savoring slowly

I'm loving this book so, so much.
It's my second Pamuk novel. First I read Snow, which was just awesome. Istanbul seems so close when I'm reading his books...I can smell the coffee wafting out of dingy neighborhood bars and see the Bosphorus shining in the moonlight.
I don't ever want it to end...fortunately Pamuk's oeuvre is rather extensive, consisting of several masterpieces: Snow, The Black Book, The White Castle, Istanbul:Memories of A City , just to name a few. Then there's, as a friend put it, his B-sides for the hungry fan.
It seems nice to be the voice for an entire city, to know that what you are framing in words will mark for posterity the character of a place you love.
Not sure what I'd write about...Wildwood? Driving around? Drunk people outside of BellBottoms?

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old people make me cry

old people make me cry.
does anyone else have that problem?
yesterday i saw an old man with blood gushing down his face lying on the ground outside of Whole Foods. he probably fell; who knows what happened. all i know is the sight of him prone, so helpless in his faded blazer and khakis, just caused sadness to completely overtake me. what happened? did he trip on the curb? does he have anyone to take care of him? what are those people sitting over there eating their lunch thinking? why can't there be more people around to care? why do we have to live in a place where nobody ever interacts with anyone, where our circles of comfort need never be penetrated? why do i feel embarrassed and deeply sad right now? Is this a guilt stemming from my personal life, or is this society's guilt manifesting itself in me?
Why don't people just care more about the elderly?
all these thoughts happened in the span of a couple seconds. all of these questions, so important, will probably go unanswered, especially by those who desperately need to confront them.

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my fashion icon

Mix and match is how I roll. I don't buy outfits. I don't even really buy clothes, unless I'm in another country. Here in the United States I prefer to find them in the trash pile.
Maybe that's why I feel such an affinity for the crazy Edie Beale. She lived such a boring life. She scares me, because in a way she reveals a part many of us keep hidden. She sucked all the life from every moment. She was a contradiction. But in her you can see a glimpse of what happens when a product of society detaches from that society.
If you don't know who the heck I'm talking about, here's an morbid summation. If you don't care to know who I'm talking about, I just have a couple words for you: fishnets over shorts under a skirt that's been tucked up and under the waistband on one side. Yes! Or sweater, pulled only partially over head with sleeves tied at the crown of head, like a fabric ponytail. YES! And please, don't forget your ostentatious broach.
Edie captures the imagination, which I suppose is what fashion is all about. For me, though, she is the epitome of craftiness and bravery, which, when I do consider fashion, are the things I value most.

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le chose du jour

I've always admired the fun that Europeans manage to inject into their graphic design sensibility. They don't shy away from the silly, the lower-case, the cartoon, even when dealing with serious subjects.
Imagine my delight when I stumbled across these two little gems.



The first is Los Bajos de la Alta Cocina (loose translation: "the lows of high cuisine", which comes to us from Chef Aduriz at the amazing Mugaritz, outside of San Sebastian. The second is a fuego negro: pintxos y viñetas(loose translation: "a fuego negro: small plates and cartoons"), from the young chefs at one of my favorite places in the world, A Fuego Negro, in San Sebastian.
Leave it to the most innovative chefs to fuse cooking with art in a whole new way. These books bring the graphic novel into the kitchen. The Mugaritz book is hilarious, featuring the misadventures that come with a michelin-starred restaurant. A Fuego Negro's book is a bit more of a history, and includes a very nice selection of recipes. I'm seriously salivating over both, at a level comparable to the last time I was in their dining rooms.

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tele-life

I was thinking recently about how those who grew up in the 50s have the uniquely privileged position of belonging to both pre-TV and post-TV society. These people know a world I never will--one without television. They know what it is to have a lazy afternoon stretch infinitely before them, permeated by a quiet that no longer exists. They know a silence and a loneliness that cannot be replicated. We can turn off or even choose not to own televisions, but still their secondhand white noise exerts a kind of influence on us, clamoring

for a position in our brains.
Please stop to imagine life before TV. If you want, stretch out before radio. There was no such thing as immediate communication. Letters were about the quickest you got. It really takes mental acrobatics to imagine this kind of life. And it makes me want to shed a little tear when I think about how it is absolutely irretrievable. I can write the letters (only to get texts in return!), get rid of the tv, keep the radio off, but still technology and webs of communication shape my life.
That's not even thinking about the Internet, although maybe we should. My generation may very well someday be the subject of a rant like this one. I remember my first experiences with the Internet-sitting in a study in my friends house, on Instant Messenger, in 1994. I was ten. The Internet stayed out of the spotlight for several years after that--it was only in high school that it began to truly be an essential part of life for the majority of the population. Perhaps I too occupy an enviable position for having experienced life without the urgency of the Internet. Only time will tell.

