Sunday, February 28, 2010

The Angel of History




My wing is ready to fly I would rather turn back For had I stayed mortal time I would have had little luck.
– Gerhard Scholem, “Angelic Greetings”

There is a painting by Klee called Angelus Novus. An angel is depicted there who looks as though he were about to distance himself from something which he is staring at. His eyes are opened wide, his mouth stands open and his wings are outstretched. The Angel of History must look just so. His face is turned towards the past. Where we see the appearance of a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe, which unceasingly piles rubble on top of rubble and hurls it before his feet. He would like to pause for a moment so fair, to awaken the dead and to piece together what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise, it has caught itself up in his wings and is so strong that the Angel can no longer close them. The storm drives him irresistibly into the future, to which his back is turned, while the rubble-heap before him grows sky-high. That which we call progress, is this storm.

--Walter Benjamin, Part IX of "Illuminations"

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The road starts out straight

Situations in which I'm pretty sure I'd be very happy right now:

1. Wandering in vast field...breathing in pure air



2. On a smooth, rock beach with a good friend pondering life's deepest questions and then laughing about how the answers don't even matter



3. Kissing some dream boy on a tandem bike on a warm summer afternoon...biking to nowhere


4. Toes skimming the lake....thinking about how cool and calm the water is





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Travel Directions

by Joan I. Siegel

There ought to be a word
for the way you know how to get some place
but don't remember the names of streets
the number of turns and blinking yellow lights
so that if someone asked
you really couldn't say
except you know the road starts out straight
and when it's sunny the branches blink across
the windshield making you want to rub your eyes
then the road turns sharply uphill past a red barn
where a black dog jumps out to race you for a quarter mile
and finally recedes in the mirror like a disappointment
and you remember the road dips downhill
into the shadows of the morning
where you hear Bach's unaccompanied 'cello
and understand what a good fit the 'cello makes
in the hollow of the body
where grief begins and for an indeterminate time
the road winds vaguely past
houses people road signs
while time hums in your ear and you remember
the dream you left behind that morning
which had nothing
to do with where
you are going

"Travel Directions" by Joan I. Siegel, from Hyacinth for the Soul.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Be wild, be free




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[thanks, KB!]

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Ok, gotta get to work. I know I promised a nice, long post over the weekend...but as per usual, things got busier than I had expected! One coming up in the very near future. Really!

Happy Monday Monday!

Friday, February 19, 2010

And cups o'erflow with wine




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Do you ever have those mornings where you're strolling along and you're like, "I am so flippin' happy right now" for no specific reason at all? Don't you just love when that happens?! In general I'm a pretty happy gal, but then I get these windows of joyous light where I can hardly even handle the immense amounts of beauty and happiness around me. Sometimes it's as simple as a good cup o' joe, or recalling yet again how lucky I am to be living in NYC, or taking a moment to appreciate the wonderful people around me. YES!

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Went to Bobo last night for dinner. STILL thinking about it. Absolutely delicious and I am obsessed with the interior design. It's sort of French country home meets chic city living meets sophisticated farmer meets Victorian flare. The food was out of this world. And the company? Unparalleled!

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Poem of the day...Mi Piace




Now Winter Nights Enlarge

by Thomas Campion

Now winter nights enlarge
This number of their hours;
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine;
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine!
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall wait on honey love
While youthful revels, masques, and Courtly sights
Sleep's leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense
With lovers' long discourse;
Much speech hath some defence,
Though beauty no remorse.
All do not all things well;
Some measures comely tread,
Some knotted riddles tell,
Some poems smoothly read.
The summer hath his joys,
And winter his delights;
Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,
They shorten tedious nights.

"Now winter Nights Enlarge" by Thomas Campion.

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Have a wonderful Friday, mes amis!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Laughing Heart


In the glow of that late afternoon, I couldn't help but think of the days when we'd lie on our backs in the grass and say nothing; feel everything.


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[Thanks to LS for bringing this to my attention]

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010




Mmmm, yep. Sit and listen

with heart-shaped wooden heels


It should have been a quiet morning, but the sky had something else in store for us...

