small & barely perceptible

finished paisley notebook yesterday, started teal feather journal today.

monday and tuesday were full and pretty frantic, so today was slow and a little dull, a tiny bit depressing.  but a few small, good things happened.

sexy close-up of my artist's shrine/altar thingy.

1) yesterday i finished another artist's way morning pages notebook.  i did the artist's way last summer and, though i didn't have the huge breakthrough that some adherents profess to, i'm still noticing the changes that continue to occur.  now i'm quite wedded to the act of  spending time every morning writing in a meditative writing practice, one that's separate from my artistic writing practice.  a sitting meditation or a silent prayer practice has never worked  for me, but this notebook thing.  i'm trying not to sound fanatical about it.

as a formerly cynical person who didn't believe in anything. . . . i might be starting to develop some sort of. . . belief?

wow.

i can't believe i said that.

if you squint, these kind of look like a cool textile print or something.

2) sweet potato/russet potato garlic home fries.  the way they looked all lined up on the baking sheets, kind of design-y and all, brought me a surprising amount of pleasure.  and then they looked great after they were roasted and browned.  and then they tasted great.

(hint:  it's all about the flaky salt, which you should add before, during, and after the roasting process.)

believe me when i say:  flaky salt must be applied before, during, and after

3) moses was home recovering from strep throat today.  it's a great moment when, suddenly, the antibiotics have done their job and the kid starts eating and jumping around and laughing again.  i always say strep throat trumps a virus any day. (except when you're an adult :( )  24 hours of pink liquid and you're golden.

i might need to ask for her new book, dream more, for christmas. . . .

4)  dolly parton and stephen colbert singing love is like a butterfly together.  i'm sorry.  i know i need to join a dolly super fan support group, but i love her SO much.  i love her laugh, especially, and the way, even though she's lost a lot of her voice to age, she still works it, still has so much soul.

legwear: yoga pants

looking forward to: seeing anna karenina with friends this weekend

inspiration: dolly's laugh

summer symptoms & a little reflection

the shrine at the hell's backbone grill gardens in boulder, utah

i'm feeling that familiar anxiety, the existential anxiety of freedom, that i've experienced every summer for as far back as my memory extends.

the hours a week where i have to be somewhere to do my job are drastically reduced, but the number of projects and work i want/need to do are mounting.  i really miss having to be at work.  i'm a weirdo.

this is a nice problem to have, i know, and i don't want to sound ungrateful for the luxury of this kind of life.  i probably do anyway.

one thing i've loved about daily blogging this year is the little bit of structure it puts into my day, and even if it's not clear why i'm doing this, or for whom, i still do it anyway.

so, thank you world, readers, technology, & julie for the opportunity.

the lessons i'm trying to learn/re-learn come from yoga (sorry i'm such a yoga nerd), and this blogging project in particular seems to reinforce some of the teachings:

1) gaze at the tip of your nose.  my yoga teacher says this.  i think it means to stay present and focus on your own actions and no one else's.  (is this the same as "stay on your mat?")  this is probably most important for me.  i tend to think too far ahead, get tripped up by fears of the future and regrets of the past, and to compare myself to others too frequently.  beginning to work through this has been a profound experience for me.

2) practice, practice, practice.  for as long as you live.  every day is different, every day is practice, and arriving at a static point means you're dead.

3) falling is learning. for me this is a strong lesson because i used to think that falling was failing, and now i think it's progress, a step towards overcoming fear, a move towards the embrace of risk.  in poetry writing,  i feel like my best work happens when, at the moment of writing,  i think i'm doing something totally stupid, weird, or wrong, but i do it anyway, even if i'm scared.  my best work comes from not rejecting scary practices.

legwear:  bare, with the striped dress i wear too much.  at least i didn't wear yoga pants all day again today.

inspiration:  yoga teachings and daily blogging, whether i'm in the mood to blog or not

looking forward: to the provo farmer's market on saturday, my first one of the season & eating street tacos, tortillas hecho a mano.

wednesday: a list

1) hiked up rock canyon at 7 a.m. with kirsti & talked about women artists with her until i realized i needed an inhaler to get up any higher.