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of time and the city

This cine-poem is a jewel, as much for viewers with no attachment to Liverpool as for lovers of the city. Terrence Davies' voice plays over the images in his latest film, Of Time and the City, some of which are pulled from history (my favorites) and others that are filmed a la PBS (not quite so inspirational). His words had me scrambling for a pencil and paper: "that is the land of lost content/i see it shining plain/ those happy highways where we went/and will not come again." Okay, so that's A.E. Housman. But still. A lovely documentary.

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le chose du jour

If you are planning (which you should be) on reading 2666, by Robert Bolaño, just go on and buy this box set. I love the broken down format along with the rough cardboard exterior. More on the actual content of this book I'm loving later, when I finish the 900th page. Trust me, it's one you'll want to own.

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le chose du jour

I just found out my friend has drawn all these wonderful cards for an e-card website. I think they are majorly cute. Go here to send one to someone you love today!

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le mot du jour

This past week it seems like everything has been roiling. Not rolling, not boiling, but roiling. The word has appeared at least thrice in the Times in the last seven days, usually to refer to the economy or the financial markets.
The Webster defines it thus: ROIL-"make turbid by stirring up the sediment or dregs of" or "to move turbulently : be in a state of turbulence or agitation". So kind of like roll, kind of like boil, but chock full of its own special significance and shades of meaning. Where did this unlikely verb come from? Chances are it was probably coined in the late 1500s, inspired by rouiller, French for "to rust, make muddy."
Don't you love words you know that student of English as a second language will ever learn?

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Europe-21. USA-One. Wait, make that two.

So, Europe is still winning. They have the culture, the food, the urban planning, the languages, the art, the Euro, the history, the Catholicism, the Nutella, the public transportation, the dashing first ladies, the tourism, the budget airlines, the UNESCO world heritage, the social safety net, the inexpensive wine, the playful graphic design, the artisans, the cafes, the olive trees, and the Camino de Santiago.
BUT. And it's a big But. We have Barack Obama--and they're all jealous. It's not Barack insomuch as his race that begets this feeling. Everyone is envious of the position of race in America-- specifically, its approaching irrelevance. The truth behind the 1960s is finally revealing itself. It's not that we were the most bigoted, racist nation--we were just the first to go through these growing pains, and right in the public eye. All the water hoses, bombings, and civil rights struggles did not signify that we were backwards and close-minded, but that we were hurtling toward the future at a pace far outstripping that of our Atlantic neighbors. From Carla Bruni hoping for an "obama effect" in France to the struggles facing these countries as a whole regarding immigration, it is obvious that the United States is still THE place for dreams and, hey, let's be honest here, people of color.
Oh, and we also have peanut butter.

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Change. Big Time.

Across the world exclamation points abounded and hope seems to be sparked anew.


FRANCE::Le Monde
"L'Amerique choisit Barack Obama"/ America chooses Barack Obama
SPAIN::El Mundo
"Cambia el color de historia"/ He changes the color of history
GERMANY: Rheinische Post
"Die Wiederauferstehung des amerikanischen Traums" /the repurchasing of the American Dream
ITALY: Il Messaggero
"Obama è il nuovo presidente degli Stati Uniti:Il cambiamento è arrivato"/ Obama is the new president of the USA: Change has arrived
KENYA: Daily Nation
"In Kenya, A Holiday, Song, And Dance for Obama"

I felt excitement and pride last night. My cynicism was stripped away, at least for the moment, and it felt awesome. Like being a little kid again. God bless America!

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if on a winter's night a traveler

I believe books fall into one of three categories:
1) trite and boring
2) really well-done and interesting, yet unoriginal
3) masterpieces of originality and beauty.
I prefer to choose books that fall in the third category, but I fail as often as I succeed.
Here, we have a masterpiece.
Okay, I know I am a little behind the times here, raving about a book published in 1979. But this title definitely deserves a little dusting off the shelf.
Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler is engaging in a meta-meta-narrative postmodern-before-postmodernity-really-existed kind of way. Don't misconstrue my meaning-this book is only as cerebral as you want it to be. The basic premise is a story of a Reader in search of a novel that is interrupted repeatedly, only to be replaced by a different, equally addictive book.
With themes of uncertainty, miscomunication, and mystery threaded throughout, if on a winter's night a traveler

is a unified whole, despite a structure that breaks it up into (depending on how you look at it) two or 11 different books. The successful use of the second-person is a breath of fresh literary air. Of note to writer-readers, Calvino employs a technique of talking about writing in the narrative that is not only fascinating, but potentially quite useful.
Apart from the more serious, critical aspects of the novel, it is just plain enjoyable. And that is the true mark of a masterpiece.

