portent or merely weather?

There's a full moon surrounded by clouds and huge flashes of lightning out my window. At first I thought it was some jackass on the next street with a floodlight (because THAT'S so sensible), but no -- it's honest to god lightning.

It's not the jagged heavy metal tattoo kind of lightning, but rather the big flash sheet of horror movie lightning, where suddenly you can see that the zombies are almost upon you. Very exciting! (but I might have just scared myself out of sleep. Way to go, Jen!) Oh, great! now here comes the thunder and the moon has gone half way behind a black cloud like we're in Transylvania looking up at the castle. All that's required now is for the alleged neighborhood coyotes to start howling and I'll never sleep again!

I get it moon, you're versatile (and kind of a drama queen) -- last month show tunes, this month horror films. I'm almost (but not quite) afraid to see what September brings.

the kind of problem to have

So much to read! This is a wonderful feeling, but at the same time I'm having some what-to-read-when issues. I've been partially directed by the capricious collective desires of other patrons in the library system; as long as nobody else wants to read what I've got checked out (or few enough other people), I'm fine. I can shuffle things around and renew and read according to what sounds good -- but occasionally there's that OTHER PERSON(S) who insists on wanting the book that I've got. (This is the true downfall of sharing books with an entire metropolitan area.)

Well, ha ha! my hold list nemesis/nemeses! I've got a new plan!! (definitely insane but slightly evil laughter here.) I am going to read some books I've been meaning to read forever but keep passing up because I have others that must be read now; books out of reach of your barcode bullying because they are mine, mine, MINE. (more D.I.B.S.E.L here.) So, what should I read first? The Time Traveler's Wife (I really loved both of her illustrated books a lot)? Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (super-heart Wonder Boys and regular plus-heart Yiddish Policeman's Union)? Everything is Illuminated or Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close? (I don't actually own either of the Foer books, but I know that the library has a LOT of copies and I'm very attracted to the cover art on the latter one.)

(in fairness I feel I should point out that the pressure of reading RIGHT NOW is probably a good one for the perpetual procrastinator, but I want to mix it up a little.)

Any suggestions? Are you reading anything wonderful right now? Read anything wonderful either recently or ages ago that you don't think gets enough attention? (I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith = so good! which reminds me of another I just read, which, etc. etc. etc. ) I've read a lot of really good books lately -- I'm hoping to have a little more about those soon. (I know! I'm all talk. I'm going with the theory that tentative steps in the right direction are better than no steps at all.)

In unrelated news (except that it happened library-adjascent), when I went to work the other day there was a subaru station wagon full of early-twenties hippies playing BONGOS in the parking lot! They had the back hatch open. There were a lot of them, it was almost like a hippie clown car -- they were everywhere! Most of them were wearing those crocheted caps that people only ever wear in the middle of summer if they have had insufficient access to a little thing I like to call THE SHOWER. There were bongos, at least one dog, a unicycle (!), Creedence coming out of some muffled speaker somewhere, and all these hippie boys goofing off in the parking lot next to the library at least an hour before we opened. Thankfully, we did not have to discover how long it took to go from charming ha ha bizarre yet delightful Coen Brother's comedy to rageful I am going to smash that bongo over your head if you hit it one more time, naked Matthew McBongo drama. As soon as the library opened they came in and all asked for guest passes to use the internet. They were just passing through -- a crazy band of itinerant bongo playing crocheted hat wearing shower eschewing unicycle riders with email to check.

something new every day

One of my favorite things about working for the library is that so many interesting things pass through my hands. I'm always learning something new, although the persistent lesson is that I will never know all the interesting things there are to know! (Strangely, I find this a comfort.)

A few months ago I was filing books onto the hold shelf while someone else was checking them in at the desk. A children's book with a striking collage cover came through and my coworker said "doesn't this reminded you of that guy? You know, THAT GUY." (I did not know "that guy" in this instance. A lot of times I can figure it out, but she had me stumped.) Finally the lightbulb went off over her head and she asked me if I was familiar with the work of Romare Bearden.

I was not! She looked up the name to make sure she had it right and wrote it down for me. (I put it in my pocket.) I recently had some spots available on my hold list, so I went through my stack of pocket-notes, found "Romare Bearden" written in handwriting not my own and decided it was time to find out more. I put this book featuring his Caribbean work on hold. The cover is so beautiful; this tiny jpeg does not come close to doing it justice. (All of the images I found for it seem really muddy in color.)