2) got lula off to camp.

seeing francesca woodman show in nyc.  i forgot to write about the show.  but i will.  it was terrific.

3) signed up three kids and me for the summer reading program at the provo city library (aren't you proud, julie?) brought home two armfuls of books.  i hope julie will post/link us to some of her fabulous librarian lists.

4) poured over one of my new library books, ad hoc at home by thomas keller.  this book is seriously beautiful. i'm a little jaded about cookbooks, but this one really got me all excited to cook again, as i've been a little burned out/not home of late.  tomorrow i plan on making brioche from his book.  also excited to make the five melon salad when the melons come on.

5) wrote a poem, using the "rock, paper, scissors" prompt from april's poetry month daily prompts feature from janet mcadams (and a couple from me, as well.)  i'm working on keeping up a daily poetry practice this june.

6) went to monica's yoga class with eva.  gave in to the temptation to do shoulder stand, which always kills my neck, and sure enough, my neck is dead now.

7) taught my online class.

8) washed and dried but did not fold a load of laundry.

9) looked for interesting new places to submit poems.  didn't find them yet.

10) thought about how lame my parenting has been for the first two days of summer.  need to get a plan, a schedule, or something.

11) watched 3.5 episodes of restaurant impossible.  it's really not a great show, and yet i can't stop watching it and imagining what i would do if it were my restaurant.

12) researched soup dumplings and found a good looking recipe for them.  cecily requested we make them (she checked out a novel about dumplings from the library today, dumpling days by grace lin.)

13) read a couple of interesting poems from allen grossman's collection, titled after the poem how to do things with tears.

14) got into my nightgown at 6 p.m.  got out of bed at 7.30 to eat the delicious baked pasta with spinach and tomato prepared by eva.  did the dishes and crawled back into bed.  what's wrong with me?

legwear: yoga pants, day two.  that's a warning signal for me.  i need to get into some more structured legwear/outfit tomorrow or risk sliding into the black hole.

inspiration:  thomas keller!!!!!!

looking forward:  a new day with no headache and more structure.  also, more poetry writing.

grief bacon & forest loneliness

this ist how i look saying things like "kummerspeck"

& "wald ein samkeit"

hipster burger joint uneeda burger in fremont

 a bunch of last little things from seattle:

1.  uneeda burger:  great fries, poutine, salad with locally grown asparagus and peas, burger topped with fried egg.  yum.

2.  ingrid is more hilarious than i ever knew.  i'm soooooo happy to have her back.  from the back seat of the mini-van, she cracked us up for 16 hours of road trip hell.  she also taught me the words kummerspeck (grief bacon--the weight you gain when you're depressed) and wald ein samkeit (the loneliness you feel in a forest).

i don't know the feeling of that kind of loneliness, not being of the forest but of the desert,  rather. yesterday i did experience the kind of loneliness you feel whilst driving through southern idaho for what feels like many days, though in normative temporal measurements it actually only lasts a few (desolate, barren, existentially harsh) hours.

the german language makes me happy that i can have context-specific loneliness and weight gain.  this makes me want to be more specific about everything.

also, did you realize that ingrid is frequently a top-rated commenter on youtube?  yep.  she is.  and that's a thing.  we worked on how to fit that into a resume line on our long drive home.

how can someone who looks so much like betty page be so wickedly funny?

greg taping scores backstage at the chapel

3.  greg is amazing.  i think i already said that.

i heard that thomas might cut his hair.  crazy.

4. thomas is amazing, too.  i think i already said that, too.  and we really, really missed eliza.  thomas plans to cut his hair and go on an lds mission soon, too, so we'll soon be missing him.

5. also, marni is amazing, but you already knew that.

memorial jam session outside cafe racer on sunday.  greg in hat.