A rumble of magic came from the hills afar

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Quick!

Some stuff to share

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Jessa Crispin on by-products:

I was having a conversation with a writer the other day, and he stated that the best things are always by-products. Happiness is a by-product, and I loved that he said that. You can plot your journey to success or happiness or wealth or whatever it is you’re looking for, but if you’re too focused on the end result, you’re going to miss anything good going on around you.

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Work vs. work

“(Capital-W) Work is what we have considered for years: your boss tells you to do something, you do it, and you get paid. By contrast, (little-w) work is motivated by inherent interest and generally unpaid. Think of the difference between an Encyclopedia Britannica editor doing Work, and a Wikipedia editor doing work during spare hours. Big Work drives the economy; little work drives the Internet. Big Work builds skyscrapers; little work generates a half million fanfiction stories about Harry Potter.”



Clay Shirky: Doing work or doing Work?

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Kind of heart this:


the true new yorker secretly believes
that people living anywhere else
have to be, in some sense, kidding.

- John Updike

[although...let me get back to you about my NYC thoughts later this week. Lots to discuss]

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Today on The Writer's Almanac:



Somebody's Mother

by Mary Dow Brine

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.
The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of 'school let out,'
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.
Nor offered a helping hand to her—
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest lad of all the group;
He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and grey,
And her own dear boy is far away."
"Somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"

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"If Sea of Shoes had a blog baby with Book Slut, you might get a close cousin of Lit Life."


Elle Magazine launches its own lit blog

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Pretty....

[via Design*Sponge]

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YOU ARE!

yes, yes, and never forget it

<3

Monday, February 15, 2010

The Honeybees



Happy lil' bee...somehow flying sans wings!

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Hello! So, while home for the weekend I came across the first essay I've ever written! I have to say, it's pretty adorable. I wrote it in 1st grade (7 years old) and it's all about honeybees. The illustrations are on the original essay (now in a frame, thanks to my mom!)...and I know, you don't have to tell me, they are absolutely stunning and necessary to the overall comprehension of this intricate text ;)

But really, it's so fun for me to read over this and recall the inner mind of my 7 year-old self...I think the most interesting aspect of this little essay is the interaction with the reader. Hm..

Ok, without further ado, here it is!





The Honeybees

One kind of bee is the worker bee. It collects nectar to make honey. Without bees we wouldn't have flowers and I just LOVE flowers. I like the smell. I pick them for my mom.

I also like honey. I don't know if you like honey. It is my favorite.

I like bees. I don't like the stinger. It hurts me! Ouch! I bet it hurts you too.

I see worker bees around my house collecting nectar. At my friends house I got a spoonful of honey. Yum!

The worker bee knows its job. When I was a baby I didn't know my job.

I wonder about bees. Do they only live for six weeks? I live longer. You do too.

The worker bee has a long tongue to suck the nectar. It has pockets on its legs to collect the pollen. It takes the nectar back to the hive and stores it in the comb.

Yum! I love honey! I have crackers with honey. It is good. Bees like honey too. Sometimes bees get tired and die. Oh dear! The beehive is crowded. If it gets too crowded some bees will have to leave. I wouldn't like leaving my family.

by Julia Howe







Friday, February 12, 2010

Reenchantment



"Mornings like this are beautiful," she said in a low voice, "when you feel the physicality of your entire being in the soles of your feet."

I felt it too, but I didn't utter a word. I was afraid to breathe; afraid to ruin the moment.

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Going to Vermont today. Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes I am!

Monday, February 8, 2010

...with the courage I thought my dream deserved...



And then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils.

—from "I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud" by William Wordsworth

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Love the simplicity of this ad. And it is fueling my already intense desire to go back to France ::sigh::



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Oh how I adore Kim Addonizio's poems...



Ex-Boyfriends

by Kim Addonizio

They hang around, hitting on your friends
or else you never hear from them again.
They call when they're drunk, or finally get sober,

they're passing through town and want dinner,
they take your hand across the table, kiss you
when you come back from the bathroom.

