The Window Seat: October 2010

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Picture of The Day

NanoFiction Series at Kaboom Books? Mm, I think I'll head out there for that.

Sara

Saturday, October 30, 2010

P.S; books.

Today, I bought four new books at Kaboom:

A River Sutra, by Gita Mehta. From the back of the book:

"Evokes the Indian landscape so sharply that we can practically smell the night-blooming jasmine... the sense that things are richer and more meaningful than they seem, that life is both clear and mysterious, that the beauty and the horror of this world is irreducible and inexplicable." -Washington Post Book World

Flaming Iguanas: An Illustrated All-Girl Road Novel Thing, by Erika Lopez. An excerpt:

"Magdalena and I are gonna cross America on two motorcycles. We're gonna be so cool, mirrors and windows will break when we pass by. We'll have our own hardcore theme music that makes us throw our heads back and bite the sky. Bugs may stick to my burgundy lipstick, but I'll just spit them back and they'll look all the prettier for it."

The Abortion: An Historical Romance 1966, by Richard Brautigan. From the cover:

"This novel is about the romantic possibilities of a public library in California."

House of Leaves, by Mark Z. Danielewski. From the back of the book:

Its secrets are rich and obscure. Danielewski's textured novel is about apprehensions, in all senses of the word: to anticipate with dread, to seize, to understand." -Gregory Maguire

Yeah, I'm pretty excited about these.

Sara

Last Wednesday, I was assigned a story concerning the family who recently won Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. The Johnsons live in the Third Ward, and their house had been severely damaged by Hurricane Ike to the point where floorboards were rotting and accumulating holes. The size of the house, too, was a problem -- the Johnson family is made up of five homeschooled girls and their parents, too large a family for a house the size of your average living room. The family was picked partially because of their contributions to the community. The two adults, Elaine and Eric counsel couples and are planning to release their book next year. They're also major supporters of Houston's Green Initiative.

A fellow intern and I drove to the Third Ward to visit their new house and interview them about the process. As soon as we drove under the freeway and into the neighborhood, the change in atmosphere was incredibly clear. The houses started sloping, becoming smaller and smaller-- all chipped paint and chicken wire fences, and then no paint at all and chickens. The streets, too, were in a condition less than pristine. The edges of the road dwindled into roadside trenches. Holes pockmarked the surface. My mother and I drove through the neighborhood, craning our necks to look out the window, trying to find the proper house.

And then, from two blocks away, we saw it. Rising above bungalows in shambles with falling-apart roofs rose a house that looked more like it belonged in the McMansion section of Bellaire than among the other places. All stucco and wood and elegant wrought-iron fencing, it stuck out like a sore thumb when in front of the house across the street, a woman in threadbare clothes was shooing chickens into the dirt-and-dry-grass yard.

The interview went well -- the family proudly showed us their elegant home, documenting the entire thing on videocameras they'd just received and then playing us music on a brand new shiny red grand piano. There's no question they were a deserving family. Elaine and Eric Johnson were ready to volunteer information about everything they were doing for the community, sharing enthusiastically their family motto "live right, love all, give back." The five girls were all incredibly poised and sweet, answering questions with a "Yes ma'am" and complete, carefully articulated sentences. "We want to turn this into an Extreme Community Makeover," Elaine Johnson told us. As an article by Lisa Carey regarding the family and Home Makeover episode stated, here was Extreme Makeover helping out "another deserving, community minded family."

At the same time, though, it was hard to see. Who are we -- who is anyone-- to choose who's deserving and who's not? With run-down houses and rusty mechanical remains in lots next door, why does this family get a vast, imposing house when, for the same money, multiple smaller but equally functional and sturdy houses could be built? The family proudly said that their neighbors were happy for them and came to celebrate in their new abode, but it must have hurt at least a little to compare. Of course I'm happy for this family -- there's no doubt about that. They shouldn't have to live with a crumbling house. Then again, should anyone? Extreme Makeover crosses the country making examples of proud, large, photogenic, admittedly deserving and compassionate families and carefully avoiding camera shots of the houses next door.

I was pleased to meet the Johnsons and very happy for them that they finally would have such a wonderful place to live. They're an asset to our community, for sure.

But should this really be the reward for being "community-minded"...

When this is next door?

Sara

Monday, October 25, 2010

On Skills Related to Journalism, otherwise known as, How to walk up to a complete stranger, smile, and start talking as if you've known them all your life.