6. the cafe racer tragedy hit close to home.  the fact that creative music is so integrated into the seattle community, and the fact that two of the victims were active bookers and supportive of this music made it especially poignant for us, though we've been gone from seattle for more than ten years now.  this letter kinda says it.

i love their matching eyes and mimi's white headband/red lipstick/striped shirt combo

7. mimi is amazing.  little girl is big now.  so smart and talented.  i heard her play grieg beautifully on friday night, and watched her study her head off.  another brilliant, talented campbell kid.

one more thing:

8. donuts.

artisinal donuts are huge everywhere, and very much so in seattle.  i've spent a lot of time at top pot, which i love for it's tall library, it's hot ovaltine, and it's rad airstream trailer.  downside is that it seems poised for corporatization and branding.  i'm sure that was in the plan all along.

mighty o, the organic vegan donut shop, has bright, unique flavors and are made with real fruit.  i watched marni charm the pants off a german guy in mighty o last week whilst buying 4 dozen donuts for her many young charges.  i thought he was going to ask her to run away with him.  he resisted, barely. 

at golden beetle, we had a little parchment paper cone set in a bourbon glass full of spiced donuts with a cardamom dipping sauce.  the dough had a creamy texture and was pleasingly spiced.  cardomom in dipping sauce almost (or completely?) indetectable.

may i speak freely?

okay, i like donuts as much as the next gal, but really, i mean, it's fried dough.  it's pretty hard to screw up, unless you insist on drenching in gosh awful poorly made glaze or filling it with a chemistry project of a lemon curd or bavarian cream (yeah, i know, too many bakeries are guilty of that).  but seriously.  artisinal donuts?  let's make those at home and let the fancy schmancy people make us something else.

i got a little tired of eating really good food in seattle that i could easily make myself at home.  i love you alice waters, and what you stand for, but i'm ready for a little virtuosity in my restaurants again.

9.  thanks for listening to my miniature food editorial.

10.  and p.s. if you've never made donuts at home, you should try it some time.

legwear:  yoga pants for unpacking and doing laundry post-trip.

inspiration:  miss ingrid & her german accent--also being home again and back in my routine

looking forward: to watching this week's dvr'd mad men right after i finish posting.

an utterly ridiculous list

the prada heels julie picked up at her kids' school's rummage sale.  all the women at my house have tried to wear them.  

here's what i intend to do this summer, even though i realize it's probably not  possible at all:

1.  send final draft of ph.d exam lists to committee chair. ( 1 hour)

2.  finish stage play. (40 hours)

3.  revise & submit second collection of poems, the gentian weaves her fringes. (8 hours)

4.  finish spanish language requirement for ph.d. (40 hours)

5.  finish new screen play. (40 hours)

6.  revise & submit paper on gertrude stein's miss furr and miss skeene. (20 hours)

7.  finish chaucer paper. (20 hours)


8.  finish poetics paper & allan grossman paper.(20 hours)

9.  go swimming. (2 hours)

10.  write episodes for new t.v. series,  l. m. l. (40 hours)

all i need to do is find 231 hours this summer to work on these projects. . . . i get more carried away with resolutions at the beginning of summer than at any other time of the year. 

somebody stop me.

to balance out frenetic mental activity, i'm reading and LOVING the book of meditative kabir poems eva gave me with a cd of kumar gandharva's singing of the poems. 

here's a fragment from a poem that really struck me today:

Like the musk deer*
who holds in his centre
enchanting aroma
but wanders all over
searching like a fool,
he sees his own mind
and comes to rest.
Where does the beautiful fragrance reside?
Between upbreath and downbreath,
concentration, rapturous form,
no description.
Kabir says, listen, seeker, friend,
self turns, merges 
with self. 


*translator linda hess' note:  "The musk deer is a common metaphor for the seeker who chases madly in search of a beautiful fragrance, not realizing it is located within herself."

legwear:  post church yoga napping pants

inspiration:  the beautiful fragrance within

looking forward to:  sunday dinner on the patio with the family

chance operations

 almost swerved into mcdonald's for a double cheeseburger, but resisted, came home, and made this instead

today i had lunch with a wonderful composer.   we talked about chance, randomization, happenstance, choice, improvisation and all that.

you know.

the stuff composers think about all the time.

my composer said:

the mind craves


both order & chaos

& i think he's right.  we're only comfortable with chaos for so long.

we're only comfortable with order for so long.

we need both.

here's my book balloon poetry prompt for today, inspired by the composer.  in the spirit of loving the order and the chaos equally well:

Poetry Prompt #4—Aleatory
A theme has seemed to emerge this month (thank you so much, Janet, and Book Balloon, for having me!) as I thought about practices that encourage innovation and progress in poetics:  that of lessening the over-determination of the poet.  It seems, at least in my own practice, that the more I focus on a specific outcome, the less successful my work, my life, and even my own heart feels.

