and bought chains, as well. I was planning to skip the studded tires this year - but with the weather, I can't. The ice is what scares me more than snow and I have two out of town jobs in the coming week. There is another storm forecast for the area, which is supposed to hit us sometimes either late Saturday or on Sunday - with a prediction of 3 - 6 inches of snow. Hence the chains. I haven't used chains for probably 15 years. The last time I did it was kind of a disaster and I remember being miserable putting them on - and just to get out of our little neighborhood, because downtown and where I was going was fine. These are supposed to be easy install. We'll see!

I think it would be hard to maintain this laid back, "whatever," "when I get to it" attitude all of the time. But I would like to hold on to part of it.

For example, we did go out for dinner tonight because there was no food in the house (we did scrape together coffee and toast for breakfast). What a contrast. When in Oaxaca, we would eat leisurely, they would very occasionally come over to see if we needed something more or to clear away an empty or abandoned plate or bowl. And they would wait around until we asked for the check; which we sometimes forgot we had to ask for it. But tonight, the waiter was over a couple times to see if we were ready, came by when one of us was not yet finished to whisk away the plates, and the check was there while we were still eating. Very different feeling - even though tonight's waiter was very friendly and doing his job well. Cultural difference.

I like the slower pace. Now to figure out how to incorporate some of that into the "here" where I live.

visit with the Navarro family

We held our writing workshop at the Casa, as usual, in the morning. There was a field trip planned out to a nearby village to visit the Navarro family at their home and place of business. They make beautiful weavings for table and wall runners, bags/purses, belts, etc. This is the traditional lap weaving, where one end of the threads are tied to a post and the loom fits around the weaver's waist. There were four of them working to make the textiles while we were there.



On the way back to Oaxaca we stopped for comida at a nice restaurant along the road. It was very delicious. I don't remember the name of the dish I ordered, but it was a squash blossom stuffed with cheese, pepper, and vegetables, and cooked with a light eggy outside, similar to chile rellenos (one of my favorites).

It took a while to get back through town to the Casa, because they were preparing for a big celebration which starts on Thursday. There have been some parties and other celebrations and protests while we've been here. But for this one we saw floats (different than the Rose Festival at home - but still floats) and carnival rides and heard marching bands practicing.

I wrote another short piece tonight from the writing prompt. Not an easy one and I went way off topic. And that is okay here. As cliche as it sounds, I am itching to get started on revising the novel. But I am going to wait until I get home. I still am feeling a little lost about how to begin, but am sure I will figure it out. With help.

Only one more group meeting at 10 AM tomorrow. Afterwards we are going to our facilitator's mother's home for a home cooked comida. Then a couple people are leaving. Most of us are staying tomorrow night and leaving at various times on Thursday. I will miss these writers.

December in Oaxaca

Earlier today I had to write the date. I found myself struggling because, well, it just doesn't feel like December to me. Not down here in Oaxaca, Mexico. It was hot - in the upper 80s in the sun; we went out for our exploration after the workshop and I had on capris, a light cotton shirt over a string undershirt, and my Kumfs sandals. And sun screen. There are fake Christmas wreaths hung on balconies and over doorways; real and plastic and metal trees in restaurants and shops and homes; garlands of green, glass and plastic tree decorations, and twinkling Christmas lights on the trees in the Zocalo. Christmas is here and, well, it's hot and sunny. Disconnect!

Whereas I see that home in Portland, there was a snow storm. It looks like there are two to four inches of snow around the area - which is unusual. The temperatures will be dropping into the teens at night for up to a week, the latest forecast says. The high temperatures will be about ten to fifteen degrees colder than the low temperature here.

This is a new - and not at all unpleasant - experience. We have tended to go to colder than home regions the few times we've been somewhere in December. So going someplace warm is a treat. And I did not expect my reaction of "what's wrong with this picture."

The workshop is fabulous.

The food is yummy.

The culture is comfortable and I am finding that, while I don't speak Spanish, I am being able to pick up some things I'm being asked. If they go at gringo speed, I know - slow. And I have actually been able to ask for a few things myself. Another new experience. I've needed to rely pretty much entirely on my partner for the language part of the trips to Italy or Mexico (all one time to each I've done in the past!) - being completely unable to comprehend or produce anything myself. But this time I've been able to do just a little bit myself.

I must end this post for now, because tomorrow morning we have an early continental type breakfast at 7:00, then it's off to Monte Alban at 7:30 am to walk up the ruins - where we will hold tomorrow's workshop. So I must stop to sleep.