I know more about him than I did, but there's so much more to discover. Here are a few images I found online which showcase the variety of his work. These are collage, although he did paintings and large-scale public works as well. I'm really intrigued by the images that incorporate photography into the collage. I think what I'm responding to is the extra depth/layers this adds to the picture -- he's using the specific to illustrate the universal. (I like this in stories, too.)

He did a fantastic series based on The Odyssey.


Many images of the rural south. I love this garden picture a lot -- it's called Maudell Sleet's Magic Garden.


I love the expression on the guitar player in this one.


This appears to be the same piece as the one above, only reversed and with stronger color. I wonder which way is correct? It's great either way. Hmmm. I like the richness of the blue on the second one, but like the fuzzier, sort of blown-out quality of the first. (My guess is that the stronger color is correct.)

Wallflower at the Orgy

by Nora Ephron

Wallflower at the Orgy was chosen as my second foray into Summer Eprhonathon for two reasons. First, the title is so great -- it just is! although she explains it away as a metaphor for journalism. It's a nice metaphor, but I always like them better when I'm allowed to connect the dots myself. Second -- it was next book of hers I could get the quickest from the library. We just have one copy, but I only had to wait out the person who had it, then it was all mine. (although someone has done the same thing to me, and I'm now writing this on top of a late fine.)

I love the original cover! I love everything about it -- the purple, the bright green orgy with stripes, the black and white author photo on the back. Compare with the 2007 trade paperback, which, with its bashful naked legs, makes it look like a contemporary chick lit novel filled with lovingly described shopping sprees and also some part about a guy who pledges his troth to pay for future shopping sprees. No wonder so many people at Goodreads seemed disappointed with it; maybe they were expecting a novel or more recent essays, or at least essays about orgies, but got instead a collection of magazine articles from 40 years ago.

These essays were mostly written for women's magazines (Cosmopolitan) in the late 60's. Here's a quote from the introduction to give some context: "I should say that almost everything in this book was written in 1968 and 1969, and almost everything in it is about what I like to think of as frivolous things. Fashion, trashy books, show business, food. I could call these subjects Popular Culture, but I like writing about them so much that I hate to think they have to be justified in this way--or at least I'm sorry if they do." She gives it the old non-justification justification (sort of like the explanation of the title). It's at once bold and apologetic -- is that how it was to be a smart, ambitious woman in that era? Rock the boat, but don't tip it over? Or is it nothing to do with that and merely an artifact of being a smart woman taking on subjects considered by The Establishment to be trivial? (I've been watching Mad Men, so this is on my mind.)

It's so interesting, not just because I also like the "Popular Culture," but to look at it from 40 years later. I realize that this kind of thing may not be for everyone, but I found it fascinating. It was like being in a time machine! a feminist time machine!! Some things seem dated and old fashioned (referring to herself as Mrs. Dan Greenburg, for one) but on the other hand, extreme political correctness was not yet the order of the day so there is a quality of unselfconscious plainspokenness sometimes missing from modern journalism. It's written at a fluid time in feminist history -- things had changed a lot and were about to change a lot more, but it was recent change so the Old Way hovers over everything. Plus, she's so funny -- but in her particular sly, dry fashion that's always waiting for you to catch up, rather than in obvious nose-honking ways.

some of my favorites:

The Food Establishement -- This is about the great Time-Life Cookbook wars. My grandfather was a huge Time-Life fan and I grew up with various collections all around. (I think maybe because he used to sell Encyclopedia Britannica, so he was naturally kindly disposed to a subscription book series.) ANYWAY. I had no idea there was this big Foodie culture war around them; as much as I enjoyed reading about the bitchy kitchen gossip, it's also an interesting view on how we ate then, which allows for rumination on how we eat now.

Women's Wear Daily Unclothed -- oh, this is such a crazy fun article. It's historical (how did a trade magazine that featured "news of latex futures, new trends in sewing machines, and indiscriminate reports on every collection from shoes to hatpins" evolve to become a Must Read for the most fashionable?) and contemporary (how do they know what Jackie O. is going to wear?). Mostly, I loved it for tidbits like this: "It is catty, breathless, and loaded with shorthand expressions and non sequiturs. SENTENCES ARE CAPITALIZED FOR NO APPARENT REASON AND SEEM TO SNAP AND CRACKLE RIGHT OUT OF THE PAGE."