In writing for the Chronicle, nobody doubts we’ve learned a huge number of skills already, only two months into the program. But as an inexperienced reporter, fresh out of AP English 3 with nothing else under my belt, I’ve come to discover many more skills and pros aside from the ability to interview well, speak loudly and confidently with complete strangers, and write in the proper format using terms as clever as possible to draw the reader in. I’ve learned more about human nature.

In every interview I’ve done, I’ve been met by, if not complete enthusiasm and smiling faces, then at least an absolute willingness to help as much as possible. Going in, maybe I had some dystopian view of myself dodging cascades of rotting vegetables as I ran from the angry, misunderstood interviewee. Or perhaps I was sure that I would come up to a stranger to interview them, and they’d think, “Who is this girl-- This mere high school-age child? How dare she approach me with such inane facsimiles of interview questions?” Either way, I was sure I would try my best and be met with resistance. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

My first interview was with a professor who had won a teaching award. She was, admittedly, not too hard to track down, though at the time I was tearing my hair out and obsessing over checking email and finding correct phone numbers. I recited what I’d say thoroughly, repeating it over and over as the phone rang. When finally the secretary in the English Department of San Jacinto answered, she was brisk and sharp. My heart pounded. Was this what it would be like-- cold walls of communication where I craved only a single willing response? The secretary connected me to the professor’s phone, where I was left to eye the line of ants coming in my open door as no one answered.

On my third call directly to the professor's office, she picked up. Finally! Though she was on her way to a meeting, she admitted, she had a few minutes to answer questions. I was forced to forget my nervousness in communicating with her as she responded to my requests, questions, and comments with smiles that were palpable through the phone. Quickly, I relaxed and even laughed a little in response to some of her wittier comments. As the phone beeped, signaling the end of the call, I let it drop from my fingers and began to furiously type out the related article. Was this what it was like?

And it has been, since then. From an artist offering to buy me coffee to other students emailing later to make sure I had everything I needed, I’ve found my forays into the public to glean information altogether harmonious. People are kind, I’ve learned, and eager to help where they know they’re wanted. If I give a warm smile and act interested in their lives, they will most of the time be happy to answer with an equally warm response.

I know one day I’ll come to face that cold wall I so dread-- I’ve been told so multiple times by journalists I’ve met while at the Chronicle. I know one day I’ll smile in my overly enthusiastic manner and be met by an eye roll and a monosyllabic answer, and I think I’ll be ready for it when the time comes—after all, these congenial members of society I’ve been in communication with are preparing me for it.

What can I say? It comes with the job. But hopefully I’ll be able to avoid the rotting vegetables.

Sara

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Houston Art Galleries

This year, I've been using the train to get home from school. Sitting still for 20 minutes a day every day, often with no book or music to keep me company, I've taken to staring out the window at the people and buildings rushing past. One day, I saw a series of galleries and decided to look up how many more there were in my area. You would not believe how many free galleries and art spaces there are in Houston -- and so many accessible by train! Here's a list -- by no means comprehensive, and I promise to update as I discover more, but it's a start.

HOUSTON ART GALLERIES (and various spaces that can generally be placed in the same category)

-Art Palace (contemporary/multimedia): 3913 Main Street. Open Tu-Sat 11-6.
-Fotofest (photography/video): 1113 Vine Street. Open M-F 10-5, Sat 12-5.
-Jung Center Houston (classes/books/visual art): 5200 Montrose
-Station Museum of Contemporary Art (contemporary/multimedia): 1502 Alabama. Open Wed-Sun 11-6.
-Caroline Collective (collaborative workspace): 4820 Caroline Street
-Gallery M Squared (contemporary/multimedia): 339 W. 19th Street. Open Wed-Sat 10-6, Sun 12-5.
-Aurora Picture Show (film): 1524 Sul Ross. Open Mon-Fri 10-6 [must make appointment to view library]
-Houston Center for Photography (photography, surprise): 1441 West Alabama. Open Wed + Fri 11-5, Th 11-9, Sat + Sun 12-6.
-McMurtrey Gallery (contemporary/regional): 3508 Lake St. Open Tue-Fri 10:30-5, Sat 11-5.
-CTRL Gallery (contemporary/multimedia): 3907 Main St. Open Tue-Sat 11-6.
-Inman Gallery (contemporary/multimedia): 3901 Main St. Open Tue-Sat 11-6.
-Blaffer Art Museum (contemporary): UH 4800 Calhoun Rd (120 Fine Arts Building). Tue-Sat 10-5.
-Lawndale Art Center (contemporary/some regional): 2711 Main St. Mon-Fri 10-5, Sat 11-6 [Rotates through over 500 artists annually]
-Houston Center for Contemporary Craft (crafting): 4848 Main St. Tue-Sat 10-5, Sun 12-5.
-DiverseWorks (visual/performing/literary arts): 1117 East Fwy. Wed-Sat 12-6.
-Menil Collection (private collection): 1515 Sul Ross. Wed-Sun 11-7.
-Contemporary Arts Museum (medieval documents. Just kidding.): 5216 Montrose. Wed + Fri 11-7, Thu 11-9, Sat + Sun 11-6.

