Laura Miles' Big Adventure

Professional Procrastination

Sometimes you need a little online procrastination that you can really connect with. My friend Matt the Red (PhD, Medieval Studies at Cornell) suggested PhD Comics for that moment, and I'm hooked. According to the current comic, "Desk Entropy", I'm truly a first-year student, as my desk is quite lovely and clean despite several weeks of intense essay-writing. (Click on the image to see it full-size).

"The scholar complains"

In honor of the long days and longer nights I have been dedicating to my coursework essay, I offer you a bit of humorous Middle English verse. At this moment I feel a special connection with this young poet, and his whimsical fancies concerning his teacher. This anonymous poem dates from around 1500. I found it while perusing R. T. Davies' "Medieval English Lyrics: A Critical Anthology" (London, 1963), p. 289, no. 178. I have put little glosses on the side for a few things.

"The scholar complains"

Hay! hay! by this day,
What availeth it me though I say, nay? [Burden, or refrain]

[1]
I wold fain be a clarke [I would like to be a scholar]
But yet it is a strange werke:
The birchen twigges be so sharpe,
It maketh me have a faint harte.
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

[2]
On Monday in the morning whan I shall rise,
At six of the clok, it is the gise
To go to skole without avise -
I had lever go twenty mile twise.
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

[3]
My master loketh as he were madde:
'Wher hast thou be, thou sory ladde? [Where have you been]
'Milked duckes, my moder badde.' [My mother made me milk ducks]
It was no mervaile though I were sadde!
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

[4]
My master pepered my ars with well good spede:
It was worse than finkill sede [than fennel sauce]
He wold not leve till it did blede -
Mich sorow have he for his dede!
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

[5]
I wold my master were a watt, [rabbit]
And my boke a wild catt,
And a brase of grehoundes in his toppe - [hair]
I wold be glade for to see that!
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

[6]
I wold my master were an hare,
And all his bokes houndes were,
And I myself a joly hontere;
To blow my hown I wold not space,
For it he were dede I wold not case!
What availeth it me though I say, nay?

John Armitage Memorial

A long-overdue posting. Last month the Selwyn College Choir sang two concerts for the John Armitage Memorial foundation, a trust set up to encourage and sponsor new musical composition. We sang one concert in Southwark Cathedral in London, and another in St. Cuthbert's Church in Edinburgh, Scotland. Stephen Layton directed us along with the organ and brass ensemble. The pieces were difficult to say the least, considering no-one has performed them before and at many points it seemed as if performance was perhaps not a realistic end in itself. Here are some photos of us rehearsing in London, taken by our director Sarah McDonald.

Something Worth Posting About

Sorry to disappoint you'all by not posting lately. (I write in modestly). There has been lots going on lately, lots of interesting pictures, but I've been in a bit of a creative and social funk for the past few days (mostly hormonally induced, as usual, so nothing to worry about).

But I just stumbled upon something worth posting about and worth me crawling out of my creative funk.
I really enjoy the idea of Bansky. His artistic idealogy beats the crap out of most modern art these days, just blocks of color with no courage behind them. I think the Help section is particularly brilliant and I must remember to look to it for inspiration over the coming weeks.

When I lived in NYC I tried to do a little graffitti campaign by making stickers of this Langston Hughes poem and plastering the city with them. I wimped out very early because a subway car beeped at me and I got scared. I did have a vision though, but I was just little ol' me and I worked long hours and doing illegal things isn't relaxing.

I will dig the poem up for you soon.

I think I haven't been doing enough art lately, actually. Tonight I will paint some Easter eggs and that will get me going again. Then I have a nice concept for a blank canvas I have had for a while. I got the picture in my head on the train back from Edinburgh, Scotland, when the countryside was covered in fog, and monochromatic, but layered in green hue and pearlescent and transparent in a way that would suit itself much better to oils than acrylics, which I use, unfortunatley, in my painting adolescence.

In the Bar

Sarah, Rich, and Fran in the Selwyn Bar after Sophia's 21st Birthday Celiedh party in Hall, a few weeks ago. I sing in the Selwyn Choir with Fran, who is also a soprano on Dec. She has a lovely voice.

Last night Gus, the Selwyn College Master's cat, was sitting right on that window ledge outside the bar, keeping an eye on the court and very deliberately ignoring us. We tapped but he was quite obstinate.