This is not to say that there are not good times, places, and reasons to learn technique, to study hard, and to put your self through some rigorous training.  But there’s also a time and place to admit that words are much more powerful than the poets who use them, and we’d best step aside and let them do their work in the world.

With this in mind, I turned to composer John Cage & his practice of using the I Ching and chance operations to create new compositions.  Although Cage’s method of randomization was complex and ever-changing, we can simplify it and use chance to tap into the power of association, random happenings, and the smells, sounds, and smoke rings that emerge when words stand next to each other, no matter what the author’s intent.

This prompt has two phases:

Phase 1:

Roll a pair of dice.  Write down the number you roll and then compose a line inspired by that number. 

Your line must start with that number. 

If so inspired, you may continue and create a couplet, tercet, or a quartet.  (You may decide to continue working in couplets, tercets, etc., or you may decide to change the number of lines with each roll of the dice.)

Repeat for a total of ten rolls.

Phase 2:
Despite your intention to not have intention, themes may have begun to emerge,  and you may have begun controlling your text in all the devious ways we’ve been trained in, so phase two will help you to loosen your grip on the need to control again:

Roll the dice.  When you roll a number corresponding with a number that begins one of your lines, that line or group of lines becomes the beginning of your poem.

If you have more than one line beginning with that number, choose the group least likely to make a “good” beginning to a poem.

Your subsequent rolls will determine the order of the subsequent lines.  Each time a number corresponding with a group of lines comes up, that group will be next in the order of the poem.

Again, if you have more than one line beginning with the same number, choose the lines that seem the most out of order to go next.

Repeat until your poem has found its own order.


legwear: my favorite olio yoga pants

inspiration: randomness & vegetables

looking forward: to the tasty dishes my girls always bring to bookclub

let the table speak, dawg: poetry & hot dogs in provo

today was just.

totally rad.

& i don't say that lightly.

sandals--ready for spring break, still

totally rad day--eating dogs in the parking lot

1)  i did my first recording session in studio y with c.  it was one of the hardest and best experiences of my life.  i had to be a beginner again, and it was so good for me.  i probably don't have time, and you probably don't want to read 5000 words on this topic, but let me briefly summarize.  have you ever heard recordings of yourself?  it's painful.  and, while i love to sing and think i have some things to offer as a vocalist, i think of myself as a writer, and today i realized how much i have to learn.  the weird thing is, those four hours taught me more than years of singing, practicing, lessons, etc.  it was a baptism of fire.  for the first two hours i wanted to scream and run out of the building.  i had to squelch my pride, ego, perfectionism, etc., and that alone was worth the pain.  i coached myself through it by using all the stuff i tell my students about writing.  so i tried to practice what i preach.  i feel real good right now, in case you can't tell.

 2) went to dean's sweatshop yoga class and sweated.  we need to sweat more, don't we?  that made me feel real good, too.

3) rewarded ourselves with hot dogs from j-dawgs.  this place is a provo classic (for a list of more provo classics, check out this post.) j-dawgs is a local joint that started out as a hot dog stand near campus.  cheap, tasty, local, and simple.  they make their own sausages in salt lake, and their own special sauce, and commission homemade buns from shirley's (another provo classic).  you can order your dogs "g", "pg", "pg-13", or "r", in a nod to mormon culture.  i get my dog "pg-13"--onions, sauce (i go light on the sauce), a great pickle, and banana peppers.  i embellish with a lot of spicy mustard.  "r" is just like pg-13 only with jalapenos.

you know who really got me into hot dogs?  one of our fabulous guest bloggers, marni.  go check her out if you haven't yet.