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le chose du jour

EDUARDO CHILLIDA: A sculptor vasco that embodies his culture's contradictions, beauty, and persona.
His sculptures bear resemblances to rocks, yet the finite, sharp carvings made in them bring them out of the natural realm. These granite and steel sculptures can be found in the lush hills outside of San Sebastian, Spain. Situated on a perfectly rolling landscape, they fuse with the history of the countryside, weathering the same wind and rain, reflecting the same light and shadows that los vascos have for centuries.

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shiny, new

You know that liberating feeling when you realize you can do something previously thought impossible?
yeah.
You can get wax off of fabric, and I'm talking the whole, greasy stain, not just the hardened crust.
Here's what you do:
1)pop offended item in freezer
2)scrape off the wax once hardened
3)soak in mineral spirits, rubbing at stains
4)rinse with alcohol (the kind for rubbing, not drinking)
5) let dry
6)launder

It. Works.

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election year revelation

My brow has a few added furrows from thinking about how hot-button issues figure into my voting this November. Abortion rights, for example. I don't like abortion. But, I also generally don't like Republican policy. So how does one reconcile these two issues in the ballot booth?
Well, people, let's talk it out.
Say McCain gets elected, puts another strictly conservative judge into the Court. Roe v. Wade gets overturned, right? Wrong. Abortion rights don't really hang on that one vote, as conservatives would have you believe in an election year. Don't believe me? Okay, so let's say Roe v. Wade does get overturned.
Then what? Well, the states get to decide individually whether abortion is legal. Yep, that's right. The battle is not won; it is merely passed along. Let's face it: most states would keep abortion legal.
So, Catholics, your vote for McCain is not a vote to end abortion.
Alternatively, Obama wants to offer prenatal and maternal support, more expedient adoption, and maternity leave laws as a way to pre-empt abortion. Does that make great, great sense to anyone else?
Please take a close yet holistic look at your values and see how they align with each candidate. (I'm thinking feeding the poor, I'm thinking the value of life, including those fighting in faraway countries...)

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my family

That's my husband and my daughter.
We spent the week on a farm, loaned to us by some of our dearest friends. Two bedrooms + endless supply of chicken eggs + assorted farm animals = perfect family vacation!



Really, Buckley? Are you really that cute?



Reality isn't good enough for us. So we make our own.

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i am america

Over the years, I have been made to feel confused, guilty, stupid and sad about my disenchantment with this country. In an attempt to cure myself of these feelings, here is where I spill a couple of the reasons.

I. Cities and Sidewalks
As Enrique Peñalosa, the former mayor of Bogotá, said recently: "when you construct a good sidewalk, you are constructing democracy...We are designing cities for cars, cars, cars, cars. Not for people. Cars are a very recent invention. The 20th century was a horrible detour in the evolution of the human habitat. We were building much more for cars' mobility than children's happiness."
I cannot overstate my indignance at the existence of places that literally cannot be reached without four wheels and an engine. It turns us into little islands--I cannot walk to the major shopping center less than a half mile from my home because it is bisected by a major interstate, with only a four lane highway crossing it. STuck.

II. Food, Or Lack Thereof
The state of the market here in America is deplorable. I'm talking super-, not stock.

And it all began with private interests interfering in a governmental attempt to interfere with the foods Americans eat. When a link was found between the consumption of animal products and poor health, an attempt was made to make Americans cut back on them--until, that is, private interests intervened and revised the rhetoric to point out individual nutrients as harmful or beneficial instead of whole foods. Thus, according to Michael Pollan, began the age of nutritionism.
Now the vast majority of the population cannot cook, shops in the middle of the grocery store for foods that last longer than seems possible, and, oh yeah, is really fat.
I long for a place with a culinary heritage. I suppose the cultural mixing pot that we are ( a good thing) makes that unrealistic, but I cringe when I think that Americans look to the latest studies to determine what they buy and what they eat. Newsflash, people! That is never going to work. Something really deep in the American psyche is going to have to change. Fruits and vegetables have such a bad rap here, with young people, males, and baby boomers. I feel like vomiting when I hear people deride a diet filled with them.
Example, upon expressing distaste for the Fast Food Burger, a response I got: "You're not one of those organic people, are you?" Honestly, I don't know what that means.

more to come, i'm sure...

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town.

goings on for your enjoyment...