Shopping

My new procrastination is The Bag Blog where I can browse purses until I am woozy with delight.

I also like to look at A Socialite's Life, because it's an easy way to keep with the lives of the rich and famous, and to realize that although it seems wonderful in concept to be a professional socialite, really it takes a certain level of intellectualism that frankly I just don't have in me.

A new item on my wishlist is this t-shirt made for English professors. The whole site, Busted Tees, is hilarious actually and sets new heights in the over-done retro motto t-shirt binge the world is on right now.

Selwyn, oh Selwyn!

Selwyn, oh Selwyn, how do I love thee?

Your red-brick walls are like a wool blanket, always smelling peculiar and earthy after the rain.
Your rooftops are like stairwells to heaven.
Your little black birds, like small visiting demonic angels.
Your undergrads, like over-grown rosy-cheeked street children.
Your grads, like under-washed spinsters emerging from their widow's tower.
Your fellows, like the overly-friendly witch in 'Hansel and Gretel.'
Your gardeners, like too-cute hobbits who didn't make the second callback.

Selwyn, oh Selwyn, how I love thee!

A Little Ivory Tower Oscar Speech

(Approaches podium in floor-length (with train) Prada dress in dark blue raw silk. Adjusts microphone.)

Good evening, everyone.

Soon I'd like to announce my decision of where I'm going to do my PhD.

But first I feel I need to thank just a few people.

First, my 5th- and 6th-grade teacher, Ms. Clarke. You brought me up from the disaster of 3rd and 4th grade and did wonders for me. My 8th-grade English teacher, Ms. Diffine - thank you for dragging us through the Illiad and singing "You say Tomato, I say Tomato" in the hallway with Mr. Montante and all of us.

My English teachers at Sem - Mr. Malcolm, Mrs. Magavern, and Mrs. Fiedler. Mr. Malcolm, I always cover my mouth when I yawn ever since you threw me out of class for forgetting. Mrs. Magavern, that paper I wrote on "A Prayer for Owen Meany" for your elective class really got me hooked. Mrs. Fiedler, I think my first exposure to medieval English literature was when you read aloud the beginning of the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. I really loved reading "Tess," but beyond the books we actually read one of the most potent modern literature experiences I have had yet was your stories of parties at Ted Hughes' and Slyvia Plath's apartment in London with Allen Ginsberg and Kurt Vonnegut and your husband. We Sem girls really appreciated your first-hand involvement with real writers and its accompanying slight craziness. Your husband's essay "Come on down to the raft, Huck Honey" hit me in college and I am lucky it didn't get me stuck reading in the last two centuries.

At Brown: Thank you Profs. Russom and Bryan. Your friendly support and almost monastic scholastic intensity made me rise to the occasion, and your recommendations must have done the trick. Also, Prof. Mira Viswanathan - I will always aspire to your scholastic creativity and integrity.

Thank you, Lucinda Rumsey, Lecturer in English at Mansfield College, Oxford for introducing me to the mystical, devotional and anchoritic works in Middle English. Also Prof. Eric Christiansen of New College, for giving me taste of the real "old school" Oxbrige world.

So, now that you all know who you are, I hope you'll be pleased to know the fruits of your lessons has brought me to do a PhD and ultimately to become a professor at some university out there. So this fall I'll begin a Master's at....

(drum roll.....)

YALE.

Yay!

In Cat News...

Check out this story about a cat that traveled for ten miles on the roof of his owner's car. Reminds me of the classic Saetveit cat story about Pookie, who jumped in the trunk of Randolph's car early one morning in Buffalo, and traveled with us all the way back to Providence - 7 hours in the cold trunk!
I'll put up some photos soon highlighting Pookie's escapade and return.

Two Quick Reminders

1) Go and take a look at Randolph's blog, because he's posted on lots of exciting thing we've done recently. He also put up as photo albums some great photos of Lyveden New Bield and other places. There is also a gorgeous photo of the daffodils on my window sill I am looking at right now, still very happy a week after Randolph's birthday.

2) Remember that each time you click on the little adverts over to your left a little bit of $$ comes my way. So support the advertisers! (And support me!) You know you want medieval re-enactment clothing! I find it very funny those are the only sites that come up when Google "trawls" or scans the page for content. How embarassing if it wasn't so funny.