I got this great opportunity this week, a chance to film my T'ai Chi instructor! So, I get to play around with multi-media - don't I sound tech-savvy? - but I'm not, and the quality of this video demonstrates the extent of my abilities. Who knew there were so many different ways to format video clips? I had to create the film in Adobe Premiere Elements 3.0 (I know, I know, it's an old version) just to add credits and stuff. Then, I had render the clip to upload for the web...rendering the clip sounds like I'm trying to render some pork fat, jeez, where do these terms come from? So, I rendered the clip as a MPEG2 file and these are the results: fuzzy, blurry, lookin old and tired. Now, I am rendering it to an .avi format which, of course, is going to take hours and hours...regardless here is the blurry version. I'll post a better (I hope) version later today or tomorrow.
The Matrix look to the opening title page? I don't know. There was a lot of talk at the end of class about doing some special effects - matrix style, so that's what I went with while picking through the available templates.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
T'ai Chi Ch'uan
I got this great opportunity this week, a chance to film my T'ai Chi instructor! So, I get to play around with multi-media - don't I sound tech-savvy? - but I'm not, and the quality of this video demonstrates the extent of my abilities. Who knew there were so many different ways to format video clips? I had to create the film in Adobe Premiere Elements 3.0 (I know, I know, it's an old version) just to add credits and stuff. Then, I had render the clip to upload for the web...rendering the clip sounds like I'm trying to render some pork fat, jeez, where do these terms come from? So, I rendered the clip as a MPEG2 file and these are the results: fuzzy, blurry, lookin old and tired. Now, I am rendering it to an .avi format which, of course, is going to take hours and hours...regardless here is the blurry version. I'll post a better (I hope) version later today or tomorrow.
The Matrix look to the opening title page? I don't know. There was a lot of talk at the end of class about doing some special effects - matrix style, so that's what I went with while picking through the available templates.
The Matrix look to the opening title page? I don't know. There was a lot of talk at the end of class about doing some special effects - matrix style, so that's what I went with while picking through the available templates.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Airstream in the Snow
I just love our airstream retreat, even in the winter.
Those two tanks in front of the trailer are our only source of heat. When the furnace kicks on the noise is really loud, but I'm not complaining because it's better than no heat at all.
There is always a lot of shoveling to be done, but not before we get a chance to check out any animal tracks. It's fun to see the tracks of a mouse that jumps over and under all the logs, little tracks leading to and from the trailer. Ugh, mice. A reality I can't get away from in trailer living. There are usually deer and rabbit tracks as well.
This is picture taken years ago with my film camera. The shots had way too much light, blown out, I guess is the way to describe. Photoshopping these led to sort of a vintage feel and since these images are not current, that feels fine to me.
It used to be so difficult going to the trailer in the winter. Sometimes we couldn't even get into the driveway because of the piles of snow left by the plow. Let me tell ya, there's a lot of shoveling to do just to get the vehicle off the road. Having the Jeep changed a lot in terms of access. But, it was cross country skiing that got us to retreat more to the trailer in the winter.
Here's the routine:
We arrive in the early afternoon and shovel our way into the trailer. We unload our supplies after we get the furnace going. Then, we take off for the ski trails. The exertion warms me up, and the few hours we are away skiing gives the trailer time to warm enough to take the heavy winter coats off. Turning on the oven to cook some dinner adds to the heating of the trailer. But, it never quite gets warm enough until the next day. The first night the walls and the floor of the trailer remain cold, cold, and cold.
Why does all this matter? Why do you care? Why do i care? Well, for one, I have a much greater appreciation for the heat that is constantly running through our home in the city. Second, I have a much greater appreciation for those that live in these somewhat remote situations all year around. We are lucky that we have propane tanks, but it sure leads to a frozen night if we run out of propane, which has happened more than once. Thankfully, there is a place in town where we can fill up. I can't even imagine how much work people must put into having enough fuel if heating a cabin with a wood stove. Third, it does a body good to be out of its comfort zone. I feel like I'm hardy after a winter weekend at the trailer. Fourth, and last, I get a different way of existing in the winter, a way that gets me outside in the winter, a chance to get away from the tedium of going from one heated place to another, stepping away from the routine of home to store or home to office each day.