4)  posted my guest prompt for poetry month at book balloon (i'm guest prompting there each wednesday).  you should really register for book ballon and participate in the daily poem prompts on their forum--poet janet mcadams is posting daily instructions, and she'll also give you some feedback, as will other writers on the forum, so it's like a free poetry workshop.

i'm also posting today's guest prompt here, in case you want to try it.  the poets who posted their poems on book balloon came up with some really lovely pieces.

i'm gonna do my poem about tonight's meal at j-dawgs:  it was warm but cooling off as night fell, a full moon was floating over the mountains, sitting on a cast-iron table in an asphalt parking lot (reminded me of another great night in a parking lot--shakespeare in the parking lot with julie).

here's the prompt.  try it, and post it in comments if you want.

Let the Table Speak

By Lara Candland

I’m taking the idea from today’s prompt from one of my favorite poems, Li-Young Lee’s “Eating Together.”  In this poem, Lee uses a very spare and precise description of a family meal after his father’s death.  His poem is completely void of any “telling”—he never says they are grieving, or that the family misses their father, or even that he has died.  And yet we know all this because of what and how the family eats:

Eating Together

By Li-Young Lee

In the steamer is the trout  
seasoned with slivers of ginger,
two sprigs of green onion, and sesame oil.  
We shall eat it with rice for lunch,  
brothers, sister, my mother who will  
taste the sweetest meat of the head,  
holding it between her fingers  
deftly, the way my father did  
weeks ago. Then he lay down  
to sleep like a snow-covered road  
winding through pines older than him,  
without any travelers, and lonely for no one.

Here are your instructions:

1)    Describe a meal being eaten (it can be real or imagined).
2)    Focus on WHAT is being eaten and HOW it is being eaten.
3)    Try to avoid using abstract words or telling readers what the emotional tone of the meal is.  Let the WHAT and the HOW and the concrete details of the poem, like description of the food being eaten, the smells, sights, and sounds of the meal, and the characters present at the table (or car, or picnic blanket, or hogan floor, etc.), speak for themselves. 
4)    For example, if a food makes you feel sick or sad or confused, don’t tell that in the poem, but try to convey the sadness or confusion through the drab color of the tablecloth, or the smell of  the blown out candle at the table.  If it makes you feel happy, try to convey that with the taste and look of a bright yellow lemon, etc.
5)    You might want to try your hand at Lee’s minimalist style.  Notice how much emotional content he wrings out of those twelve short lines.  Can you do more with less?  That’s the real challenge and joy of this poem.

j-dawg bliss

polish dawg, pg-13

legwear: yoga pants & new sandals

inspiration:  the beginner's mind

looking forward: family time in az.

Hawk and Awe

Hawk and Awe

Hawk and pigeon (Better photo linked below)

Just returned from my first yoga class in a new yoga studio. There were four of us. I made a promise to breathe deeply and deliberately for the rest of the evening.

See?  I'm doing it now.

Earlier, I watched the red-tailed hawk in Tompkins Square Park tear feathers from a dead pigeon he had clutched in his right claw. He rained feathers on the humans assembled below him.  In response, the humans held their phones aloft trying to snap good pics. My lame pic is above.   I wish I could be my essential Julie nature as easily as this hawk is a hawk.

The hawk's mate was in an adjacent tree, but higher. He kept vocalizing to her--at least that was the general consensus of the humans--but she wouldn't come down.  I was in awe of the whole thing. We rarely get to see such dramatic examples of the natural world at work here, unless its squirrels or pigeons fighting over the same bread crumbs, an occasional sick rat stumbling out of its hole for water.

And before this, I paid one penny for this painting of a penny at Culturefix.

Leg wear: Striped leggings that took me to yoga and back


Inspiration: The hawk being a hawk, my co-blogger


Goal for the week:  Deep and deliberate breathe

girl power: ode to vida

the shameful numbers at the ny review of books

this blog, vida: women in literary arts, and this group of women writers is one of the most important things to happen for women writers. . . ever, i'd wager (i'd love to hear your thoughts on other important institutions and events that have promoted women writers and artists).

here's a classic example of girls kicking ass and getting out of tight places.

what they did, for those of you who haven't been following them, is start a thing called "the count" where they count how many women are being published, have bylines, are reviewing and are being reviewed in prestigious presses, journals, papers, and houses.

