Thick slices toasted, with butter. Music. Books. Rain.
If I Had A Boat -Lyle Lovett
I've accidentally come into town dressed as a 45yo and I'm getting "madam"-ed left right and centre.
Once you see a fashion reach the 35 year old moms, cease wearing it immediately. It's over.
"Crossing to Safety is a love story, not in the sense of titillating dialogue and actions, but in the sense that it explores private lives. No outsider ever knows the interior landscape of a marriage. It is one of the great secrets kept between couples."
-From the Introduction by Terry Tempest Williams to Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner
Thinking about this beach, where we ate lunch yesterday. It felt like we were in Portofino.
Listening to Jesse DeNatale and thinking back to the best book event I've ever attended.
Reading poems by Jennifer Grotz.
a person should be in love most of
a person should be understood though
he has brought both of his brows together
in anger and also suddenly begun to laugh
I was going to write a poem
I made a pie instead it took
about the same amount of time
of course the pie was a final
draft a poem would have had some
distance to go days and weeks and
much crumpled paper
How do stories begin for you?
A lot of them begin with a sentence—they all begin with language. It sounds dopey to say that, but it’s true. Very often one sentence is absolutely resonant. A story can begin with someone speaking. “I was popular in certain circles,” for example; an aunt of mine said that, and it hung around in my head for a long time. Eventually I wrote a story, “Goodbye and Good Luck,” that began with that line, though it had nothing to do with my aunt.
|June 24, 2012|
Homemade kimchi fried rice.
Little vases bursting with fresh herbs.
The Three Cornered World.
Monday--March 8, 2010
Today I looked in three cookbooks before finding Amanda Hesser's recipe in The Cook and the Gardener, pages 372-373. I'd forgotten how much I adored this book. She used crushed coriander seeds in her recipe, something I'd never done. Also, I just love the way Amanda Hesser writes about food. She has a way of combining smug with charming. Oh how I'd like to sit in her kitchen and share a bottle of wine and some casual conversation with her. I imagine her husband has scooped up their kids and gone to visit some relative. It's just us girls, in jeans and t-shirts. There are glasses of wine, olives, and toasted nuts. No cooking, just talking. We get a bit tipsy, laugh like hyenas, and I take a cab back to my hotel. I fall asleep watching an ancient episode of That Girl that has somehow shown up on cable.
|Anna and Marilynne, 2012|
It is a great art to saunter.
Then there is the matter of my mother’s abandonment of me. Again, this is the common experience. They walk ahead of us, and walk too fast, and forget us, they are so lost in thoughts of their own, and soon or late they disappear. The only mystery is that we expect it to be otherwise.
It’s odd when I think of the arc of my life, from child to young woman to aging adult. First I was who I was. Then I didn’t know who I was. Then I invented someone, and became her. Then I began to like what I’d invented. And finally I was what I was again.
|She's Back (tomorrow), 2008|
|City Flowers, 2012|
Let me underscore the obvious here: Reading fiction is important. It is a vital means of imagining a life other than our own, which in turn makes us more empathetic beings. Following complex story lines stretches our brains beyond the 140 characters of sound-bite thinking, and staying within the world of a novel gives us the ability to be quiet and alone, two skills that are disappearing faster than the polar icecaps.More here.
|Breton's Nadja, 2012|