Still trying to get into the routine, I spent most of this week continuing to process and describe the Bai T. Moore correspondence. Thirteen hours of arrangement and description all alone in an attic began to feel strange by the end of the week. For most of the time, I was completely alone and the building was very quiet. The biggest issue that I had this week was trying to find nearby parking or riding my bike to work without delay.

For the processing part of the week, I continued to separate correspondence according to subject, but if there was not any subject, I placed the correspondence in the folders labeled by letter. I believe that starting with the correspondence is the best way to get to know the topics and names associated with a particular collection and then move through the collection from there. Processing correspondence can also be very interesting, so it is necessary to prevent yourself from reading every letter. But there is also a need to skim through the correspondence in an attempt to arrange it most accurately and to make it most accessible for researchers.

As the correspondence began to take shape, I started to get a little confused because of the overlapping subjects, names, and dates, but at some point, I realized that a quick and logical decision is better than time spent over-analyzing the arrangement. There must be a balance between the amount of time spent processing and the amount of time it takes to provide access to the materials. There seems to be a need to find balance in many areas of archival work.

There is also another aspect of my work with the Liberian Collections Project that I find interesting: This repository does not do any appraisal, meaning that it does not weed out or destroy anything from its collections. I have always believed that this is the most honest way to represent the historical truth, but I also realize that there is a point when we must ask how much time and space we have to do appraisal or keep everything. After working with the correspondence from this collection, there was not one paper or even a fragment that I would have found it beneficial to weed out…but I have also felt that way with other collections with which I have worked. Maybe I have felt that appraisal is sometimes unnecessary because I just have not come across the collection with blank sheets or twenty copies of the same document yet, or worked with a repository with limited space for its collections.

The first week of my Internship was interesting because every work environment is different… especially those of archives and special collections. The Liberian Collections Project contains many very dirty, burnt, and brittle objects. My first assignment was to begin working on processing the Bai T. Moore (BTM) collection. In the past, I had some experience processing government officials’ collections, but the extent of my work had only been for a few hours, one day a week, during one semester. So, this new experience would really get me involved in the process to a larger extent and have me working with a much larger and more significant collection. One of the reasons that I wanted to work for the Liberian Collections Project is because I have often dreamed of traveling the world and helping people from various cultures preserve their heritage and history.

Before processing the BTM Collection, and after completing paperwork, I was asked to watch several documentaries about Liberia. I had researched Liberia prior to inquiring about the internship, but there was actually more to the documentaries than to my prior text-based research because the visual examination of the country’s history offered a completely new perspective. My new boss had warned me about the violent imagery in the documentaries, but in my previous studies of various wars, I had seen worse. The documentaries were very interesting and really helped me grasp a few ideas and events that were more difficult to comprehend from a text-based study.

After completing the visual historical research, I began arranging and describing the collection correspondence. I was given a tour of the building, met a few of the folklore department staff, and received a pencil, a few sticky notes, a pad of paper, and the repository rules and procedures. I had one large box of correspondence that had not been kept in its original order, mainly because there was very little original order to begin with. Some of the collection had come from a chest of scattered papers. Thinking back to some of the readings and assignments from the Introduction to Archives course that I had taken in my first semester, I started to plan how and where to begin. I knew that my bosses wanted me to arrange the correspondence alphabetically, by last name or any name, but other than that, I had to devise a plan to begin arranging. Since there was not any original order of the papers, I could arrange them in any way that fit into the alphabetical scheme. As I began sorting the correspondence by last name, I created new folders that would hold several letters of the alphabet, such as “A-C” and started with the first folder in the box. To add to the difficulty in arrangement, there were many other boxes that had previously been arranged into varied subjects; so I started to skim through the boxes in the collection to see if any of the correspondence might relate to those subjects. I then began to alphabetically arrange all official correspondence and papers related to other subjects in the collection into separate folders by topic.

I was really excited about the project, as Bai T. Moore was a fascinating person and very significant to presenting and retaining information from the various Liberian Cultures.

Has it really been nearly a year since I have posted to my blog? I guess that I really have been busy with work and grad school, and playing with new Web tools. I apologize for abandoning this project…and leaving the Web with yet another slog. I promise to take care of the poor slog more often from now on, and rebuild it to be a blog again. I am going to start posting about my weekly internship experiences…and of course I will include something about toys, films, etc.