There are a lot of small theaters I haven't checked out a whole lot yet, but I promise there will be more info on those in the future! I hope this helps anyone who has an empty rainy afternoon.

Sara

Picture of The Day

What a beautiful place to live Houston sometimes is.

Sara

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Picture of The Day

Today, I went to galleries on Main Street. This was at CTRL gallery. Houston has so many cool galleries that nobody knows about!

Sara

Heard at: Open Mike Night at Taft Street Coffee

Today, a friend and I went to open mike night. It always calms me down, the combination of coffee and poetry and music (good or bad). Here are some phrases I overheard while seated on a barstool drinking my coffee and listening:

"I don't have candles on the tables right now, I'm sorry." "WE DON'T CARE." "I don't have money for candles right now." "I'll buy you candles!"

"I'm seriously considering going home and taping shoelaces to my ceiling."

"If you use those shoelaces of life, you will climb that fucking mountain. And you won't get rocks in your shoes."

"Dear Mr. Frank Lloyd Wright, You're the sum of your parts."

"This all comes from the god of being drunk and high, more high than drunk, more drunk than you."

The glorious stage.

Sara

Rants About English Class

Every day, I go to school. I have done this for twelve years -- up early, woken by alarm, fumbling to dress in the half-dark of the early morning. Every day, I step into a classroom labelled by my flimsy paper schedule as “ENGLISH.” And sigh.

See, at the beginning of each year I have palpable excitement regarding school -- specifically, my English class. Who will my teacher be? What will we learn? What forays will we make into creative writing and literature? I lie in my bed the night of August 22nd, tense and excited, running through the possibilities in my head of actually writing.

Then I go into school on the first day and my teacher tells us that our first unit will be over basic grammar.

I think I’ve got the grammar down.

Noun: A girl. No wait, that’s not specific enough.

Proper noun: Sara Balabanlilar. That’s me.

Verb: to be. Only conjugated. So, is.

Adverb: Severely.

Adjective: Disappointed.

Let’s move on, shall we?

As the year goes on, I find myself growing more and more bothered. Where are the discussions? Where are the heated debates about the psychological death of the main character in 1984? And the greatest question of all -- when will we venture into the massive, intriguing, and as of yet uncharted world of INTERNATIONAL LITERATURE?

What are you saying? More... More antiquated American literature? And English? Droning lectures summarizing what I can read by myself?

Alright.

But see, it’s the disparity that hurts. Between what I see in the lit journals and what I see in my English class.

It hurts.

Sara

Monday, October 18, 2010

Picture of The Day

Sara

Picture of The Day (pretend I posted this last night)

My seat on the train.

Sara

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Picture of The Day

I checked out the stores on 3600 block Main st. Today. This is Tacos A Go Go. Hopefully soon you'll be able to check out Insight, the Chronicle Classroom's online paper, for a full photo montage of my Main Street voyage today.

One more thing! I now have a twitter account. Check out the_window_seat for events happening in Houston.

Sara

Azure Ray Concert

Yesterday evening I went to a concert of Azure Ray with two of my friends. It was at Walter's on Washington, a venue I've never been to before. We stepped out and were immediately confronted by a yellow school bus carefully labeled as a burger bus. A burger bus? I took a picture and the man working there exclaimed that I should buy a cheeseburger in return. I promised I would sometime. Now I owe a man with a meat-toting vehicle a visit. Walter's is quite wonderful -- it's rather shabby, an old white wooden building with plain lettering: "WALTER'S ON WASHINGTON." We stepped in and were greeted by music, being only about fifteen minutes late for the beginning of the concert. The place was filled with a youngish crowd, lots of dyed black hair, tattoos, converses. The floors were cement, the walls were covered in stickers, and the stage was small and close to the audience.

There were two opening bands -- James Husband and Nik Freitas. Both were wonderful, singer-songwriter guys.