I really liked her two pieces on Mike Nichols -- one is a straight up profile/interview (December 1968) and one is a piece from on location with Catch 22 (May 1969). I think Mike Nichols is interesting (read Mark Harris's Pictures at a Revolution -- SO GOOD!) so I enjoyed reading the interview, but it wasn't just about him. Considering what she went on to do (and does now), this exchange in particular caught my attention:

Q: This is a naive question, but film is a very mysterious thing to me, and I don't understand how you just went out there and made a movie. How did you find out about all those mysterious sound devices and mysterious words like "looping"?
NICHOLS: I just held my nose and jumped in.
Q: But did you feel like an imbecile?
NICHOLS: I still do.
Q: You do?
NICHOLS: Oh, of course. All the time. Don't you?
Q: Oh, no, because I'm not doing anything terribly hard. It's just me and a typewriter. It's not me and a million technicians and budgets and deadlines.

I wish to cook with sewing tomatoes

I love this so much!



Western Spaghetti by PES, via d.Sharp

color spam

My new camera was waiting for me in the mailbox Saturday evening. Pretty great since I only (finally) ordered it on Thursday night! Woo hoo!

Anyway, in lieu of wordier content, here are some pictures I took today. I'm still figuring out how it works since it's a completely different brand than I'm used to. I got the Panasonic Lumix DMC-FS5, and am very pleased so far. I haven't even begun to explore all the options, but that didn't stop me from pushing a lot of buttons.

As I was saying -- here's some color:


ribbons at ikea.


coneflower in the garden. I love that these are purple and orange together. Together! You hear me, people who say they "don't match"?? Mother Nature says otherwise, and I agree! The orange parts look like little tiny missiles. Missiles aimed at orange/purple naysayers...


wrapping paper at ikea. If I had noticed that bit of ceiling while I was taking it, I would have tried to reframe it without. But even so -- yay paper! It looks sort of willy wonka to me. I wonder if Ikea has considered Oompa Loompa concierge allen wrench service? They should think about it.


back to the garden. This isn't exactly focused, but I think it very pretty anyway. It's like I took it with the Elizabeth Taylor Violet Eyes Vaseline Filter, which I believe is one of the preset modes on my camera!

it drove the women of my family insane

BEST quote without context from today: "I experienced only one hour of menopause. It's a good thing, too, because historically it drove the women of my family insane."
everyone else in the room: "..."
reply: "No, really."

BEST thing to wear on July 31st, 2008: RADISH SKIRT! I hadn't worn it in forever, and it cracked me up all day! It also seemed cheering to other people, which made it even better. "Are those radishes?" (this picture is weirdly distorting -- the skirt comes just below my knees, which is not two inches above my ankles like it looks in the photo.)

BEST place to eat lunch today, even though the trees were having some sort of tree pollen confetti party: Laurelhurst park, where I noticed that someone has started a bizarre collection of lawn creatures on the little island in the middle of the pond. There is a plastic chicken, a flamingo and an assortment of garden gnomes. Where do they come from? How do they get there? Do they move around at night when nobody's looking? Are the turtles that live on the log in the pond somehow involved? (I feel certain that they are...)

BEST bicycle seen today: one of those crazy welded together two-story bicycles ridden by a guy who I'm pretty sure walks around in stilts when he's not on his bike. Someone who eats fire for breakfast and swallows swords for snacks. In my imagination he would be a charming but tedious neighbor: "I get it! you're a fire eater! Yes, you've mentioned you're going to ride your weird tall bike all the way to Burning Man. Neat. Do you think you could you maybe stop with the arc welder and carnival techno after midnight? THANK YOU. p.s. your chickens got loose and crapped in my rain barrel again." (in imaginary reality he probably works in a bank, is still going to ride his weird tall bike to Burning Man, but doesn't weld after 10pm out of thoughtfulness for me, his imaginary neighbor. his imaginary chickens are too well behaved to crap in my imaginary rain barrel.)

BEST change in weather: this morning it was overcast and hazy, but after about 10AM it started getting sunny, sunnier, sunniest. Then it took a turn back to clouds and will probably rain tomorrow, but those 8 hours of sun were really sweet!

and now I'd BEST get to bed because I'm really freaking tired! I was going to have some blah la la about how this month went (mostly good, with a few pinches of misery for old times sake), but I'm tired and well aware that it's not exactly breaking news.

... and because I uploaded it so why not, here's a picture of what my unfinished project I found in a box looks like when I lay it out on the floor:

everything crooked and wonderful

I have finished painting! Mostly. I mean, I still have to do boring parts like put all the faceplates on and stuff like that, but the part where I'm in danger of backing into a wall of wet paint is OVER. huzzah! It looks really good -- say what you will about painting as a method of cleaning, but it does the job! I was going to compose a list of helpful painting hints, but I find that I don't want to think about it anymore. Maybe sometime soon. (they were really helpful!)