Those two tanks in front of the trailer are our only source of heat. When the furnace kicks on the noise is really loud, but I'm not complaining because it's better than no heat at all.
There is always a lot of shoveling to be done, but not before we get a chance to check out any animal tracks. It's fun to see the tracks of a mouse that jumps over and under all the logs, little tracks leading to and from the trailer. Ugh, mice. A reality I can't get away from in trailer living. There are usually deer and rabbit tracks as well.
This is picture taken years ago with my film camera. The shots had way too much light, blown out, I guess is the way to describe. Photoshopping these led to sort of a vintage feel and since these images are not current, that feels fine to me.
It used to be so difficult going to the trailer in the winter. Sometimes we couldn't even get into the driveway because of the piles of snow left by the plow. Let me tell ya, there's a lot of shoveling to do just to get the vehicle off the road. Having the Jeep changed a lot in terms of access. But, it was cross country skiing that got us to retreat more to the trailer in the winter.
Here's the routine:
We arrive in the early afternoon and shovel our way into the trailer. We unload our supplies after we get the furnace going. Then, we take off for the ski trails. The exertion warms me up, and the few hours we are away skiing gives the trailer time to warm enough to take the heavy winter coats off. Turning on the oven to cook some dinner adds to the heating of the trailer. But, it never quite gets warm enough until the next day. The first night the walls and the floor of the trailer remain cold, cold, and cold.
Why does all this matter? Why do you care? Why do i care? Well, for one, I have a much greater appreciation for the heat that is constantly running through our home in the city. Second, I have a much greater appreciation for those that live in these somewhat remote situations all year around. We are lucky that we have propane tanks, but it sure leads to a frozen night if we run out of propane, which has happened more than once. Thankfully, there is a place in town where we can fill up. I can't even imagine how much work people must put into having enough fuel if heating a cabin with a wood stove. Third, it does a body good to be out of its comfort zone. I feel like I'm hardy after a winter weekend at the trailer. Fourth, and last, I get a different way of existing in the winter, a way that gets me outside in the winter, a chance to get away from the tedium of going from one heated place to another, stepping away from the routine of home to store or home to office each day.
Airstream in the Snow
I just love our airstream retreat, even in the winter.
Those two tanks in front of the trailer are our only source of heat. When the furnace kicks on the noise is really loud, but I'm not complaining because it's better than no heat at all.
There is always a lot of shoveling to be done, but not before we get a chance to check out any animal tracks. It's fun to see the tracks of a mouse that jumps over and under all the logs, little tracks leading to and from the trailer. Ugh, mice. A reality I can't get away from in trailer living. There are usually deer and rabbit tracks as well.
This is picture taken years ago with my film camera. The shots had way too much light, blown out, I guess is the way to describe. Photoshopping these led to sort of a vintage feel and since these images are not current, that feels fine to me.
It used to be so difficult going to the trailer in the winter. Sometimes we couldn't even get into the driveway because of the piles of snow left by the plow. Let me tell ya, there's a lot of shoveling to do just to get the vehicle off the road. Having the Jeep changed a lot in terms of access. But, it was cross country skiing that got us to retreat more to the trailer in the winter.
Here's the routine:
We arrive in the early afternoon and shovel our way into the trailer. We unload our supplies after we get the furnace going. Then, we take off for the ski trails. The exertion warms me up, and the few hours we are away skiing gives the trailer time to warm enough to take the heavy winter coats off. Turning on the oven to cook some dinner adds to the heating of the trailer. But, it never quite gets warm enough until the next day. The first night the walls and the floor of the trailer remain cold, cold, and cold.
Why does all this matter? Why do you care? Why do i care? Well, for one, I have a much greater appreciation for the heat that is constantly running through our home in the city. Second, I have a much greater appreciation for those that live in these somewhat remote situations all year around. We are lucky that we have propane tanks, but it sure leads to a frozen night if we run out of propane, which has happened more than once. Thankfully, there is a place in town where we can fill up. I can't even imagine how much work people must put into having enough fuel if heating a cabin with a wood stove. Third, it does a body good to be out of its comfort zone. I feel like I'm hardy after a winter weekend at the trailer. Fourth, and last, I get a different way of existing in the winter, a way that gets me outside in the winter, a chance to get away from the tedium of going from one heated place to another, stepping away from the routine of home to store or home to office each day.