With a smile of contentment.

found: eating

Okay, so maybe this is not revolutionary. But it was new information to me, so I thought I would pass it along because I am sure I am not the only one without this information.

The other day I was working with a person from Japan. Among the items for my lunch was part of a pomegranate I had sliced in two the night before, to make it easier to eat. Yum! This person watched me as I pulled a section off and pulled off a few arils/seeds with my teeth (I didn't want to stain my hands). I felt a little self-conscious. This person kept watching me. I took a second bite.

"Excuse me," this person asked somewhat timidly, which is not their usual confident and forceful manner of speaking. "But did you just eat the seeds?"

I replied that, of course I ate the seeds because that is the fruit.

"No, no. I mean did you swallow the seeds inside the fruit?"

"Yes."

This person explained that there was a pomegranate tree in the family yard in Japan. The proper way to eat a pomegranate is to just tear it open - "do not cut it, just tear it apart" - and then bite some of the fruit. But to spit out the hard seed in the center!

"Really!?"

"Yes. Do not eat the seeds. Spit them out."

Huh. I had no idea. I finished the half of pomegranate eating it in my own way. But I never before even considered sucking the red portion off and then spitting out the seed. But I guess that is how they do it in Japan. Kind of like a watermelon except with the melon the proportions of seed to fruit is vastly different!

Illustration from ThisNext

T:BA:08 so far

This was going to be a discussion about some thoughts and experiences I've had as a result of my T:BA experiences so far, but has turned into a mini-review. So I will go with that for now and then talk about thoughts and feelings.

My favorites so far:

"Built" by Sojourn theatre. A definite piece of art related to the space in which it happens, which explores boundaries and all things urban. Mead Hunter has an excellent review of the performance at MrMead's Pupu Platter. The performances end tonight, so, if you're reading this, go if you can - although it's probably sold out.

"Ten Tiny Dances" was a one-time occurrence at T:BA, but you can catch a performance at other times of the year, since it is a local event. I always like the smorgasbord of offerings (ten dance performances on a small 4x4 stage; although last night there were only eight due to illness and someone else needing to back out) and am moved and inspired by what I see; you don't have to be a dancer to be inspired by the performances. Usually there is a Ten Tiny Dances performance in the spring sometime. Mike Barber, the founder, mentioned he is thinking about what to do for their 20th performance (last night was #17). That will be an event to not be missed.

"England" by Tim Crouch was an excellent performance and interesting experience. One genderless character being played simultaneously-alternately by two actors, one male, one female. It gives us what is happening inside of our experience while we are experiencing it; nesting and holding simultaneously. There is more to this complex performance which takes place at the Elizabeth Leach gallery - which you can read for yourself and I don't want to give any more away. I also was lucky to be one of the participants in his morning workshop, which went over by an hour and we all were glad. There are several more performances through Thursday of this week. Go if you can.

I've been to a couple others which I enjoyed, but didn't make it to my favorites list.

There is only one I didn't like and which I left before it was done. It is nearly three hours long; at 30 minutes I was questioning why this was made and by an hour I knew I wouldn't make it through and wondered if there was any way it could redeem itself if I hung around. When the word "intermission" appeared on the screen over a cheesy/kitchy sunset background, I was so out of there, as was half of the remaining audience (a quarter of the viewers had left before making it that far). It was the "Day is Done" film by Mike Kelley. Here is one person's review of it from the TBA blog, which talks about some of the artist's intent and style, something I can't do since I didn't experience that myself when I was watching. I'd be curious to hear what other people think of it - especially filmmakers, screen writers, those moved by film in a way that I may not experience.

Tonight will be poetry and satiric comedy. No late night at The Works, though, since I have an early morning job out of town.

swimming and T:BA:08

There have been a series of things this week conspiring against many of my plans. Could be a planet alignment or karma or bad luck or just the way it goes sometimes. Things like a laptop battery at less than 5% when I met my writing friend for a 3-hour writing session (luckily there was an outlet available at Common Ground and luckily I had my power cord). Or the check to the phone company which bounced despite the money being in the bank and ending up without outgoing phone or internet service (quickly remedied - but still a pain and couldn't be taken care of when it was discovered at 10:00 at night). Or leaving home 15 minutes early to make sure morning rush hour traffic didn't make me late, only to end up stuck on a bridge due to an accident on the other side after avoiding the construction on my usual route which was forcing everyone to one lane and avoiding the other two possible bridges due to accidents announced on the radio; yes I was late and it took me 70 minutes to make the 35-40 minute drive. And more.