In other project news, I had a visit today from Weird Cousin Bonnie -- she's actually my mom's cousin, and she's not really weird in a pejorative sense. She marches to her own drum; at the time the "weird" was applied to her name, the drum insisted on a pantaloon jumpsuit. (what can I say? I think I was fifteen when I first met her and if I could have taken a pill to be invisible I would have. A pantaloon jumpsuit was faaar from my comfort zone.)

She's just started quilting and brought over what she's been working on. It was very nice -- much nicer than my first quilting projects, which were extremely boring because it hadn't quite occurred to me yet that they didn't have to be. I really liked what she was doing -- she has a great sense of color, but it was fairly rigid and from a pattern (her mother in law is a very precise pattern quilter). I had to make sure that she knew there were other Accepted Methods! (it's a delicate balance between being helpful and supportive and being obnoxiously bossy in craftland.) So I told her to do a google image search on Gee's Bend quilts (source of the photo in this post) -- I did it as I was telling her about it, and I forgot how much I love those quilts. I get the same wobbly legged feeling I get when looking at certain paintings. Everything is crooked and wonderful.

Anyway, a lovely side effect of the visit (beyond the Gee's Bend google) is that she caused me to run all around and assemble my recent(ish) quilting projects. I realized that I have finished more than I thought. This is a rare feeling!

I found one that I had started in the one and only quilting class I ever took. My former employer used to offer remarkable classes until they cancelled their education program, went bankrupt then insane. I continued to work for them for six more years. But I digress! I took one quilting class. Long story short, my quilt was never finished. Looking at it now, I can see that it is the antithesis of my natural quilting style -- lots of fussy little pieces, and HUGE. But today I had an epiphany -- I still really love the fabric and I have a bunch of squares already put together. If I just make 9 more, I'll have enough for a good sized lap/bed quilt (it would lay on top of the bed, but not hang over) and that would be fine with me. I think it's a much more versatile size, not to mention the joy of finishing a project bleepety years old! Updates as warranted.

In the meantime, here's a video I came across via d.Sharp. (I came across d.Sharp via angry chicken, who I came across via Posie Gets Cozy, who I came across because I really liked her shop. What do these three blogs have in common? Well, besides being well written by funny craft goddesses, they are also all from Portland!)

But back to the video! I hadn't heard of this song or Thao and the Get Down Stay Down until this turned up in my feed reader. I love the rambly shambly charms of the song (it turns out I like singing the words "bag of hammers"), but I also really dig the 8 panel photo collage effect in the video. BONUS: there is a claymation video for the same song, if you'd like to see it with brightly colored clay-people with little clay guitars.

found it!

The library book that was lost now is found. Hooray! It was right in plain sight, of course. (in my own defense, "in plain sight" is a visually confusing place right now due to moving everything out of one room and into another in order to paint.

I'm up to my elbows in wet paint (I wish this was an exaggeration) and have to get back to it, but here's a video that made me laugh. ("Mailbox!! Mailbox!")

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

broom shaking is an option

I have had a crazybusy week, but now things should be settling down so I can do crazy things of my own choosing. (hooray!)

Big projects are tempting me. If the weather cooperates (and I think it will) I'm anticipating some major work in the garden. It's scary out there, but it's only going to get wilder and woolier if I don't do something. (you're probably thinking "gardens can't get wooly. she clearly needs a vacation!" to which I would reply: yes they can! but you're right about the other thing.) It's my hope that a bit of concentrated effort will at least get it out of the Scary House On The Corner zone. (You kids get off of my lawn!) Or maybe I should just practice cackling and broom shaking and go with it. Hmmmm.

I'm also itching to paint (a room, not the great american abstract), and I think this will happen soon as well. Blondie always says "it's only paint!" and that it's the fastest way to change a room. She's right! I need some new vistas, a change of view; I need to think about things in a different way. This is starting to sound sort of TV talk show faux-empowering, so I had better back slowly away from the keyboard before I stir up my some-say-irrational-but-they-are-wrong Dr. Phil antipathy. I need to go buy paint anyway.

tune in next time to find out if my mysterious itchy-eye allergy is to TIME (my initial self-diagnosis: "I think my eyes are allergic to time. nothing else makes sense!!") or to cat dander (my aunt's counter-diagnosis: "you are not allergic to time! You are allergic to cat dander"). Please note that she is not a doctor, but she is bossy.

this was going to be that

Oh, man! I've been trying to write up a book I read ages ago forevah, but I keep getting sidetracked and distracted. I know! so unlike me. Anyway. No book write up tonight! I was going to work on it tonight/tomorrow, but I'm going to be working tomorrow and it's just not going to happen. So, I figured now is the perfect time to finally post this cool picture I took downtown, outside a yarn shop I have yet to go into. (I took this back in June when it was still 50 degrees all the time.) I like the crazy half-burlap dress in the window, and I like the reflection of the building across the street.