Those two tanks in front of the trailer are our only source of heat. When the furnace kicks on the noise is really loud, but I'm not complaining because it's better than no heat at all.
There is always a lot of shoveling to be done, but not before we get a chance to check out any animal tracks. It's fun to see the tracks of a mouse that jumps over and under all the logs, little tracks leading to and from the trailer. Ugh, mice. A reality I can't get away from in trailer living. There are usually deer and rabbit tracks as well.
This is picture taken years ago with my film camera. The shots had way too much light, blown out, I guess is the way to describe. Photoshopping these led to sort of a vintage feel and since these images are not current, that feels fine to me.
It used to be so difficult going to the trailer in the winter. Sometimes we couldn't even get into the driveway because of the piles of snow left by the plow. Let me tell ya, there's a lot of shoveling to do just to get the vehicle off the road. Having the Jeep changed a lot in terms of access. But, it was cross country skiing that got us to retreat more to the trailer in the winter.
Here's the routine:
We arrive in the early afternoon and shovel our way into the trailer. We unload our supplies after we get the furnace going. Then, we take off for the ski trails. The exertion warms me up, and the few hours we are away skiing gives the trailer time to warm enough to take the heavy winter coats off. Turning on the oven to cook some dinner adds to the heating of the trailer. But, it never quite gets warm enough until the next day. The first night the walls and the floor of the trailer remain cold, cold, and cold.
Why does all this matter? Why do you care? Why do i care? Well, for one, I have a much greater appreciation for the heat that is constantly running through our home in the city. Second, I have a much greater appreciation for those that live in these somewhat remote situations all year around. We are lucky that we have propane tanks, but it sure leads to a frozen night if we run out of propane, which has happened more than once. Thankfully, there is a place in town where we can fill up. I can't even imagine how much work people must put into having enough fuel if heating a cabin with a wood stove. Third, it does a body good to be out of its comfort zone. I feel like I'm hardy after a winter weekend at the trailer. Fourth, and last, I get a different way of existing in the winter, a way that gets me outside in the winter, a chance to get away from the tedium of going from one heated place to another, stepping away from the routine of home to store or home to office each day.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The remaining squash
These squash got away from me this past winter. I wasn't able to cook them when they were at their peak, and now that it's March, they have lightened up quite a bit, so to me, they are now inedible. I put them out for the squirrels on Saturday morning. The ones in the backyard (yes, there's more that were not eaten) were devoured by the squirrels by that afternoon. They haven't found the ones that are in the front yard. Yet.
I placed these three in my front garden with the hopes that the remaining seeds will somehow take root. Perhaps I'll get a chance to grow my own this year. I've seen squash and zucchini growing out of the lush nutrients of a compost pile - a big surprise to the owner of that compost pile. I'm sort of applying the same theory here.
But, beyond that, I think they add a bright splash of color in the dirtying whiteness of the snow that blankets the city. Perhaps something a little quirky and interesting to look at for all those neighbors walking by.
I admit that I had gotten a lot of strange looks when I moved my vegetable garden to the front of the house in a neighborhood full of immaculate front lawns. But over the years, I've worked in perennials around the spots designated for vegetables and herbs. And since I'm spending more time hanging in the front yard, there has been more opportunity to get to know my neighbors, and many of the new ones in the area have voiced support for de-lawning my yard.
I like to bake the squash in the oven and serve them as soup bowls. This soup is wild rice with potatoes and carrots.
The first year that I discovered how yummy squash was the year I was still visiting the local farmer's market. I got a whole grocery bag full of smaller sized squash for $5! They lasted all winter and were the perfect size for a two-person household. Since then, I've been getting a variety of different squash from my CSA. I don't have a need to go to the farmers market any more as my veggies are being delivered to my neighborhood by a local farmer.
Maybe this year, I'll get the chance to grow my own. The time to start seeds for the garden is swiftly approaching. While starting seeds can be a refreshing experience, it is also a time of nervousness. Will the weather cooperate? Have I started my seeds too soon, or too late? Do I have enough space on the inside for all the seeds I want to start?
The uncertainties and possibilities are endless.
I placed these three in my front garden with the hopes that the remaining seeds will somehow take root. Perhaps I'll get a chance to grow my own this year. I've seen squash and zucchini growing out of the lush nutrients of a compost pile - a big surprise to the owner of that compost pile. I'm sort of applying the same theory here.