My point? It's been a trying week. When I was woken up by the phone company at 7:30 this morning, telling me that the phone problems I'd discovered last night were due to the bouncing but shouldn't have check, I was not happy. That was that proverbial final straw. Life sucked. Everything was conspiring against me. All I would ever have is struggle and I was sick of it.

I lay in bed, pulled up the covers, and stuck out my lower lip.

Then I thought: maybe I should try going for a swim instead of moping. Naw. Too much trouble and what's the point, anyway? But maybe, I thought. Just maybe, it would help at least take the edge of my growing grumpiness.

I cajoled and pleaded and promised myself an East Indian Tofu Ranchero breakfast at Old Wives' Tales if I went. And I sent a text message to my workout buddy about my struggle to deal with the stress in my new way and even better, by swimming (a walk would have been good, too; but my body likes swimming and it's a nice balance for my work). She sent back words of encouragement and, with that, I was able to finally drag myself into the bathroom to put on my swimsuit, then clothes over, grab the other things I needed, and get to the gym.

About 44 laps later (I was going for a mile, but there was a water workout class that came in before I hit the 60 lap mark) I got out, showered, and went to my car feeling better than when I went in. I felt physically better and my energy had improved; I was still emotionally upset, but at least I wasn't trapping it in my body. An improvement, but still grumpiness reigned.

I kept my promise of the rancheros and looked over my plan for tonight's T:BA:08 events. The first one received a rave review from Mead Hunter, a local dramaturg, so I thought it would be good. And the grumpies were putting a damper on last week's excitement about T:BA finally being here.

Only five minutes into that first event, BUILT, all of the grumps took a serious back seat. Some live performance - and interactive at that - mixed with a small self-selected crowd (reservations required, even for us pass holders), and my creativity and sense of life returned. I didn't forget about the other little things, but they did become little.

More about T:BA soon. But, for now, I have my missing piece: performance/theater/dance/art back and that, coupled with some exercise, improved not only my mood but my entire outlook on life.

...now if I could just bottle this...

event: PICA's T:BA:08

PICA's Time-Based Art Festival 2008 is coming soon. September 4-15, to be exact. It showcases theater and performances from here at home and around the world. There is a wide range of performance events: some will inspire, some will challenge, some will wake you up or raise some emotions. It's a time to try something new -- step out of the comfort zone of what you know and like and take a little risk. It's only for an hour or two ... unless it is a major event like last year's Gatz (a theatrical production which included a reading of the entire book, "The Great Gatsby"), which was six or seven hours, with a dinner break. And so worth it. That was one example where I thought I'd skip the show, but then decided, what the heck, give it a shot, and don't go back after dinner if I hate it.

I went back after dinner and was there when they closed the book after the final word.





There are passes to be bought if so inclined, or individual tickets. There are some free events so anyone can go. There is a late night events hub, The Works, which has music, spoken word, sometimes film, performance ... and is filled with energy. One of my favorite local performance events will be there, Ten Tiny Dances. And others I haven't heard of.

Every year I find at least one new music artist/group which becomes one of my favorites. This year I have already planned out the events I want to see and, with a couple of exceptions, am scheduling work around the event.

There are also some free artist talks. Some low cost workshops. And fun. And new work. And art. And on-site events. Neighborhood events. It's a big cultural party of the arts and it's only here once a year for ten days.

And did I say, it has energy?!?

There is one major on site event on September 14th which is free and will be a not-to-be-missed event. It's the "The City Dance of Lawrence and Anna Halprin " with Third Angle New Music Ensemble and choreographers Linda K. Johnson, Cydney Wilkes, Linda Austin, and Tere Mathern and writer Randy Gragg. This event combines music, architecture, water, dance, performance and creativity for two performances only. Did I mention it's free?!?

cultural equivalents

...really, I'm not making this up...

Portland, Oregon


weekend brunch (by yourself or with a group of friends)


meeting for coffee









Anchorage, Alaska


hunting for bear (or talking about your friend who did if you didn't win the bid to get one of the few coveted licenses)


dip netting

found: kup'it language

I had the opportunity to go to the Anchorage Museum for their 40th birthday & expansion celebration. The special exhibit, Yuugnaqiallerput, was about the Kup'it (kupiit) in northern Alaska. The exhibit was alive with culture, life, dance, and celebration. And language. Below are some phrases I wrote down which touched me in some way as I wandered and looked and watched.