They were your loves, your victims,
your good dogs or bad boys, and they're over
you now. one writes a book in which a woman

who sounds suspiciously like you
is the first to be sadistically dismembered
by a serial killer. They're getting married

and want you to be the first to know,
or they've been fired and need a loan,
their new girlfriend hates you,

they say they don't miss you but show up
in your dreams, calling to you from the shoeboxes
where they're buried in rows in your basement.

Some nights you find one floating into bed with you,
propped on an elbow, giving you a look
of fascination, a look that says I can't believe

I've found you. It's the same way
your current boyfriend gazed at you last night,
before he pulled the plug on the tiny white lights

above the bed, and moved against you in the dark
broken occasionally by the faint restless arcs
of headlights from the freeway's passing trucks,

the big rigs that travel and travel,
hauling their loads between cities, warehouses,
following the familiar routes of their loneliness.

-"Ex-Boyfriends" by Kim Addonizio, from What Is This Thing Called Love

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Ok, back to work! Class tonight till 9:30...suddenly Mondays are so loooooong. But it's all good stuff, so no complaining from my end!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

We needed books...we needed something upon which to build dreams




...I heard the hum of the familiar baritone voice come to a halt and knew that he wanted me to look over at him. But I couldn't. I didn't want to let go of the floating feeling and I couldn't turn away from the light.

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Lazy lazy Sunday and loving every minute of it. Mmmmm. The sun streaming in through my window makes my room smell like the summer nights from childhood. So sweet.

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"Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on"
— Louis L'Amour


Yes, it's true. I went through a period where the pressure of even beginning to write something was too much to bear. I had all of these expectations, assumptions, binding ideals of what I wanted as an end result. But done! Enough! Turning the faucet on...letting the writing begin.

When it comes to storytelling, I'm noticing I am inspired most by the clips of passing conversations that I catch and random photos/images (like the one at the top of this post). And when I am thinking of it and when the stories burst fresh into my mind, that's the time to lasso them and reel them in....let them grow. I will write more and more and more now...even if it's "crapola" (as my dad would say)...but things can go from crap to gold, no?

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The title of this post is another Louis L'amour quote. I don't remember which book exactly...I want to say, "Ride The River"?

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Saw Cavalier Rose last night and looooooved it. Was totally into the singer's quirky, cool voice and the drummer's physical approach to, well, drumming. It kicked some serious booty. Always fun to see people rocking out and doing what they love.

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So, this is a little belated but I wanted to pay respects to Howard Zinn. Quite an incredible man, and his ideas will live, strongly, forever.

I was so intrigued and inspired way back when I first heard about Zinn that I read A People's History of The United States in just a few sittings. I was blown away. For the first time, history wasn't the same old bland, monolithic narrative of a bunch of white men crowned "hero". Zinn gave voice to the people, named the forgotten, and opened up the truth.

Not to get all literary and geeky on you, but there's a beautiful quote from Toni Morrison's "Beloved" that reminds me of Zinn's work. [and if you haven't read Beloved, go do it. NOW. For so many reasons]:


"Everybody knew what she was called, but nobody anywhere knew her name. Disremembered and unaccounted for, she cannot be lost because no one is looking for her, and even if they were, how can they call her if they don't know her name? Although she has claim, she is not claimed."

- Toni Morrison, Beloved

What Zinn did for the lost souls of history was give them a name. He penned their stories and therefore, made them a reality today.

I could go on and on and on...but for now that's enough.

Except, I also highly recommend watching You Can't Be Neutral on A Moving Train. A great documentary on Zinn and his ideas...and, just a cool fact, it was co-directed by Deb Ellis, a film instructor at University of Vermont. Woot!

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I also, of course, wanted to mention J.D. Salinger. What an icon. I'm sure he'd hate all of the attention his death has received, but.....hey.....that's what happens when you're such a great literary figure. I never knew what an influence Holden Caulfield had on my writing/thinking until after high school. It really was a milestone of a read. Some Catcher in The Rye quotes:

"What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of a good-by. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad good-by, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse."