But, beyond that, I think they add a bright splash of color in the dirtying whiteness of the snow that blankets the city. Perhaps something a little quirky and interesting to look at for all those neighbors walking by.
I admit that I had gotten a lot of strange looks when I moved my vegetable garden to the front of the house in a neighborhood full of immaculate front lawns. But over the years, I've worked in perennials around the spots designated for vegetables and herbs. And since I'm spending more time hanging in the front yard, there has been more opportunity to get to know my neighbors, and many of the new ones in the area have voiced support for de-lawning my yard.
I like to bake the squash in the oven and serve them as soup bowls. This soup is wild rice with potatoes and carrots.
The first year that I discovered how yummy squash was the year I was still visiting the local farmer's market. I got a whole grocery bag full of smaller sized squash for $5! They lasted all winter and were the perfect size for a two-person household. Since then, I've been getting a variety of different squash from my CSA. I don't have a need to go to the farmers market any more as my veggies are being delivered to my neighborhood by a local farmer.
Maybe this year, I'll get the chance to grow my own. The time to start seeds for the garden is swiftly approaching. While starting seeds can be a refreshing experience, it is also a time of nervousness. Will the weather cooperate? Have I started my seeds too soon, or too late? Do I have enough space on the inside for all the seeds I want to start?
The uncertainties and possibilities are endless.
The remaining squash
These squash got away from me this past winter. I wasn't able to cook them when they were at their peak, and now that it's March, they have lightened up quite a bit, so to me, they are now inedible. I put them out for the squirrels on Saturday morning. The ones in the backyard (yes, there's more that were not eaten) were devoured by the squirrels by that afternoon. They haven't found the ones that are in the front yard. Yet.
I placed these three in my front garden with the hopes that the remaining seeds will somehow take root. Perhaps I'll get a chance to grow my own this year. I've seen squash and zucchini growing out of the lush nutrients of a compost pile - a big surprise to the owner of that compost pile. I'm sort of applying the same theory here.
But, beyond that, I think they add a bright splash of color in the dirtying whiteness of the snow that blankets the city. Perhaps something a little quirky and interesting to look at for all those neighbors walking by.
I admit that I had gotten a lot of strange looks when I moved my vegetable garden to the front of the house in a neighborhood full of immaculate front lawns. But over the years, I've worked in perennials around the spots designated for vegetables and herbs. And since I'm spending more time hanging in the front yard, there has been more opportunity to get to know my neighbors, and many of the new ones in the area have voiced support for de-lawning my yard.
I like to bake the squash in the oven and serve them as soup bowls. This soup is wild rice with potatoes and carrots.
The first year that I discovered how yummy squash was the year I was still visiting the local farmer's market. I got a whole grocery bag full of smaller sized squash for $5! They lasted all winter and were the perfect size for a two-person household. Since then, I've been getting a variety of different squash from my CSA. I don't have a need to go to the farmers market any more as my veggies are being delivered to my neighborhood by a local farmer.
Maybe this year, I'll get the chance to grow my own. The time to start seeds for the garden is swiftly approaching. While starting seeds can be a refreshing experience, it is also a time of nervousness. Will the weather cooperate? Have I started my seeds too soon, or too late? Do I have enough space on the inside for all the seeds I want to start?
The uncertainties and possibilities are endless.
I placed these three in my front garden with the hopes that the remaining seeds will somehow take root. Perhaps I'll get a chance to grow my own this year. I've seen squash and zucchini growing out of the lush nutrients of a compost pile - a big surprise to the owner of that compost pile. I'm sort of applying the same theory here.
But, beyond that, I think they add a bright splash of color in the dirtying whiteness of the snow that blankets the city. Perhaps something a little quirky and interesting to look at for all those neighbors walking by.
I admit that I had gotten a lot of strange looks when I moved my vegetable garden to the front of the house in a neighborhood full of immaculate front lawns. But over the years, I've worked in perennials around the spots designated for vegetables and herbs. And since I'm spending more time hanging in the front yard, there has been more opportunity to get to know my neighbors, and many of the new ones in the area have voiced support for de-lawning my yard.
I like to bake the squash in the oven and serve them as soup bowls. This soup is wild rice with potatoes and carrots.