Ah, the life of an American student archivist – No sleep, very little eating, too much work. I do admit that even though I adore my city, professors, bosses, and colleagues, I am dreaming of the end of my next semester and getting to work. Until then, I work.

For Saint Nicholas Day I received a vinyl record recorder that allows me to record from my old albums to my computer, and manipulate sounds via some great software.  I had wanted one of the devices for some time because I own a large collection of rare old school punk and alternative records, as well as many strange and interesting 1970s and 80s albums, including Strawberry Shortcake, Spiderman, and other read-along albums.  I wanted to find a way to eliminate some of my lesser enjoyed items and also preserve the records that are very rare. 

So, I first tried the device on some horrid old folk/dance record that I had never been able to bring myself to listen to, fearing that hearing it would bring some great evil into the world.  The artist’s image on the cover was enough to make one cringe, laugh, and cry with a glance, by merely being of her time.  I had acquired the album when I was bequeathed a large pile of records remaining at the end of a garage sale.  

Starting with the first song, I listened along as the vinyl crackled its beautiful crackle, which happened to be the best sound that would come from the record until I digitally manipulated it as unrecognizable.  The first sound that the artists made on the record sounded much like a barry white impersonation, and then a woman sang about how she had never felt like a woman before. That was enough to make me alter the sounds immediately.  

The hours following my digital experimentations left me giddy, reminding me of when I was nine and recorded and manipulated the sounds of my voice, keyboard, accordion, harmonica, and every other external noise I could find, on my broken ghetto blaster.  My old blaster was quite warped, you see, so that when I recorded with the mic I had made from an old pair of headphones, wires, and whatnots, and messed with the record and other buttons, various interesting noises and speeds could be made and transformed.  I spent many hours creating horrid noises in those days. Still, none as horrid as the never been a woman, woman.

Now, after receiving the new recording equipment and making some beautiful noises, I realize that there is one significant bit of information that I must consider, which I have recently been writing papers regarding: How can I digitally preserve all of the records that I am recording? I have studied photography and film and know about some of the issues in these areas, but I know very little about preserving digital sound files. Which are the best formats? Should I use an external hard drive and DVDs or CDs? How many times can I transfer these files to new formats and will they continue to have the same sound quality? Suggestions could be welcome.

My head is spinning with the thought of recording and preserving all my great, and not so great, vinyl data.  As an archival and digital libraries student, a future archivist, I feel it is my duty to find some way to preserve the rare materials that I have collected since my youth, including my comic and toy collections, but my house can no longer serve as a repository for these collections.  Will I find a worthy collector on ebay? Probably not. On Craigslist? Hrumph. 

And then, what about all of my VHS tapes of old recorded television shows. Shall I Youtube them all? Can I Youtube them all? Maybe donate them to a repository collection where their theft will be imminent (if circulation is allowed)? 

What of my manipulated recordings? Who will want that valued art? There is some heavy sarcasm in the previous sentence, but they really were fun to make. When I come up with a really good one, worthy of this slog, I will certainly post it. Until then, let us call them deselected.

After much thought about what to do about these items and the best way to preserve them, the only wisdom that came to me is this: I am not a collector, I am a keeper.

Okay, I have studied film adaptation, and I understand that a film does not need to represent a novel with the same title. But if I ever had a reason to complain about an adaptation, I found it when I watched Slaughterhouse-Five. I must admit that I was really anticipating viewing the film, and I was curious about how such a novel could be adapted…I did, however, attempt to remain open about what I was about to view.

Are there novels that should not be adapted into film? I do not believe so. Slaughterhouse-Five may be among one of the more difficult novels to adapt, merely because of the structure of the novel…but it could have been accomplished, and well. I mean, there was an attempted adaptation, but there was not a grain of depth that was inspired from the novel. Sure there were characters with the same names and sometimes they performed similar acts, but it is a necessity for an adaptation to create the same or very similar effect as its original model.

Why did the film adaptation of Vonnegut’s work make me hate Billy Pilgrim or despise him? And why did Montana Wildhack have to be so hideously annoying? I know I would have hated to spend even five minutes with that Montana, but should I not have seen her as an amazing prospect for Billy? What about the question of what was really happening to Billy? I did not even bother to ask that during the film. I only wondered why Billy had been presented as such a low-life scum. How could I ever step into his shoes or relate to his situation when I could not even understand why he would take his wife and children to see a porn film at the drive-in theater?

