Tuesday Project Roundup: More Fabric

I don't have anything finished to show today, but how about pictures of my latest fabric wants?

This past weekend, I started working with the grey fairy-tale print Liberty of London I bought myself over Christmas--my first time using any really "nice" fabric in over a year. So of course I now want ALL my fabric to be Liberty, and of course Liberty has obliged me by coming out with new spring prints:

Becci C--can't you see this as a tunic with contrast bands around the neck?

And here's Gilliam A, which is telling me it wants to be some sort of ladylike tie-neck blouse.

(Hey, my budget and I can dream, right?)

It's Monday

Lay on it like it's clean laundry and pretend it's still the weekend.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Let's just say, hypothetically, that you are going on a date for the first time in 4.5 years. What do you do? How do you act? Fortunately, Mystery Science Theater 3000 has found us this educational film, "What to Do On a Date."


"How about a weenie roast?" "Nick, NO!"

2. Related but not as funny, this essay about a first dance could have been written by me, down to the dress I was so convinced I had to have and the inevitable disappointment:
I cried because I’d believed with all my being that once I put on eyeshadow and a turquoise dress, I’d turn into a heroine of any of the slumber-party movies I’d watched. [...] I cried because at that moment, in a gymnasium decorated with crepe paper so that the gifted kids could feel not just smart but glamorous, I began to understand that not everything would come easy to me, and that some forms of failure could be intangible, inexpressible, and nonetheless undeniable. I cried because I wanted to be seen, and because nobody was ready or willing to see me.

3. And unrelated: Happy birthday to our friend W.A. Mozart.

Music History

In late winter I always revisit Russian music, and lately it's been Shostakovich. How about the finale to his Fifth Symphony to get your blood going this morning?


He wrote this after managing to get on Stalin's bad side with an opera and after pulling his Fourth Symphony to not further anger the dictator. The party was pleased with the Fifth (which the composer subtitled "A Soviet Artist's Practical Creative Reply to Just Criticism"), but, as Shostakovich later wrote:

I think it is clear to everyone what happens in the Fifth. The rejoicing is forced, created under threat... It's as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying, "Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing,'' and you rise, shaky, and go marching off, muttering, "Our business is rejoicing, our business is rejoicing.''...You have to be a complete oaf not to hear that.

More music history here. Happy Thursday, comrades!

Things That Made Me Happy Yesterday

1. Cat pictures:


(from my "Happy" Pinterest board, of course); and
2. This quote from M.F.K. Fisher:

A well-made dry Martini of Gibson, correctly chilled and nicely served, has been more often my true friend than any two-legged creature.

(from the final essay in An Alphabet for Gourmets. It's so true.)

Also: Happy birthday to Virginia Woolf today!

Tuesday Project Roundup: Namaste!

Around Christmas, I was talking to my yoga teacher and it came out that I knit. And she asked, "Can you make me some legwarmers?"

Because I feel the same way about my yoga teacher as I did about a few early grade school teachers ("You're so pretty! And so calm! And you're good at so many things I'm not!"), I said of course I would ("Teacher asked me to do a special project! Yay!").


I'm using this pattern but left off the foldover cuff, as you can see. I left it off because I wasn't sure I'd have enough yarn for it, but now I'm pretty certain I will. So do I go back to the first one and add it? I don't know if the drawstring would be fiddly during yoga or if it would help with the fit.

Maybe the legwarmer needs to live its way into the answer....

(And no, that joke still hasn't gotten old. If you couldn't tell.)

"And your heart felt good"

I was up Millcreek in the snow yesterday, climbing through the forest, and thought of the last chapter of A Moveable Feast where Papa talks about spending the winter in Austria, skiing and climbing through the forest:

No one could afford a broken leg. There were no ski patrols. Anything you ran down from, you had to climb up. That gave you legs that were fit to run down with.

[...] But climbing was fun and no one minded it in those days. You set a certain pace well under the speed at which you could climb, and it was easy and your heart felt good and you were proud of the weight of your rucksack. Part of the climb up to the Madlener-Haus was steep and very tough. But the second time you made that climb it was easier, and finally you made it easily with double the weight you had carried at first.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. A dear friend suffered a terrible loss this week, so putting up funny links or MST3K quotes doesn't feel right today. Instead, I will tell you to travel safely and hug your loved ones and try to make your part of the world more full of light.

2. I'll also give you a space picture, since that's how I cope:
(Click the image to see it bigger--every speck of light you see is a galaxy.)

This was the last image featured on The Atlantic's space Advent calendar. As the caption there said:
This Hubble image is one of several, including the Ultra Deep Field, which peer into seemingly empty space, leaving the camera shutter open for hours, and reveal that billions of galaxies made up of billions of stars fill our skies in every direction as far as we can possibly see, separated by almost unimaginable distance and time, yet still reachable, visible as an image of their long-ago selves.

