Winter makes fragments more appealing than ever.
A scarcity of warmth, a scarcity of words,
a surplus of books-in-waiting.
A surplus of poems
A surplus of time.
The sideyard was so much fun. I was this happy:
best thing about the sideyard poetry readings:
the folks walking past on the other side of the hedge
on their way to friday-night-party
catching clips of outloud poetry
and the quick image of
a writer in the light
as they pass
What was also wonderful was how many people there were (estimates are in the high 90s), and the flower bouquets with artichokes in them (made by Ellie of course):
and how everyone got so drunk that no one bought books like these:
and perhaps the greatest miracle of the whole event is that not a single neighbor yelled at us. And people bought Misha’s photographs! And I didn’t even have a hangover the next morning! And the next morning was Saturday, and Ellie and I split a mushroom and bacon fritatta covered with blue cheese with whole wheat toast and raspberry jam. The end.
“Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.”
-James Baldwin, from “Giovanni’s Room”
Thank you, Heather, for the beautiful present.
(You can buy Heather’s handcrafts on her etsy site. She might even take embroidery requests!)
And here’s a painting of Baldwin, by Beauford Delaney, that I especially love.
Have you read “Giovanni’s Room” yet? Please do.
When life gives you lemons…
you make blood orange lemonade and mix it with vodka.
When life gives you sailor-themed thigh highs with little silver anchors hanging from the top, you…
purchase a ship?
get your freak on?
prepare your sexy sailor halloween costume very, very early?
What I receive at the farmers’ market is not only vegetables.