Even if there had not been a novel, the film would still be awful. It does not make me feel. It does not make me think. It only makes me wonder why.

Well, what can I say? I have been a little late in posting recently. I have been on vacation. I have been reading Slaughterhouse-Five for the first time. It is an amazing book. At first, I thought the book was very strange and slow, but as time went on, I enjoyed the read more and more.

Slaughterhouse-Five may be one of the best books that I have ever read. So, it took me a few months to read because I was only reading it when I was waiting in line somewhere or at some office for an appointment or another, but I feel that the delay only built my adoration for the novel. I was dying to see what would come next, and who would die, and how many times I could read “so it goes.” And so, it does. What better way to show the depths and faults and horror of war than to live in the mind of the character(s)!?

While I was reading the work, it was interesting to me that so many people had already read the book, and that they all had some strong feeling for it one way or the other. A high school student told me that it was the most boring thing she had ever picked up. Could she have been too young to get it? If I had been a high school kid when I read the book, I may have just skimmed it and thought that Vonnegut was on heavy medication when he wrote it. I MUST watch the movie now!

An older man told me that is was a very strange book and that he didn’t really understand the point. I have to believe that he must have been a teenager when he read it, or at least young enough to think that Vonnegut was at least very, very tired when he wrote it.

Well, in any case, the dark humor, terrifying images, and wonderful disarray with witch Vonnegut uses to lead us through the war is important and relevant to every war and every age of human. If we don’t get what Vonnegut is trying to say maybe we haven’t felt the terror and insanity of war, or maybe we just do not understand what we do not want to understand!?

A pal once told me that focusing on the negative brings negative things into our lives, but if we ignore them, how can we ever move past them? How can we ever grow stronger or wiser if we ignore the vagrant on the corner, the graffiti on ancient roman buildings, or the war at our doorsteps? Sometimes the ugly things in this world need to be understood. Speaking of which, aren’t we nearing Banned Books Week?

Ah, yes, Banned Books Week is arriving soon! For more information: http://www.ala.org/ala/oif/bannedbooksweek/bannedbooksweek.cfm

I am celebrating my freedom to read about war!!!

Here you will find some of the photos I have taken of IU and Indiana within the last two weeks. I had included some with my last post, but I thought I would enlighten those of you who care to be visually enlightened some more. Try to enjoy yourselves.

Remember how I mentioned that being a nomad is not fun…well, I forgot to mention that it can be fun to be a nomad if you pretend like you are a pioneer.

When I was applying to graduate schools and so many friends and colleagues suggested that I look at IU, I thought “Indiana?” I had never considered moving to Indiana before. I am not sure that I had ever even considered Indiana. But all good adventures that begin with mystery, suspense, and the unknown are likely to end in a fantastic surprise. I did fail to mention, until now of course, that I chose Indiana University sight unseen. But upon researching the MLIS programs and attributes, I dove right in and swam to the Indiana shores…er, by land. If you could see the field next to my new living space, you might believe that I could swim through the land [see the second image on this post to see if you can see it].

So, I packed up everything (including the things that I do want and more of those that I do not) and I forced family members (under pain of severe scowling) to help me move across many miles. During the move, all involved became ill due to my brother to helping us load up our covered wagon. You see, when he arrived to help, he had some illness similar to the plague, I believe.

In any case, all of the illness may have been for the better because I hardly remember the hardships that we may have incurred during the move. Okay, so the hardships were mostly due to gas prices and falling down at a rest stop, which resulted in a skinned knee, bumped head, and tearful wallet…but they were harsh.

I kept reminding my crew that things could be much worse. We had excellent weather, no pirates, no broken items (not including my smoking, flaming television), and we arrived before the floods. Yes, Indiana flooded all around us the week after we arrived, but we never saw anything larger than a huge puddle where we live. And I am ever so grateful! As I unpacked, I found many of those unneeded items, repacked them in my wagon and donated them to help those less fortunate than us. I never realized how much clothing, sheets, and barbies that I had! Did I not do this just a year ago? I thought I had given all of my unnecessary prized collections away already!

