30 September 2010
Just thinking...Among other things, I've spent some time recently looking into grants and funds.... including a lot of time drooling over residencies in beautiful seclusion. But as inspiring as the residency possibilities are, it is as equally depressing to see on so many websites the words "Applications Suspended Until Further Notice". This is includes perhaps the most inspiring grant I know of, the Gift of Freedom from the Room of Her Own Foundation. In case you ever doubted it, here is proof that freedom costs money. But I am determined. I am even looking to the Belgians. I will translate myself into French and Flemish if I have to.
20 September 2010
When you think intensely and beautifully, something happens. That something is called poetry. If you think that way and speak at the same time, poetry gets in your mouth. If people hear you, it gets in their ears. If you think that way and write at the same time, then poetry gets written. But poetry exists in any case. The question is only: are you going to take part, and if so, how?— Robert Bringhurst (The Tree of Meaning: Thirteen Talks)
15 September 2010
Lichfield did a wonderful, generous, small thing for me this morning, but it made such a difference. Isn't it amazing how such a small thing, in and of itself, be such a big thing, at the same time? What he did was wake Clover up and make sure she got out of bed and prepared for school...while I went for a run. It is too dark now in the mornings to run at 6.30 am. There is too much traffic to run at 8 am (I run on the street, because the sidewalks are ankle-twisting, uneven, knee-ruining cobblestoned horrors). Between 7 and 7:30 is perfect, but that's also the time Clover needs to get up and let's face it, she still needs a prod. It does not involve a lot of work -- mainly, waking up a 10 year old child who is fairly amenable, though sleepy; she does the getting dressed, etc, herself -- but the timing is crucial. Since I started running in the mornings, it has made such a difference to my sanity. But with the daylight dwindling I've been struggling. And it is so very hard to be in two places at once.
photo source - This is not me so don't get all excited.
06 September 2010
For years I saw or read or hear references to Laurie Colwin and her books (this one, Home Cooking, and its sequel, More Home Cooking). I don't know why I waited so long to read her myself. Each chapter in the book is about a particular food or meal -- "English Cooking" for example, waxes lyrical about Britain's double cream. Others include the classic "Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant", "How to Avoid Grilling" and "Flank Steak: the Neglected Cut". The chapters end with a recipe or two. Colwin's voice is cozy, practical, sharp, funny. When you read her, you wish you knew her so that you too could be invited to her tiny NYC apartment to eat a delicious meal cooked on a two-burner hotplate and help wash it up in the bathtub. The only problem I have with the book is that I know Colwin died of a heart attack in 1992 when she was only 48, and every time she mentions cutting back on salt, I start to tear up. But what is a love doesn't twist a bit of the knife in the heart? I think I will cook a Colwin im memoriam meal on 25 October.