This was a rather hectic week, but I seem to be saying that most weeks. Tuesday was an especially bad morning at work, which involved answering some surprise questions triggered by newspaper stories, as well as scurrying around to bring documents to people for hearing preparations. Our front office has gone insane and we have now all been ordered to have an email rule that plays a distinctive sound in response to emails from the acting director of our group.
My only particular non-work excitement during the week was a trip to the mall. There was a fashion show at Macy's, but my more immediate reason for the trip was the need for a new cheap watch. I have good mechanical watches and do wear them some of the time, but I need something less valuable to travel with. With watch batteries costing eight or nine bucks, I figure I might as well just buy new junk watches every couple of years. I succeeded in finding the cheapest acceptable watch in the mall (at fifteen dollars, including tax). Then I watched the fashion show, tried on a dress I liked a lot but haven't quite decided to buy (i.e. I may go back for it), tried on a jacket that didn't quite work with the dress, and attempted to find socks. There are lots of socks for sale, but none of them were mostly black with some sort of slightly cute design on them, so I failed at that. But the watch was the important thing, so the trip was worthwhile.
Then, this weekend was the Virginia Storytelling Alliance (VASA) Gathering. This was at a retreat center in Harrisonburg, in the Shenandoah Valley. The drive there was irritating, as the traffic was heavy through Gainesville and the rain was heavy for some miles after that. I got there later than I'd planned to, just as things were starting. The opening event was a story swap, which was fun even though my name didn't get picked out of the hat to tell. That was followed by refreshments and socializing. I was too tired to stay long and went down to bed about ten.
Saturday was filled with workshops. I was a little distressed when the morning general session started getting into the debate over who can tell which stories. The gist of this is that some people object to people not of their culture telling their stories. This is mostly an issue for Native Americans, but comes up in other circumstances, too. My problem with the debate is that nobody ever changes anybody else's mind. For me, the answer is how people represent what they're doing. For example, I tell a Mongolian story fairly frequently, but I'd never claim any particular authority about Mongolian culture. I do, though, frame the story with a personal bit about how I found the book I got it from.
The other workshops I went to were one on Oral History, one on Multiple Intelligences, and a coaching session. I can't say that I learned a lot in the first two. In the coaching session, I was looking for ideas about what to do with the beginning and ending of a story I've told a lot in the past. The problem is that what I'd been using didn't work for me any more, because it had to do with Middle East politics. Essentially, I couldn't be as frivolous in mocking the peace process as I had been, but I still needed something to pull the piece together. What I used when telling it didn't work yet, either. While the feedback I got didn't directly answer the question, it did lead me to figure out what I can do. I was also pleased with the response, in general. Storytellers are, indeed, the best audience.
There was an evening concert, that was generally quite entertaining. Afterwards, I went down to the silent auction, where I got into a bit of a bidding war over a pair of rhythm sticks. Alas, I lost, but along the way I had a lot of fun, as the two other women bidding for them and I got into a bit of a storytelling contest over who needed them the most. We came up with insane things about dead grandmothers and warding off ancient curses and the like. There was a ghost story swap afterwards, but I decided that I needed sleep more than I needed to hear scary stuff.
That decision was validated this morning, as I saw the bleary eyes of those who had stayed up. The workshop I went to today was on marketing and was fairly good, though not quite long enough. There was a final swap, but I wanted to get an earlier start on the drive home, so skipped out after the workshop. My plan had been to stop in Winchester for a walk, but it was so cold out that I changed my mind. I still enjoyed driving through the Shenandoah Valley, which is lush and green. It was particularly enjoyable to have much less traffic than there had been driving out. All in all, it was a good weekend, one that renewed my energy.
Copyright 2004 Miriam H. Nadel