Thursday, July 17
5-7 Wine and Tapas tasting at Wine Cellar $5
5:30-6:30 wine tasting at mt. brook Western $5
6:00 Thursday Night Live at Tria, live music
? affordable late night Little Savannah

Friday, July 18
5-7 wine tasting at Tria
5-7 wine tasting at Wholefoods
5:00-9:00 Art Opening at Hawthorn Gallery (3rd ave n)
5-10 Art On the Rocks at BMA

Saturday, July 19
7:00 pepper place
8-5 A'Mano 75% off market day
12-2 wine tasting at Wholefoods
2:00 coffee tasting at Primavera Roasters 9691177
4:00 AL Outdoors Backpacker seminar
7:00 open mic at Greencup Books 105 RABlvd poetry




Thursday, July 24
5:30-6:30 wine tasting at mt. brook Western $5
5:30-8:30 art opening at Amanda Schedler fine art
6:00 Thursday Night Live at Tria, live music
? affordable late night Little Savannah

Sunday, July 27
art lecture at Avondale Park Library

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bright shiny morning

James Frey's new book, Bright Shiny Morning got somewhat slammed this week in the New York Times Book Review. The reviewer seemed to pride himself on his central thesis, which was, essentially, that this novel reads too much like non-fiction and Frey's much publicized non-fiction turned out too be too close to fiction.
Clever. But I actually found the book to be an enjoyable experience, and not at all oversimplified as the reviewer pointed out.
Facts about Los Angeles separate each of the chapters, which sketch the lives of various Los Angeleans, The city becomes a character in its own right, with its promising start as a land of hopes and dreams (and angels) slowly spiraling into a mess of highways, lack of water, and overdose on drugs and crime. This spiral is echoed in the stories of the main characters, Amberton, a movie star, Dylan and Maddie, two small town kids looking for a better life, and...

...Esperanza, the hispanic maid. Are these stereotypical characters, as the NYTimes reviewer points out? Yes. Are they any less riveting for that? No. And I believe they have enough flesh on them, pockmarked and dimpled with Frey's rapid-moving prose, to seem true to life.
I say Forgive Frey! His past sins have no bearing on this beautiful book that links a city (in a portrayal that will serve as a history as well as a story) with those who live and are ultimately subsumed by it.

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those sunday drives...

A week or two ago, I read a letter to the editor in the Times that went a little something like this:

I think the Freakonomics guys, Stephen J. Dubner and Steven D. Levitt, may have missed the boat on two points with the suggestion that insurance rates be adjusted by the number of miles people drive (“Not-So-Free Ride”).

First, is there any research to show that Americans are really driving wastefully? I don’t know of anyone who goes on a “Sunday drive” anymore, though it used to be a popular event in my childhood. I think that we have cut our driving significantly due to the current high cost of gas.

Second, they have not accounted for the driving skills acquired with experience. I’ll bet that people who drive only 2,000 miles a year are more accident-prone, making them a higher insurance risk, than those who drive 30,000 miles a year.

BILL GILLOOLY
Northborough, Mass.

Oh. My.
I can just see this elderly man sitting in his early '90s suburban style home, smiling smugly in all his perceived logical-knowledge-filled state.
You ask for research? Evidence that Americans are driving wastefully is everywhere you look, buddy. Remember when you got in the car yesterday and drove that half-mile to the grocery store for a loaf of sliced white bread? THAT was wasteful driving. The entire infrastructure of the country is devoted to wasteful driving, which is unfortunate, considering that every mile we drive today costs fifteen cents in gas...


That does not include hidden costs, such as those to the environment, or other costs accrued by the driver.
In fact, anyone who lives more than a mile or two from their daily place of business is driving wastefully. The ability to live 30 miles from where you earn your living is a really new advancement in human culture. And I, with a few exceptions, honestly believe that commuting more than ten minutes starts to make you a bad person. Okay, that's not true--after all, well-situated real estate can be hard to come by. Phrase it this way: in an ideal world, we would all live within a thirty minute walk to where we needed to go, and we would walk it, chatting briefly with our neighbors, letting our muscles do what they were made to do, taking in the outdoor air, and letting our mind wander.
For those who are interested, this ideal situation does exist. It is known as "the rest of the world," i.e. Europe, Africa, Asia, and South/Central America.

...and don't even get my Catholic a** started on this one:

Other than a tangential mention, human overpopulation went unaddressed in your issue. It’s a sad fact that in these times there is no such thing as an “environmentalist” with more than one kid — unless the additional ones are adopted, of course.
STEVE HEILIG
San Francisco

AAAHHH! What's natural is having kids! What's unnatural is watching tv, driving cars, using microwaves, petroleum, the internet....must I go on?

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