you might be surprised at how huge the inequity is.  or you might not. 

vida hasn't yet figured out the why, but they've got hard facts as to the what:  women are not getting published, awarded, or reviewed at anywhere near parity to men.

fact.

the count was started in 2010, and the 2011 results were just released.

so, cheers, vida, and thank you.

and thank you all you ladies who persist in the discouraging face of sometimes invisible, sometimes explicit, discrimination and keep doing it anyway.

legwear:  what's with the yoga pants?

inspiration:  shirking off discouragement

looking forward:  to tomorrow--got plans for saturday! no lurking about the house getting bummed out for this girl.

oh, and ladies:  you will be so much less prone to discouragement in a pair of beautiful new tights.  six more hours on the west coast to enter the GITP tights giveway.  just do it!

sigh

from mark bittman's article on easy-to-make dumpling, linked below

we have no good chinese food in provo.  i'm sorry if you disagree, but this cuisine is poorly represented here.  (apologies to the four seasons hot pot restaurant, which i have yet to try.)

last night we went to a new, weird place in town that served sushi, chinese bento, dry pot, and some things that looked like hong kong style chinese food.  i haven't had great dumplings in a while, so we started with steamed dumplings.

you know how amazing it is when you bite into a dumpling (a whole thing that i could talk about forever) and it's really hot and the juices spill down around your tongue, then the ginger and onion come forward and say hi, then you remember the chewy wrapper again, and the flavors and textures volley around in your mouth for a while?

then you swallow?

then you stick your chopsticks into the dish again for more?

well, that didn't happen last night.

the inside of my dumpling was lukewarm, mushy even, and i just can't forgive that.  i want the pork and vegetables fully steamed and held together in a beautiful little ball inside a beautiful little package.

i'm sorry that i'm such a food snob, or so prone to high expectations when i should try to be realistic.  i really tried to keep and open mind, to remember that i'm not necessarily living in a food mecca, to compare this dumpling to lesser, not greater, dumplings.

but i failed to be understanding.

i went home a little pissed off and deeply, deeply dissatisfied.

and you might say that i should have known better than to go to a sushi/chinese place.  and you might be right.

so i dug up another favorite poem that i used to teach in years past to try to clear my palate.

li-young lee writes beautiful food poems (and other stuff, too.)  they're not too precious and mouthy.  like the rice, ginger, fish and green onion in the poem i pasted below, his food writing strikes a simple and pleasing balance of a respect and love for every day food without fetishizing it.  and the food on the table of his poems is always accompanied by some other event, as it always is in life.

it's pleasing.  that's the best way i can describe his work.  not too extreme.  kind of gentle, but still striking and memorable, and i like the way he contextualizes things. he has a few notable food poems, but this one is especially clean and right.  & good for a palate cleanser.

i hope you like it, and that if you have other suggestions about great food poetry, you'll post them here.  also, check out alimentum, a journal devoted to literary food writing.

Eating Together

By Li-Young Lee 
 

In the steamer is the trout   

seasoned with slivers of ginger,

two sprigs of green onion, and sesame oil.   

We shall eat it with rice for lunch,   

brothers, sister, my mother who will   

taste the sweetest meat of the head,   

holding it between her fingers   

deftly, the way my father did   

weeks ago. Then he lay down   

to sleep like a snow-covered road   

winding through pines older than him,   

without any travelers, and lonely for no one. 

legwear:  jeez.  still wearing yoga pants from this morning's tough session (after a week out nursing my neck).  that's a bad sign, i mean still wearing yoga pants late in the day when one has already been to class.  yoga pants are not tights, though they do have their own thing going on, i must admit.

remember to get out of your yoga pants at least once a day, and maybe don a pair of super rad cosmic tights.

inspiration:  clean flavors--trout, ginger, scallion, rice.

looking forward: to seeing a dangerous method tonight.

p.s. last year at chinese new year's i made dumplings from scratch with hector, my neighbor's chinese exchange student.  we had a great time and they were very good.  and how often does a 100 lb. teenaged boy teach you to cook and discuss homer with you at the same time?  if you want to host your own dumpling party, here's a recipe to start with.  it'll be easy, cuz it's bittman.