I can't wait to get my new camera! (did I mention that the "this" of the post title was going to be made up almost entirely of non-sequiters? Because I think it is.) Anyway, I believe I mentioned here a while back that some fancy Portland ad agency contacted me via flickr about possibly using some of my photos for an Oregon tourism campaign thingie. Well, it turns out they did, and they PAID ME. Woo hoo!! It did not make me Rockefeller (or Hackensacker) rich, but I'm going to get a new camera with the $$. It seems appropriate (and I need a new camera). I haven't decided on what yet, although I'm looking really hard at the Panasonic Lumix cameras. They have a leica lens, they have image stabilization, it will fit in my pocket, the lens is slightly wide-angle (so when I take pictures of things I have taken hundreds of pictures of, they will be a little different), and has slightly more zoom than the standard pocket point and shoot. And really, a point and shoot is all I need right now. I'd love to have a Nikon D-Whatever, but if I can't fit it in my pocket, I'm not going to be using it that much.

Speaking of non-sequiters, I got my very own copy of Lynda Barry's excellent What It Is for my birthday. Not just the book, but color copies of the "word list" in the back in order to make my very own WORD BAG, which is in the top 100 of coolest things ever. (or at least in the top 100 of cool things you cut out and put into bags!!) It's part of the exercise portion of the book -- 4 pages of words which you cut out and put in coin envelopes -- the mystery word envelopes then go into a Word Bag, from which you draw out words and write on that subject for however long. (haven't read all the instructions yet, but was all over cutting things out and putting them in envelopes. This is typical.) My paper nerdery is such that I happened to have enough coin envelopes for all but TWO words. Of course this meant I had to buy another box of coin envelopes! (and some pens and ... ) Anyway, you should at least LOOK at the book because it's really fun and cool, and I'm not just saying that because of Sea-ma the sea monster (who is the "class monitor" and is also very charming with her many eyes and inspiring work-ethic).

I will have more to say about it later, although the word "later" is starting to lose all meaning to me! It's now or never! (at least that's what Elvis said, but can you really take that kind of advice from a man in a rhinestone jumpsuit with a Jungle Room?) Okay. So, it's not now or never. It's LATER, which is not now, but also not never. Right? Right.

NEXT TOPIC: here are three words pulled at random from my Word Bag. Although it's a word box at the moment, because I have them all standing upright in the former box of coin envelopes:

beards
ears
caught

Hmmmm. I'm not really crazy about these words in such close proximity to Elvis and the Jungle Room, but this is how it is tonight in the realm of the non-sequiter. Let me try again:

illness
bully
cake


Speaking of cake: My sister gave me a perfect present for my birthday. It's a pendant made from an old typewriter key -- but not any old typewriter key -- THE INTERROBANG! Which is not only one of my favorite words to bust out on the unsuspecting (because it sounds dirty but is perfectly innocent! What is wrong with you people!?), but also because it is the punctuation that attends my most common response whenever I hear anything even slightly outrageous. (that response is "What!?" I say it a lot while watching the news.) Anyway. It is wonderful! I just have to shorten the chain a little bit, but that is easily done.

I had a really marvelous birthday week. There was raspberry picking, there was a picnic at the park with turtles on a log, there was lebanese lunch with numerology, there was movie-going, there was dinner-having, there was the best of all part of catching up with some people I haven't seen in a while. (best part 2: cutting out four pages worth of words to shove in envelopes!!) I think it's going to be a good year. Oh, wait! I have been told it IS going to be a good year -- no need to wonder. My metaphysically inclined friend informed me that if last year was awful (and in many ways IT WAS), it's because it was a 4 year for me. But this year is a FIVE which means many adventures or something along those lines. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but it sounded better than 4. (this is also the friend who has visions of me serving in the peace corps (!!!???) and something vague to do with motorcycles, although she really wishes I wouldn't since they are so dangerous. This despite my protestations that the peace corps and the motorcycle are equally unlikely.) I love LOVE love having lunch with her. I should do it more often -- since I'm in a five year, I think I will...

jangly ribs: the musical!