Together We Sit

This is from last week, when it was sunny, but it will be sunny again.

WWPMD?

Sometimes you just need to read some Raymond Chandler at the end of a workday and have Phil Marlowe give you some perspective. Marlowe would have no patience for hippie platitudes or Rilke quotes, but even he knows that it's important to be a good human. Or at least try to be:

I stepped out into the night air that nobody had yet found out how to option. But a lot of people were probably trying. They’d get around to it.

I drove on to the Oxnard cut-off and turned back along the ocean. The big eight-wheelers and sixteen-wheelers were streaming north, all hung over with orange lights. On the right the great fat solid Pacific trudging into shore like a scrubwoman going home. No moon, no fuss, hardly a sound of the surf. No smell. None of the harsh wild smell of the sea. A California ocean. California, the department-store state. The most of everything and the best of nothing. Here we go again. You’re not human tonight, Marlowe.

All right. Why should I be?...Who am I cutting my throat for this time? ...All I know is that something isn’t what it seems and the old tired but always reliable hunch tells me that if the hand is played the way it is dealt the wrong person is going to lose the pot. Is that my business? Well, what is my business? Do I know? Did I ever know? Let’s not go into that. You’re not human tonight, Marlowe. Maybe I never was or ever will be...Maybe we all get like this in the cold half-lit world where always the wrong thing happens and never the right.

Now, wait a minute...You’ve got the wrong attitude, Marlowe. You’re not human tonight.

(This is from Chapter 13 of The Little Sister; read the whole chapter here)

Tuesday Project Roundup: Not Photographing Well

The latest project is a gray wool flannel dress, since it's too early to be thinking about spring sewing. The flannel had been hanging around in my stash for a year or two, waiting to see what it would be (even fabric can live its way into the answer!) and I/it finally decided on a tailored plain dress.


I used this boatneck version of the shift dress from my trusty Built by Wendy Dresses book and lined it to boot. I'm very happy with how it turned out, but I could not get a decent picture of it last night. When I'm not talking pictures, I promise it hangs evenly on my shoulders, and I don't think it looks quite so much like a gray sack in real life.

At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

It Is

This will make you happy--David Attenborough recites lyrics to "It's a Wonderful World" set to nature images.


An excellent way to start the week.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. The latest issue of O Magazine is all about poetry, and it includes an interview with Mary Oliver (our favorite). It's a big deal because she doesn't give interviews and is in her 80s. It's also a delight. Some quotes:
There were times over the years when life was not easy, but if you're working a few hours a day and you've got a good book to read, and you can go outside to the beach and dig for clams, you're okay.
and:
It's hard to meet a stranger—you give of yourself—and if I did that, I'd want to do it well.

(I'm stealing that one as an excuse not to meet people or go to social events.)

2. My inner hippie wants to use Khalil Gibran as a career planner. Let's talk her out of that, shall we?
Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

I Think Of Space

I realize it's only been a week, but just Tuesday I was thinking, "Being kind and non-judgmental and happy is going so well!"

Then, of course, yesterday happened. So today I am re-grouping and thinking about space. This is Dr. Neil Tyson telling us we're all connected, much more eloquently than I did:



"We're all connected--to each other, biologically; to the earth, chemically; and to the rest of the universe, atomically...It's not that we're better than the universe; we're a part of the universe. We're in the universe and the universe is within us."

Let that thought get you through the rest of the week.

Book List Recommendations

I've been thinking about the 12 books I want to read for the 3+2 Things and have come to the conclusion that I don't read new things because I can't make a decision. So maybe you have some recommendations?

I thought I'd try to split my list about 50/50 between holes in my classics and new stuff. Let's see where we stand:

CLASSICS
I have four for sure:

• Brave New World
• 1984
• A Passage to India
• Brideshead Revisited

What should the last two be? I'm thinking more along the lines of John Updike than Joseph Conrad. I've avoided dystopian stuff, but what about Vonnegut? Or The Handmaid's Tale?

NEW STUFF
As for new stuff, I know I want to read

• something by Jeffrey Eugenides
• something by David Foster Wallace
• and something by Jonathan Safran Foer
  

However, after those three I'm at a loss. Do I pick the National Book Award winners from the last few years (The Corrections)? Do I read what's popular (The Hunger Games trilogy)? I'll take any recommendations you have.

And I'd I'd better get to the library soon.

Tuesday Project Roundup: A House Project

After taking down Christmas decor the house seemed barren, so my new goal is to add more decor and accessories. I started with the office and added bulletin boards on each side of the desk:

This is another fabric-covered Homasote board, just like the one in the sewing room. Since I had leftover Homasote board on hand, this project only required one yard of fabric and the loan of my dad's staple gun again. Here's a close up:


I'm really happy with the result (but anything turquoise and orange has a 99.9% chance of maing me happy.) There's certainly more decor in the room than there was this time a year ago:

The Ultimate Sunday Night Conversation

My friend was talking about a store meeting he gave and described his staff's reaction (ranging from support to "reverence" to frustration to anger, apparently) and announced,

"I'm the Kim Jong Il of social stationers."

