This and that
Aug. 24th, 2006 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumDevelopers...
I'm having fun with the program. I'm also having fun talking about it with my dad, who's in Tennessee, so we don't get to see each other much. Amusingly, because of what we've been able to do with images in this program, he's half sorry he sold me the 4x5 camera. On the flip side they have been fixing problems as we find them, and some of the new builds aren't as complete as some of the previous ones. It's the way it goes, and no real surprise. Happily the structural mechanics aren't really changing, so the text doesn't need to be revised, much, as things change.
In other news, we went to SLO last weekend. I was going to go, because Russ had his ni-dan exam (second degree black belt; ranks approaching black belt have descending numbers, black belt up have ascending numbers), but since we had a few things to collect (they were unavailable when Maia went up a month ago) we took the truck and made a weekend of it.
I didn't go camping with Maia the week before. It seemed best, given that we had one more person than we had mounts, and I have some personal problems with how such trips work. I'd have liked to go (and would have had fun) but it was probably for the best that I stay home, so that's what we decided I would do.
So Maia got back on Friday, and we got up too damned early on Saturday and headed north. She slept while I drove. On Thursday I'd discovered that Doran-sensei was doing more than just come down to preside over Russ' exam/demonstration (in part because the level of skill demanded to move from one level of black belt to the next, and in part because the judges on the panel don't get to see the candidate very often, exams beyond Dan are not as sure a thing as the exams below Dan. A fifth-degree black belt is the lowest rank allowed to preside over a ni-dan exam, there aren't that many of them. Doran-sensei is a seventh). He was also going to lead a five hour seminar.
That was gravy (there was no way I was going to miss Russ' exam. I may not be able to attend Aikido of SLO very ofen, but it's still my home dojo). So at 0930 we pulled up, and I saw what I expected; the Saturday morning class was cancelled, as a massive misogi was being conducted.
So we swept, and dusted, and arranged flowers, and swabbed the mat, and flogged it dry. Scott said he'd been thinking of me the day before, because they needed a still photographer for Sunday.
Afterward Maia and I went to breakfast, and headed to Webb's, where we got her stall mats, and a few bottles of wine. We then we headed back to Grover Beach, emptied the stuff, cleaned up the last bits of the yard (I watered the plants, which had been neglected, the bunch grass; a native, was damn near dead. The lavendar was hanging on).
After that we headed to town, and dinner with Drina, her mother, Brock (her boyfriend) and Bess, her former roommate (when Brock's roomie left, she moved took up the lease). Webb joined us. We were at the, newly opened, California Pizza Kitchen. We had a bottle of Webb's 2003 Zinfandel; they charged us no corkage. I figure they just forgot. It was good. Very fruity, and in another year or two it ought to be really good.
We spent the night in a camper at Webb's, and then headed in to town, where I got some coffee to go with my leftover pizza while Maia was at meeting. I discovered, while walking to "Uptown Espresso" that Pismo and Santa Rosa is where strangers stop their cars to aske me directions. The weekend we left, I was asked how to get to the Mission. That morning I was asked the way to San Simeon.
After saying hello to people after Meeting for Worship we went to the dojo.
I walked into the dojo and it was a rustling crowd of people in "skirts" (aikido, is the only non-sword art which still has practitioners wear hakama, the "split-skirt" trousers of the samurai. All schools have black-belts wear them. Some have everyone wear them. I know one which has women wear them from day one, but men only get them at black-belt. Ours has those who are the level below black-belt wear them.). There were about fifty people there. At the most crowded I don't think I've seen more than 35 people. I've certainly never been on a mat which was more than 60 percent black-belts.
So we stretched. Then we knelt and he started to teach. He has the most delicate manner. I don't know how old he is, not less than 65, and he is slow, deliberate, and solid. He has been doing aikido since at least 1965 (the dojo I am going to look at on Monday is in his region of the CAA, and the sensei there says he looks to Doran-sensei as his mentor. I heard good things about him when I mentioned I was thinking of training there).
He had an uke punch at his face, he turned his trailing shoulder into the attack, stepped to the side and rested his forearm on the attacker's bicep. It was all over. The uke couldn't start anything. Then Doran-sensei moved his hand, and the uke had to fall down (well, no, he could have let himself be punched in the face).
The entire day was lots of that, soft movement, maintaining center and putting the off-balanced attacker so off-balance as to be no longer upright. The only time he dealt with me directly, was to show my partner (and so me, I don't think I was the least ranked person on the matt, but with a white-belt, who can say?, certainly no one can just assume I wasn't) how to apply sankyo (third teaching. All the "teachings" are about controlling the elbow). He held my hand, softly, as a parent, or grandparent would. Nothing hard, not even all that firmly. Most men shake my hand with more force than he took it.