The moon, which is either full right now, full in a few hours, or full tomorrow night, is busy singing this weird Rogers and Hammerstein/Gilbert and Sullivan Some Enchanted Evening/ Modern Major General mashup. It's making me LAUGH but geez, moon, come on! Cut me a break. I blame this phenomenon on the following: 1) the moon is actually doing this. (it's obviously singing, and it looks like show tunes from here) 2) too much light opera in the workroom today (so funny! I was working in another area, but I could hear random bits of singing and shrieking laughter every time the door opened.) 3) jangly ribs cause hallucinations.

About that jangly rib issue: this is a self diagnosis, OBVIOUSLY, athough I expect it to catch on and soon there will be ads for Jangly Rib Syndrome Medication that air during prime time. (I think the medication should be m&m's or maybe frozen cherries.) I have this problem, see? Every time I wear a necklace with a pendant, the pendant ends up on one side or the other -- it never hangs in the middle! These are short necklaces, so it's not like I'm trying to be cute about some boob issue ala Thoroughly Modern Millie and her beads that won't lay flat. I gave this some serious thought today at lunch and decided that my ribcage must be off kilter in such a way that pendants can't stay centered. I'm crooked! Then I decided that maybe my ribs just jangle around in my chest when I'm not looking like coins in a pocket. From there it degenerated into a quickly abandoned theory featuring a small creature playing xylophone (or perhaps vibraphone!) on my ribs from the inside, which knocks pendants off center. I feel that this would also explain migraines, but it is a little too twilight zone to investigate seriously. So jangly ribs it is! "Doctor, I've got the rib jangle, and I'm afraid it's serious."

In library news, I think my favorite patron of the last two days was a little boy I helped yesterday. He was about six and had a towel stuck in the back of his t-shirt to make a cape. He came up to the desk practically VIBRATING with inarticulate excitement because he had found a DVD on how to do magic tricks. I think it's probably going to be a tough time for any rabbits, hats or slow-moving cats who cross his path in the next three weeks.

Speaking of weeks, I've had a pretty great one! More on that soon. I just had to post now in the hopes that by REPORTING on the moon, I could get it to shut up long enough to fall asleep. (oh, lord! you try to tell it that since it's an inanimate blob of space rock with no arms and no legs it doesn't get any choreography. I've had this argument before and I'm not having it again! at least not tonight.)

Sixty Poems

by Charles Simic This collection is a compilation that spans previous collected poems from 1986 to 2005. It came out in 2007, in honor of Simic being named Poet Laureate. It's a good introduction to or overview of his work, but some of my favorites are missing. (But maybe your favorites are all right here.. you'd better look and see.)

I bought my copy from Auntie's Bookstore in Spokane, Washington during my recent road trip. It was almost closing time -- Martina had already found something, I had talked my sister into a purchase ( a specialty of mine -- really all you have to say is "it's about beowulf!" or "geology, industrial architecture!" if it were about all three, she would buy ten copies), and I was wandering around and realized that I could also buy something. What a concept! They made the final closing announcement. I was fooling around looking here and there, Martina and my sister were already at the counter paying. Finally I spotted this collection -- hooray! I had a library copy at home, but there were a million holds on it, plus some things you just need on the shelf in case of emergency. Long story short, I ended up not having to pay any sales tax (Oregonians are apparently tax-exempt in Spokane), and the girl at the counter was really nice even though I was the horrible late customer who was late for no other reason than dawdling in the poetry aisle. I can only think that my good fortune was because she also loves Charles Simic.

I've written about him here before, so I will try not to repeat myself too much. I like him because he loves trees and movies and can't go to sleep. I love him because he loves the world even though it makes him crazy and sometimes depressed. He likes to eat, he likes to read, he enjoys the company of women. He's funny, he's crabby, he's sexy, he's kind. He's really smart. He takes a gentle view of humanity's foibles (because he is so human himself), but that isn't a free pass for our worst offenses (from which he doesn't excuse himself). He has a wild imagination, but tempers it just enough so that wildness is approachable; relatable, yet still mysterious. It may not make sense but I know what it means. These may not be woods I've been in before, but they are woods I know.

Here are two from this collection (which means there are 58 more!) It's always hard to pick because I like so many, but these were two that hopped out at me this time through.


Leaves

Lovers who take pleasure
In the company of trees,
Who seek diversion after many kisses
In each other's arms,
Watching the leaves,

The way they quiver
At the slightest breath of wind,
The way they thrill,
And shudder almost individually,
One of them beginning to shake
While the others are still quiet,
Unaccountably, unreasonably--

What am I saying?
One leaf in a million more fearful,
More happy,
Than all the others?