"I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can. "

"If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she's late? Nobody."

"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."

"What really knocks me out is a book, when you're all done reading it, you wished the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it."

"She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls, if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hands all the time, as if they were afraid they'd bore you or something. Jane was different. We'd get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we'd start holding hands, and we won't quite till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were."


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Swinging feels so so good. So does skipping. Skipped for a couple blocks last night from the concert to a warm little nook. Fun.

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Coverspy is a team of NYC publishing nerds who note each book cover they see during their commutes and post them to a Tumblr and Twitter page. Awesome!



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Dive into the New York Public Library’s Photostream on Flickr. Many discoveries to be had!

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I want to rock this look. Right now. Where does one get such beautiful frills?!

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“Distractivity is what you’re doing when you get distracted from what you should be doing. It’s generally what you want to do, often what you need to do, and arguably, what you’ll do best.”

- John Goodman from Distractivity

Hmm...

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Well, c'est tout pour maintenant, mes amis.


Oh yeah, superbowl? No thanks. I'd rather stay home and cook and watch cozy movies and continue this lazy Sundayness.

xo

Friday, February 5, 2010

Florence and the Machine

So good. Seeing her in April, YAY! Merci to KB for sharing the love





Wednesday, February 3, 2010

This makes me so happy

...and I, too, would like to dance around like this



Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Buttercup



When you hold it up to you, your face glows...

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Still no time for a looong, thoughtful post (I will get to that on Sunday!) but I do have some things to share, as per usual.

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First, I was really craving some Orwell today, and then I happened upon this review of the most recent compilation of his essays, DIARIES. Yay! Want it...

"This afternoon I remembered very vividly that incident with the taxi-driver in Paris in 1936, and was going to have written something about it in this diary. But now I feel so saddened that I can’t write it. Everything is disintegrating. It makes me writhe to be writing book-reviews etc at such a time, and even angers me that such time-wasting should still be permitted . . . . At present I feel as I felt in 1936 when the Fascists were closing in on Madrid, only far worse. But I will write about the taxi-driver sometime."

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In the midst of all that I read for work, I've been making sure I always have a book going for personal pleasure, too. Starting The Adversary tonight.

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Social media mullet
! Business in the front, party in the back





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This ring is too cool for school. I am so into it!


It even has its own little video





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I get a kick out of these stainless steel straws (yep, a kick)



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MacArthur winner Sendhil Mullainathan uses the lens of behavioral economics to study a tricky set of social problems -- those we know how to solve, but don't. We know how to reduce child deaths due to diarrhea, how to prevent diabetes-related blindness and how to implement solar-cell technology ... yet somehow, we don't or can't. Why?

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Another incredibly cool ring. I still like stump ring better, but this is pretty awesome


Kinekt’s Gear Ring
. The Gear Ring is made from high quality matte stainless steel. It features six micro-precision gears that turn in unison when the outer rims are spun. What?!


Aaaaand, this little guy has its own video too!

Kinekt Design's Gear Ring from Glen Liberman on Vimeo.



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Now you can customize your own Sigg bottle...sweet. At Cafepress.com....where I recently purchased 10 "Save Pluto" bumper stickers. Yep. True. It is also the website where I bought the men in my family mustache mugs for Christmas. Good site.

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Ok, have to do some stuff now, but I promise a good post is coming up on Sunday!

<3

Monday, February 1, 2010


Mmm, can't you feel it?!

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Good morning, happy Monday and...Happy February!

I don't have time for a real post right now, but things to be addressed in next real blog post:

-New, good music
-commercials that make me mildly-moderately uncomfortable
-Howard Zinn
-J.D. Salinger
-"A Single Man"
-Google image results for favorite radio personalities (spoiler alert: don't do it!)
-Radiolab podcasts

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Ok, back to work!


P.S. I start my F.I.T. class today, yay!
P.P.S.


“Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.”- Howard Zinn