How does this relate to writing? Because it's language. Each trip I take I find myself being exposed to new pieces of this world and this country where I live. And I am picking up pieces of language, be it other uses of words I know or, as in this case, a unique language on its own. And I see where we overlap or compliment or how, as in Kup'it, a whole idea is embodied in a word or two. And my sense of the world and the choices I have to make while writing are bigger, more open. Potentially more colorful. Who knows, maybe a future story will include a character meeting someone who it Kup'it or running across a phrase on an old piece of wood stuck in the snow as he snowmobiles in several miles to catch a glimpse of the Iditarod....

Alfred Milotte, Alaska State Museum
Pair of masked dancers performing at Hooper Bay in 1946

Cat Tamarmeng Elpengqertut : all things have awareness (One of my favorites)

Kenekngamceci Qanrutamceci: we talk to you because we love you

Qanruyutet: words of wisdom and instruction

Tuvqakiyaraq Kalukaryaraq-llu: sharing food and feasting

Aruqutkat: gifts

Tuaten-gguq ayuqellria tuvquyutuli cali ingna erneq aipirluku unguvaaqut: they say those who are generous with food are given another day to live. (Paul John, Toksook Bay)

Cauyarnariuq: time for drumming

Agayuyaraq: requesting abundance (at the final winter ceremony; involves singing songs of supplication to the animals' yuit [their persons])

Ciimat: stones

Kenngessuutet: a fire-making tool - nasal mucus was smeared on the edge of the fireband, which made the fire start right away

Yuungnaqpiallerput: The Way We Genuinely Live

it's not what you say but how...part I

I'm currently reading The Girl of His Dreams by Donna Leon. This is the most recent of the Commissario Guido Brunetti series, all of which take place in Venice. Brunetti is a member of the native Venetian minority. He was born and raised in Venice, and is one of the few who can speak true Veneziano, complete with the Veneto cadence, and is able to recognize others who are of this dwindling group. Their knowledge and use of this language provides a shared intimacy and connection on one level, even if they do not interact with other members of this group on a daily basis. This issue of language within the stories plays out not only between the characters (who can and can't speak the language, or who may attempt it but their cadence or misuse of a word gives them away as an outsider), but also between reader and writer.

Later I want to talk about my perceptions of how the reader is participant in the intimacy of Veneziano and some specific language features of the writing. What I first was thinking of was use of language as a cultural identifier to show membership of a group or affiliation with a particular subculture of a group.

Thinking about this led me to think how an association by language also occurs within the Deaf community, which can include interpreters and other non-family hearing people who sign. This was not news - but I did gain a new perspective on Commissario Brunetti when I made the connection, and, conversely, on the function of true American Sign Language (ASL) as an identifier within the larger Deaf culture. I remembered two incidents where my signing style was commented on by people who are deaf, which placed me in a context for them.

In one situation, the person who is Deaf asked me if I knew DL, because my signing was very much like hers. DL is Deaf and was one of my early ASL instructors, and my ASL linguistic instructor when I was in the interpreter training program. This person knew DL and respected her, and when I told him she was one of my teachers when I was first learning, I had an "in" by association. The other example was after interpreting a concert. A few days later, I ran into one of the audience members who was deaf. He asked me if I knew TB, who was very well known in this area for music inerpretation. And, again, the person was right on target! TB was my first ASL instructor and had a strong influence on me going on the become an interpreter. He was also an influence and mentor for me on music interpreting. The audience member liked TB so, again, I was "in" due to a connection by language which went beyond me using ASL.

Once again the old saying is true: It's not what you say but how you say it!

Venice photo by Kevin Ashbrook

- - - - - - - - - NOTE - - - - - - - - -

When I wrote the beginnings of this post, I was on a plane to Alaska and hadn't yet looked up "Veneziano" to find out the facts beyond what I'd read in the Brunetti books, despite having read
most of the books of the series over several years. When I returned home, I did look it up and found the following on a Venetian language resources website:

"Venetian or Venetan is a Romance language spoken by over two million people, mostly in the Veneto region of Italy. The language is called vèneto in Venetian, veneto in Italian; the variant spoken in Venice is called venesiàn/venessiàn or veneziano, respectively. Although commonly referred to as an Italian dialect (dialeto, dialetto), even by its speakers, it does not descend from the Italian language but has its own morphology, syntax and lexicon."