The first year that I discovered how yummy squash was the year I was still visiting the local farmer's market. I got a whole grocery bag full of smaller sized squash for $5! They lasted all winter and were the perfect size for a two-person household. Since then, I've been getting a variety of different squash from my CSA. I don't have a need to go to the farmers market any more as my veggies are being delivered to my neighborhood by a local farmer.
Maybe this year, I'll get the chance to grow my own. The time to start seeds for the garden is swiftly approaching. While starting seeds can be a refreshing experience, it is also a time of nervousness. Will the weather cooperate? Have I started my seeds too soon, or too late? Do I have enough space on the inside for all the seeds I want to start?
The uncertainties and possibilities are endless.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
The Foshay from the 50th
On Friday, I hauled myself out of bed at sunrise to trek downtown for a breakfast event. Sunrise isn't all that early in the beginning of March, nonetheless it was 6:30 and that was early for me. I managed to catch the only sunlight of the day.
An eagle flew overhead as I crossed the new 35W bridge that is over the Mississippi River. A good omen for what turned into a good morning.
The talk was sponsored by the Minnesota International Center and the speaker was Majora Carter who is celebrated for her productive efforts to "Green the Ghetto." The event took place on the 50th floor of the IDS building. I'd forgotten that, and after a shaky, disorienting ride up the elevator, I was quite surprised to see such a wonderful view.
There was quite the view of the Foshay Tower, and the numerous windows on the 50th floor framed the slender rise of the tower from a multiplicity of angles.
I'll take any chance I can get to look down upon the city like this. Things seems to make sense, there seems to be a sense of order to the open lots with the rows and rows of cars, the sharp corners of the city streets on the grid, the rise of so many buildings like trees growing in a concrete jungle. It was easy to see how we are all connected, all part of the same human system.
I kept thinking why isn't this working for us? There are so many people working in these office spaces in the sky, shouldn't they have a better grip on the world? Shouldn't such lofty view inspire compassion, gratitude, good will?
I was rewarded for my thoughts with the great talk given by Carter. Here's the description offered on the MIC website:
I was immediately struck with the relevancy of her vision to addressing the challenges of this century. She began by quoting another woman from her neighborhood who said: "You shouldn't have to move out of your neighborhood in order to live in a good neighborhood."
That idea resonated deeply within me. Especially now since I'm trying to make sense of life here in Minnesota, trying to tease out what it is about this town that appeals to me and the Big D. And hearing that quote made me think I no longer have to justify my reasons for remaining in this city, although I should make certain to notice my surroundings and perhaps contribute to improving and greening this community.
She talked about "horticultural infrastructure" and the importance of adding this element to city planning, the importance of having an abundance of green things to improve the air, cool rooftops, thus reducing our dependence on limited energy sources. There was discussion about ways to train crews for green projects, the possibility for alternative energy sources being connected to a national grid. All very interesting stuff that made up for the crappy breakfast meal and high ticket price for attending the event.
I'm a girl that likes the woods, the solitude of remote places, but I also find a lot of value in those things connected to the grid, city resources that enrich my everyday life whether it be necessary utilities or public benefits such as libraries. And not all of us who live in the city can sprawl towards and over the green space, the woodland spaces of Minnesota. Helping to improve the city keeps people in the city.
These changes are no longer an ideal to strive for. They are necessary for sustaining our abundant lifestyles. They are necessary in making certain that all communities have access to these things. Carter didn't waste too much time on ideals but rather offered real, practical solutions out there to fighting poverty, unemployment and violence in our communities. Real practical efforts to reduce our reliance on oil and fossil fuels and increase our use of clean, alternative energies such as wind and solar.
The question that I had for the speaker was "what role or contribution can the Arts have in this effort to green our world?" While it's true that artists and their various forms of art should be included in the green spaces created for the public, there must also be other ways in which the Arts can improve communication, educate the public, seek to tease out visions for the future. In response to my question, Carter offered the idea the Arts provides a way to see beauty that is fundamental to building communities, bringing people together in celebration of community.
It's going to take me a while to wrap my brain around this questions. I want to think more about other ways in which the Arts can contribute as this country is facing a real green revolution. My own artistic endeavors focus on capturing moments in my woodland environment, the green park spaces in my neighborhoods, the stark beauty of the desert which is so alien to my midwest sensibilities. I am left with the wondrous feeling that my effort to push my art to a different level was inspired by a birds-eye view of the city grid.