He then shifted, some subtle little change, and my elbow; and therefore, all of me, was at his command.
At various points he caused people to fall down by pointing his finger at them. If one has never been the object of that level of focus, of someone so stable that they are immovable, and then pressing out from that center, then it's incredible. It looks as though the uke is just giving up.
After an hour an-a-half we took a break, and Russ was called out to demonstrate. It was an intense 40 minutes. From his knees; while his partner was also kneeling, and when the partner was standing, when he was standing. He was made to make high throws, to deal with attackers, possessed of a sword, or a stick. He had to deal with an attacker who kept coming (jiu waza or flowing movement) and he had to deal with three attackers rushing him (randori. After that he had to do a simple demonstration of suwari waza kokyu-ho which is the last part of any demonstration. It's kneeling, having your hands grabbed and extending oneself, so the uke has to roll away. One follows the uke, and prevents recovery.
He was splendid.
The rest of the day was wonderful. It didn't seem to matter that the last time I'd been on the mat was the evening of my demonstration. I wasn't even that sore on Monday, nor yet on Tuesday.
There were times he was stepping into a pair, while we were working on the thing he had most recently taught, and gave advice (the moment above was one of those) and some of those became spectator events. The dojo would just slow down and a circle of attention would happen. Once he teased us, "I'm the only one training," and there was a sigh, and a low chuckle round the room and we went back to work.
As the sessions went on, the crowd thinned. By days end it was no more than a busy day on the mat (not so intimate as just three people, nor so insane as the 50ish at the days beginning, when throwing wasn't possible, so we would stop when balance was just shy of being completely taken).
I got to train with lots of very good aikidoka some of whom I think I recall from 14 years ago in Monterey. Differences in style, and in flexibility, and in attitude were abundant. I got to see the best people in my dojo working with people who are, at least, their equals. I saw them having small epiphanies, and managed to absorb some of that by reflection (I had no breakthrough moments. I wasn't skilled enough to make those leaps.If nothing else, being able to play with so many new people made the time worth the aches and pains, though I know why Chris says such events intimidate him.
I took a few minutes, here and there, to convert the pictures I took of Russ, and Doran-sensei, to .jpgs. Maia took pictures at the end of day group photo, and those were made into .tifs. I gave copies to Mary, and to Russ.
So I got to see old friends, and watch Russ demonstrate, and work with Frank Doran. It was a weekend well worth the time and effort.
I'm having fun with the program. I'm also having fun talking about it with my dad, who's in Tennessee, so we don't get to see each other much. Amusingly, because of what we've been able to do with images in this program, he's half sorry he sold me the 4x5 camera. On the flip side they have been fixing problems as we find them, and some of the new builds aren't as complete as some of the previous ones. It's the way it goes, and no real surprise. Happily the structural mechanics aren't really changing, so the text doesn't need to be revised, much, as things change.
In other news, we went to SLO last weekend. I was going to go, because Russ had his ni-dan exam (second degree black belt; ranks approaching black belt have descending numbers, black belt up have ascending numbers), but since we had a few things to collect (they were unavailable when Maia went up a month ago) we took the truck and made a weekend of it.
I didn't go camping with Maia the week before. It seemed best, given that we had one more person than we had mounts, and I have some personal problems with how such trips work. I'd have liked to go (and would have had fun) but it was probably for the best that I stay home, so that's what we decided I would do.
So Maia got back on Friday, and we got up too damned early on Saturday and headed north. She slept while I drove. On Thursday I'd discovered that Doran-sensei was doing more than just come down to preside over Russ' exam/demonstration (in part because the level of skill demanded to move from one level of black belt to the next, and in part because the judges on the panel don't get to see the candidate very often, exams beyond Dan are not as sure a thing as the exams below Dan. A fifth-degree black belt is the lowest rank allowed to preside over a ni-dan exam, there aren't that many of them. Doran-sensei is a seventh). He was also going to lead a five hour seminar.
That was gravy (there was no way I was going to miss Russ' exam. I may not be able to attend Aikido of SLO very ofen, but it's still my home dojo). So at 0930 we pulled up, and I saw what I expected; the Saturday morning class was cancelled, as a massive misogi was being conducted.
So we swept, and dusted, and arranged flowers, and swabbed the mat, and flogged it dry. Scott said he'd been thinking of me the day before, because they needed a still photographer for Sunday.
Afterward Maia and I went to breakfast, and headed to Webb's, where we got her stall mats, and a few bottles of wine. We then we headed back to Grover Beach, emptied the stuff, cleaned up the last bits of the yard (I watered the plants, which had been neglected, the bunch grass; a native, was damn near dead. The lavendar was hanging on).