Remember that if you are going to be a nomad, adventurer, or pioneer, you must decrease your amount of accumulated items before you venture out into the wilderness.

Anyway, as we traveled many miles through fields, over hills of stone and confusing highways in large cities, I could not help but become lit with the flame of excitement. Even though I had to keep relighting my flame due to my battling the plague-like illness that was blowing the excitement out, it never went out for long.

Through Illinois, the yellow flowered fields brought us all into the rolling, flowered and forested hills of Indiana: the new place that I will call home until my nomadic feet take me elsewhere. And I must say that I am quite content to settle here until I am pulled elsewhere. The friendly people, tales of Abraham Lincoln, the amazing topography, the brilliant libraries, the great IU, the plethora of bicycle accommodations, the lake that looks like a dragon, and the state of ataraxia that I am in here are worth every penny, every hardship, and every mile I expended (and recommended others to expend) to get here.

I will never underestimate what seems like the middle of nowhere again. And I will forever be proud to attend a university that rhymes Indiana with Frangipana! That was NOT sarcasm; I swear!

I graduated. My ceremonies and gatherings were canceled due to “bad weather.” It happens. I was excited to graduate considering all of the hard work that I put into it, but I also loathe crowded events where I must present myself to the world. I mean, it is nice to be proud of all that you have accomplished and be rewarded for it, but what does it really mean? Apparently everything has a meaning, from the robe and colors graduates wear to the direction that they walk. The ceremonies are infused with meaning. I was going to try to stop myself from looking like a big black clone by wearing three different colors of cords, a medallion, and two stoles. I would have looked like a rainbow sheep. But when we go home, does the robe mean the same? I wonder what people do with their robes. I sold mine back, but kept my cap. Well, I didn’t wear it, after all. Anyway, is the attire and even the event a quest to inspire a “better than thou” attitude? Why do some people choose not to attend? Are they at home laughing at all of us who feel like we deserve some sort of pat on the back? Maybe the people who do not attend such ceremonies are merely at home washing clothes or out working at a new job and moving on in life.

I do not feel ready to move on. I am set up to go to graduate school now, having been accepted to Bloomington and Pittsburgh so far, but for the next few months I will be either working or interning while taking a class on Tolkien (Yes, I am one of those people). So, what am I moving on to? Nothing feels different yet. Due to not wanting to waste scholarship money and adoring The Hobbit and learning new information, I am still in school. I will need to find a source of income because I need money to move. And that income is of course going to be far less to none if I am chosen for the internship where I will be working at a really grand place with no pay. But I have come to a point where I must say: “What is money?”

We all need money but isn’t experience so much more? How do you know what you want to use your money to purchase? Would you know that you want to purchase a taco if you had never experienced tasting one…or maybe the thought of tasting a taco and gaining a new experience makes you spend your money. In any case, the loss of money to purchase an experience (or merely have an experience) is really nothing compared to the experience. Oh carp! I am starting to sound like a commercial. Sorry, I will give myself 30 lashings this evening for that! So, my point is that the things that we experience in life often mean so much more than what we spend or deny ourselves in order to experience them. I suppose that is why I wanted to attend graduation. Having graduated from homeschool for high school, I didn’t have the experience of walking, but I suppose I will have the chance again after graduate school.

We are our experiences – each experience, good or bad, changes who we are and who we will become. Before I attended university I thought I would become an editor, writer, or photographer, and while I do enjoy editing and I consistently crave writing and shooting photos, I discovered that I really want to work as an archivist and preservationist. I suppose it is the artist in me that wants to preserve works and put them into as many hands as possible. And I know this may be my geekiest post yet (the archivist who adores Tolkien), but without passion for what we do with our lives where are we? Maybe we are at home doing laundry instead of attending our commencement ceremonies?

I have a puppy! See…

That image was taken by my pal, Zach, by the by. We’ve named her Strawberry (although she is sometimes referred to as Puff-n-stuff or Puffberry). She was adopted from a shelter, but we think she is a Border Terrier. Regardless, we love her greatly. She never ceases to amaze me and makes me smile every day that she is with me.

This post doesn’t contain enough, if any, sarcasm or wit.  See what cute puppies do to me!!!  Poofsticks!