On this oak tree casting
Such deep shade,
And my lids closing sleepily
With that one leaf twittering
Now darkly, now luminously.



Club Midnight

Are you the sole owner of a seedy nightclub?

Are you its sole customer, sole bartender
Sole waiter prowling around the empty tables?

Do you put on wee-hour girlie shows
With dead stars of black-and-white films?

Is your office upstairs over the neon lights,
Or down deep in the rat cellar?

Are bearded Russian thinkers your silent partners?
Do you have a doorman by the name of Dostoyevsky?

Is Fu Manchu coming tonight?
Miss Emily Dickinson?

Do you happen to have an immortal soul?
Do you have a sneaky suspicion that you have none?

Is that why you flip a white pair of dice,
In the dark, long after the joint closes?

recently played

Monitor Mix had an interesting post about the shuffle/random function of the iPod a couple of weeks ago. I agree that using the shuffle function on the whole library is rarely satisfying, but I LOVE shuffling selected playlists. The one I use the most often is a "happy" playlist I started a couple of years ago when I was feeling sad. In the beginning I had to vet the songs carefully, because a stealth sad (or upsetting in some way) song could literally ruin my day. (I know, I know. I'm a sensitive delicate flower.) Thankfully, I'm feeling much better now and can tolerate sadness or sarcasm without taking it (quite so) personally. All that being said, the bedrock of this playlist (the one I listen to 90% of the time when I go walking) is made of songs that I love (that make me happy) for various reasons.

I have a whole PLAN to build a new playlist on my shuffle because it's smaller and the battery lasts longer. (My ipod is ancient as these things go.) Anyway, I know it sounds like a minor thing, but I'm all excited by the prospect of creating a NEW list, even though it will have many of the songs that the old one does. I think it needs to be longer, and I plan to be a little quicker adding and deleting things. (It was a big hassle with my old computer, but that's no loner an issue.)

So, since I haven't done it in a long time (and who doesn't love a list?), here are some songs I've heard on shuffle lately:

Campus -- Rostam Batmanglij: Fluxblog had this a while back, and I really like it. This is (according to the internet) an early, pre-Vampire Weekend version of the song. I'm surprised by how much I like it, since my experience with Vampire Weekend thus far has been either indifference or a tremendous urge to violence. I love the way this orchestral arrangement sounds; it's beautiful! I am neither bored nor do I wish to punch anyone in the head. Perhaps this seems like a strange rubric for success, but it works for me.

Grass Skirt -- All Girl Summer Fun Band: This is not particularly deep or thoughtful, but it's summertime and sometimes I just want to sing "it's green and it's itchy, but I don't mind/ when it's swishing through the breeze it feels so fine/ I've got my bikini top it's orange and red/ I'm a coconut princess and I'm gonna knock you dead/ in my grass skirt (grass skirt!) grass skirt (grass skirt!)"

It's Alright, Baby -- Komeda: I love this song -- it sounds to me like they're beaming down advice and assurances from another planet. They have the benefit of Big Picture Vision. These Swedish aliens are correct: it is a crazy world, it's a bit absurd. But it's alright. Woo Hoo.

"Woo Hoo It's alright, baby

It's a crazy world, it's a bit absurd

Woo Hoo It's alright, sugar

It's a crazy world, it's a bit absurd

Woo Hoo It's alright, honey

It's a crazy world, it's a bit absurd

Woo Hoo It's alright, it's OK

It- is- so- crazy"

Trouble In Mind -- Sam Cooke: This is one of the best "I'm feeling bad right now, I'll probably feel better later, but right now it's bad and that's just the way it is" songs. It acknowledges the blue "I got that trouble in mind, that's true/ I have almost lost my mind" but also that this is transitory "you know that I'm blue/ but I won't be blue always/ Yes, the sun gonna shine,/ in my back door someday" He's got a great voice for making you feel the sad, but also to feel the sun that's on its way.

Spanish Harlem Incident -- Bob Dylan: This always sounds like a hot weather song to me. Hot summer in the city. "Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem/ Cannot hold you to its heat./ Your temperature's too hot for taming,/ your flaming feet burn up the street." It's full of gypsy exoticism, which (like the hula girl picture above) is kind of troubling, (more accurately I like it, but worry that liking it is somehow insensitive) but at the same time he makes good use of that exoticism as a foil for his own self-questioning. "Let me know, babe, about my fortune/ Down along my restless palms." (restless palms! So great.) It could all be a poetic come on, or maybe just narcissism, "I been wond'rin' all about me/ ever since I seen you there." -- it's probably both and more. (restless palms! flaming feet!) "You have slayed me, you have made me,/ I got to laugh halfways off my heels./ I got to know, babe, will you surround me./So I can know if I'm really real."