After that we headed to town, and dinner with Drina, her mother, Brock (her boyfriend) and Bess, her former roommate (when Brock's roomie left, she moved took up the lease). Webb joined us. We were at the, newly opened, California Pizza Kitchen. We had a bottle of Webb's 2003 Zinfandel; they charged us no corkage. I figure they just forgot. It was good. Very fruity, and in another year or two it ought to be really good.
We spent the night in a camper at Webb's, and then headed in to town, where I got some coffee to go with my leftover pizza while Maia was at meeting. I discovered, while walking to "Uptown Espresso" that Pismo and Santa Rosa is where strangers stop their cars to aske me directions. The weekend we left, I was asked how to get to the Mission. That morning I was asked the way to San Simeon.
After saying hello to people after Meeting for Worship we went to the dojo.
I walked into the dojo and it was a rustling crowd of people in "skirts" (aikido, is the only non-sword art which still has practitioners wear hakama, the "split-skirt" trousers of the samurai. All schools have black-belts wear them. Some have everyone wear them. I know one which has women wear them from day one, but men only get them at black-belt. Ours has those who are the level below black-belt wear them.). There were about fifty people there. At the most crowded I don't think I've seen more than 35 people. I've certainly never been on a mat which was more than 60 percent black-belts.
So we stretched. Then we knelt and he started to teach. He has the most delicate manner. I don't know how old he is, not less than 65, and he is slow, deliberate, and solid. He has been doing aikido since at least 1965 (the dojo I am going to look at on Monday is in his region of the CAA, and the sensei there says he looks to Doran-sensei as his mentor. I heard good things about him when I mentioned I was thinking of training there).
He had an uke punch at his face, he turned his trailing shoulder into the attack, stepped to the side and rested his forearm on the attacker's bicep. It was all over. The uke couldn't start anything. Then Doran-sensei moved his hand, and the uke had to fall down (well, no, he could have let himself be punched in the face).
The entire day was lots of that, soft movement, maintaining center and putting the off-balanced attacker so off-balance as to be no longer upright. The only time he dealt with me directly, was to show my partner (and so me, I don't think I was the least ranked person on the matt, but with a white-belt, who can say?, certainly no one can just assume I wasn't) how to apply sankyo (third teaching. All the "teachings" are about controlling the elbow). He held my hand, softly, as a parent, or grandparent would. Nothing hard, not even all that firmly. Most men shake my hand with more force than he took it.
He then shifted, some subtle little change, and my elbow; and therefore, all of me, was at his command.
At various points he caused people to fall down by pointing his finger at them. If one has never been the object of that level of focus, of someone so stable that they are immovable, and then pressing out from that center, then it's incredible. It looks as though the uke is just giving up.
After an hour an-a-half we took a break, and Russ was called out to demonstrate. It was an intense 40 minutes. From his knees; while his partner was also kneeling, and when the partner was standing, when he was standing. He was made to make high throws, to deal with attackers, possessed of a sword, or a stick. He had to deal with an attacker who kept coming (jiu waza or flowing movement) and he had to deal with three attackers rushing him (randori. After that he had to do a simple demonstration of suwari waza kokyu-ho which is the last part of any demonstration. It's kneeling, having your hands grabbed and extending oneself, so the uke has to roll away. One follows the uke, and prevents recovery.
He was splendid.
The rest of the day was wonderful. It didn't seem to matter that the last time I'd been on the mat was the evening of my demonstration. I wasn't even that sore on Monday, nor yet on Tuesday.
There were times he was stepping into a pair, while we were working on the thing he had most recently taught, and gave advice (the moment above was one of those) and some of those became spectator events. The dojo would just slow down and a circle of attention would happen. Once he teased us, "I'm the only one training," and there was a sigh, and a low chuckle round the room and we went back to work.
As the sessions went on, the crowd thinned. By days end it was no more than a busy day on the mat (not so intimate as just three people, nor so insane as the 50ish at the days beginning, when throwing wasn't possible, so we would stop when balance was just shy of being completely taken).
I got to train with lots of very good aikidoka some of whom I think I recall from 14 years ago in Monterey. Differences in style, and in flexibility, and in attitude were abundant. I got to see the best people in my dojo working with people who are, at least, their equals. I saw them having small epiphanies, and managed to absorb some of that by reflection (I had no breakthrough moments. I wasn't skilled enough to make those leaps.If nothing else, being able to play with so many new people made the time worth the aches and pains, though I know why Chris says such events intimidate him.
I took a few minutes, here and there, to convert the pictures I took of Russ, and Doran-sensei, to .jpgs. Maia took pictures at the end of day group photo, and those were made into .tifs. I gave copies to Mary, and to Russ.
So I got to see old friends, and watch Russ demonstrate, and work with Frank Doran. It was a weekend well worth the time and effort.
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Date: 2006-08-25 08:25 am (UTC)TK