And then, the main act came on. Azure Ray. The two women (Maria Taylor and Orenda Fink) started up in Georgia in 2001, and after a break, have come back together, produced a new cd and are touring the country. Their music is ethereal, as American dream-pop is by definition, accompanied by electric guitar, mandolin, cello, and occasionally bass. I sincerely recommend you (all of you out there reading this) check it out.

Because of the small crowd that is the nature of Walter's, the atmosphere was close and casual. A few people held beers, but even by the end of the night no one seemed outrageously drunk or rowdy. The sound quality was surprisingly good, and not too loud. Taylor herself commented that it was "exponentially the best" of the experiences they'd had on the tour yet.

I took a few pictures. Unfortunately, the quality of my camera in the darkness is terrible.

James Husband

Nik Freitas and his drum machine

Azure Ray

Overhearing conversations in high school, the topic seems often to be the same. “Did you see that TV show last night?” Shouts bounce from the walls and lockers as students argue about and discuss the latest episode of Jersey Shore or Dancing With the Stars. I stay quiet, sliding my notebooks, binders, and novel of the day into my bag. Truth is, I haven’t watched TV in years.

When I was a five year old living in Portland Oregon and spending my time drawing princesses, watching PBS cartoons and playing on the swings, my kindergarten teacher had an epiphany.

“This week,” she stated with enthusiasm to the group of face-making, candy-chewing, wandering-eyed kindergarteners, “is TV-free week.” We stared in shock as she continued to explain. “Go home to your parents and tell them that you can’t watch TV. It’s bad for your mind.”

My mother was not so enthused. Looking back on it, I realize that she must have pulled her hair out in dismay as she realized that her last moments of free time would soon disappear into the whirlwind that is having a child. Dutifully, she put the remote on a high shelf.

In the next week, I did everything to avoid sitting in front of the TV. I unearthed crayons, picture books, and dolls. I had tea parties with stuffed animals and sang while leaping around the house. When the end of the week came, I had forgotten about television altogether.

And so it continued. Year by year I found activities to fill my time. I drew picture after picture, filling notebooks. I became an avid reader, practically reducing my library card to dust and straining my eyes in the half-dark of late night flashlight reading sessions. I discovered music, spending hours in local record stores and online searching for songs I hadn’t heard yet. With middle school came homework to wedge into my last gaps of time.

People around me continued to narrate their after-school lives of dropping backpacks off at the door and slouching to the sofa to watch, slack-jawed and bleary-eyed, the latest reality shows and cartoons. But when I asked them about the latest events in our city or new books they’d read, they drew a blank.

Meanwhile, I had time to explore my environment and myself. More notebooks were filled as I documented the angst and trying times of being a teenager, wrote short stories and poetry, and analyzed current politics and news. I made great friends with some of my peers; I was able to bounce story ideas and philosophies of life off them and vise versa over cups of coffee at the bookstore.

“Quitting” TV is perhaps one of the best decisions I’ve made. Don’t get me wrong, I spend time on the internet and hanging out with friends like everyone else. But without hours of staring at the television screen, I’ve found time to become a more wholesome, multi-faceted person.

Sara

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

News Bit of The Day

This is basically an extra for my previous entry:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101006/pl_yblog_upshot/stars-urge-gay-teens-not-to-take-their-own-lives

This was my world today. The sky was so blue, it looked like it was freshly painted.

Sara

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

On the recent spike of "bullycides"*

This past weekend, I've been writing an editorial about the recent suicides of GLBT (gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender/sexual) teens. Admittedly, it's a hard thing to write about for multiple reasons. Reading the news articles pertaining to these deaths often leaves me in tears.
As president of the Gay-Straight Alliance at my school, I’m often the one to get the up close and personal view of those who are unsure of themselves or gay and struggling in school. Our club has gotten angry emails regarding optional and tolerance-centric events such as the Day of Silence, which makes public the silence that many gay and lesbian kids feel every day in their homes and schools. I’ve had students come up to me and yell, “What is your problem? You all don’t need to be here.”
I connect when I hear stories of other teens having trouble in their communities. Though I (surprisingly, at least to me) haven’t experienced bullying to the levels I see on TV or in the newspaper, it’s hard to watch from such a close perspective. I’m so thankful I found the Gay-Straight Alliance at my school my sophomore year, and that I had supporters and allies who helped me make it the club and support system it is today. My heart goes out to all the young men who ceased to find joy in their lives that would outweigh the difficulties.

Sara