Surprising and wondrous - apt words for describing this burgeoning national interest in greening our cities in a way that improves life for all of us in this human system.
An eagle flew overhead as I crossed the new 35W bridge that is over the Mississippi River. A good omen for what turned into a good morning.
The talk was sponsored by the Minnesota International Center and the speaker was Majora Carter who is celebrated for her productive efforts to "Green the Ghetto." The event took place on the 50th floor of the IDS building. I'd forgotten that, and after a shaky, disorienting ride up the elevator, I was quite surprised to see such a wonderful view.
There was quite the view of the Foshay Tower, and the numerous windows on the 50th floor framed the slender rise of the tower from a multiplicity of angles.
I'll take any chance I can get to look down upon the city like this. Things seems to make sense, there seems to be a sense of order to the open lots with the rows and rows of cars, the sharp corners of the city streets on the grid, the rise of so many buildings like trees growing in a concrete jungle. It was easy to see how we are all connected, all part of the same human system.
I kept thinking why isn't this working for us? There are so many people working in these office spaces in the sky, shouldn't they have a better grip on the world? Shouldn't such lofty view inspire compassion, gratitude, good will?
I was rewarded for my thoughts with the great talk given by Carter. Here's the description offered on the MIC website:
Majora Carter pioneered urban green economic practices in one of the country's most difficult environments: the South Bronx, N.Y. By connecting the right type of training, policy and relationships, she now helps cities across the U.S. realize the value of integrating infrastructure and the local economy in ways that benefit everyone. Ms. Carter will be in Minnesota to serve as the keynote speaker for the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize Forum, which will be held at St. Olaf College in Northfield.
I was immediately struck with the relevancy of her vision to addressing the challenges of this century. She began by quoting another woman from her neighborhood who said: "You shouldn't have to move out of your neighborhood in order to live in a good neighborhood."
That idea resonated deeply within me. Especially now since I'm trying to make sense of life here in Minnesota, trying to tease out what it is about this town that appeals to me and the Big D. And hearing that quote made me think I no longer have to justify my reasons for remaining in this city, although I should make certain to notice my surroundings and perhaps contribute to improving and greening this community.
She talked about "horticultural infrastructure" and the importance of adding this element to city planning, the importance of having an abundance of green things to improve the air, cool rooftops, thus reducing our dependence on limited energy sources. There was discussion about ways to train crews for green projects, the possibility for alternative energy sources being connected to a national grid. All very interesting stuff that made up for the crappy breakfast meal and high ticket price for attending the event.
I'm a girl that likes the woods, the solitude of remote places, but I also find a lot of value in those things connected to the grid, city resources that enrich my everyday life whether it be necessary utilities or public benefits such as libraries. And not all of us who live in the city can sprawl towards and over the green space, the woodland spaces of Minnesota. Helping to improve the city keeps people in the city.
These changes are no longer an ideal to strive for. They are necessary for sustaining our abundant lifestyles. They are necessary in making certain that all communities have access to these things. Carter didn't waste too much time on ideals but rather offered real, practical solutions out there to fighting poverty, unemployment and violence in our communities. Real practical efforts to reduce our reliance on oil and fossil fuels and increase our use of clean, alternative energies such as wind and solar.
The question that I had for the speaker was "what role or contribution can the Arts have in this effort to green our world?" While it's true that artists and their various forms of art should be included in the green spaces created for the public, there must also be other ways in which the Arts can improve communication, educate the public, seek to tease out visions for the future. In response to my question, Carter offered the idea the Arts provides a way to see beauty that is fundamental to building communities, bringing people together in celebration of community.
It's going to take me a while to wrap my brain around this questions. I want to think more about other ways in which the Arts can contribute as this country is facing a real green revolution. My own artistic endeavors focus on capturing moments in my woodland environment, the green park spaces in my neighborhoods, the stark beauty of the desert which is so alien to my midwest sensibilities. I am left with the wondrous feeling that my effort to push my art to a different level was inspired by a birds-eye view of the city grid.
Surprising and wondrous - apt words for describing this burgeoning national interest in greening our cities in a way that improves life for all of us in this human system.
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