Soul Finger -- The Bar Kays This is one of those brassy bassy songs that DEFIES YOU to remain grouchy. I can't do it! For 2.5 minutes it convinces me that everyone in the world could be having a good time if only they'd listen to this song. SOUL FINGER!

Strawberry Swing -- Coldplay: I neither hate nor love Coldplay. There are a few songs that I think are really pretty, but I don't go out of my way to expose myself to more. I went to bed before their segment on The Daily Show, for example. But then Said the Gramophone had this song, so I decided to try it. I'm glad I did! It's light, sparkling, undemanding -- like slightly carbonated strawberry lemonade. I enjoy hearing it, but I still wouldn't stay up to watch them, even on the Colbert Report.

hypnotist collector

I have been riding this weirdly growing bubble of melancholy of late. I think I figured out the core of it this morning. (I love figuring out the core of it!) The problem goes like this -- I will think that I have a grip on whatever the issue may be, but of course, I don't. Since I think I do, I get more and more agitated by the fact that I'm agitated. (I shouldn't be troubled, I have a grip, after all!) It's a self-feeding cycle of recursive ridiculousness on my part.

In this instance I thought I had things so well in hand, I really knew what was what! Well in hand = Victorian Lady Adventurer who has taken the issue, folded it neatly (like a flag), wrapped it carefully in tissue, put it in a box of just the right size, covered the box with brown paper and tied it with string (either jute or white string, I'm flexible) and filed it appropriately. In my mind, this would be at an establishment which specializes in storing the troubles of Victorian Lady Adventurers. I would hand the box to the clerk (pronounced clark, because of course we're in England) who says "very well, miss" and takes it from me, affixes some sort of cool looking tag with an alpha numeric code stamped on it, and files it somewhere neatly in back. (probably behind cases and cases of mustache wax, since this establishment has to keep a cover (barbershop supplies!) lest the troubles of Victorian Lady Adventurers are used in blackmailing schemes by disgruntled foiled villains.) I'd then turn to my companion and say "we'd best get back to the museum before they open the sarcophagus," and we'd head out of the dim room into the bright day where I would take great pleasure in everything, particularly thwapping people who deserve it (pickpockets, master forgers, etc.) over the head with my parasol. (and then somehow it turns all Mod and I've got a scooter and go-go boots, but I digress.)

But today I realized that I do not have it well in hand. It's not neatly wrapped and labeled behind cases of mustache wax, it's all over the floor! and it isn't something that folds neatly (like a flag) but is instead blobby, difficult to handle and of irregular size (a cross between flubber and Oprah's little red wagon of fat). It has never been contained, but I did throw some newspaper over it so I wouldn't have to look at it. I know this sounds gross and like bad news, but once I figured it out, I felt a lot better. I mean, the trouble's still there, but somehow saying "I see you!" makes it less difficult. I SEE YOU.

And now that I've solved my pressing mental problems, some notes from the park. (where I figured out my pressing mental problem!)
a few things seen today:

+++ crows doing their crow thing. Their crow thing often involves giving me an earful, but I figure it's a friendly earful. ( I can generate quite enough trouble on my own with out having to borrow it from CROWS.) Oh! this reminds me, there is one crow that loves to chase dogs. It's pretty hilarious. The dogs either love it or hate it. The crow doesn't care.

+++ Hummingbird giving the business to a crow. COMEDY GOLD! The butterflies are bigger than the tiny hummingbirds, but the crow was listening. (maybe they were gossiping about the squirrels, or the guy who always leaves 1/4 bottle of fancy microbrew on the end of a tree branch.)

+++ Albino swallowtail butterfly. I'm sure it wasn't really an albino because it had black markings, but instead of being yellowy-orange like they usually are, it was black and white.

+++ kung-fu wallflower -- there was a tall, skinny girl dressed mostly in black, but it wasn't black for chicness or slenderness, but black for maximum invisibility. Nothing flashy, the thing that stood out the most about her was how she barely seemed to be there. I saw her walking on the path, but figured she was just cutting through the park as a shortcut. The next time I saw her she was doing a little stretching, a few minutes later she was slicing up the air with practiced precision. It made me really happy, for some reason.