I'm pretty sure I don't need to call him ever again because I don't think he's ever going to top that line.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Stephen Hawking is turning 70 soon and so is giving interviews. In one with the New Scientist, he was asked, "What do you think most about during the day?" and answered, "Women. They are a complete mystery."

I know it's just a soundbite, and I know we're supposed to think he's being a charming old man, but I have to think of Carl Sagan making the argument to include women in The Explorers Club:
But we presumably are adults, with a special responsibility for interacting with all humans on this planet.

Maybe we can think of each other as human adults first, and then genders second? You've done way more complicated things, Dr. Hawking.


2. I bet you were just thinking, "How come there isn't a Tumblr for Mystery Science Theater ephemera?" Well, there is. And it's called F** Yeah MST3K. And it's full of gems like this:

Advantage: His

My brother has started a blog for the new year, and he has a secret weapon: Daily pictures of Skyler. Go check it out and get your fix of baby cuteness and antics (and tractors). It's called Living with the Bubbs.
See what I mean?

A Poem For The End Of The Holidays

We've taken down all the Christmas things but there's still a lot of winter to get through. William Carlos Williams will give us some insight and remind us of the birds outside:

At the winter's midnight
we went to the trees, the coarse
holly, the basalm and
the hemlock for their green

At the thick of the dark
the moment of the cold's
deepest plunge we brought branches
cut from the green trees

to fill our need, and over
doorways, about paper Christmas
bells covered with tinfoil
and fastened by red ribbons

we stuck the green prongs
in the windows hung
woven wreaths and above pictures
the living green. On the

mantle we built a green forest
and among those hemlock
sprays put a herd of small
white deer as if they

were walking there. All this!
and it seemed gentle and good
to us. Their time past,
relief! The room bare. We

stuffed the dead grate
with them upon the half burnt out
log's smoldering eye, opening
red and closing under them

and we stood there looking down.
Green is a solace
a promise of peace, a fort
against the cold (though we

did not say so) a challenge
above the snow's
hard shell. Green (we might
have said) that, where

small birds hide and dodge
and lift their plaintive
rallying cries, blocks for them
and knocks down

the unseeing bullets of
the storm. Green spruce boughs
pulled down by a weight of
snow--Transformed!

(from "Burning the Christmas Greens," 1944, discovered here.)

32

Today is my birthday, which means it's time for new goals for this age. (It also means I'm just a decade away from being the age that's the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything.)

Instead of 3 definite goals + 1 optional goal, this year I have 3 that are quantitative and 2 that are qualitative--so 3+2 again, except the "+2" things aren't optional, just difficult to put a metric to. Here they are:

1. Take a fiction writing class
I always picture myself writing fiction on my ranch in the distant future, but I haven't written anything since college. I know myself well enough to know I need a deadline to actually produce something, so taking a class will hopefully get me going.

2. Write 3 short stories
These can be very short stories, and they can be part of what I have to do for class, but this goal will theoretically give me the deadline I need to keep writing.

3. Read a new book a month
For someone who likes to read as much as I do, I don't read new things. I have Sherlock Holmes, M.F.K. Fisher, Hemingway, and Salinger just about memorized, but I've missed out on most of the new books from the last 15 years and still have holes in my classics (1984, Brave New World, any Updike, etc. ). So this goal will help address that a little. (I'm still picking my 12 books, so stay tuned.)

and the +2:

+1. Be happier in my work
This is qualitative for now because I don't know what it's going to take for me to be happier. Just an attitude adjustment? Some internal changes at my current job? A different ad gig? A radical career shift? I've been pondering this for a while now, but I'm still "living my way into the answer." (Damn, that is a useful quote--I'm not lost; I'm deep.)

+2. Less judgement, more compassion
I've never felt particularly kindly towards my fellow man, but as I get older I don't need my hard little heart to become even harder. You can give yoga or the Buddha credit for this one, but I like to give it a scientific spin, too: We're all made of the same atoms from the same universe. And we're all here on this tiny planet all together. And that's all we've got. So let's all be a little kinder to each other, starting with myself.

Or, as my boyfriend Carl Sagan says:
Every one of us is, in the cosmic perspective, precious. If a human disagrees with you, let him live. In a hundred billion galaxies, you will not find another.

We will see how well I can put the last two Things into practice when I go back to work tomorrow...but for today, I'm going to climb a mountain.

Happy New Year From My Inner Hippie

(My holiday cards this year.)

Related: Woody Guthrie's "New Year's Rulin's" from 1942. I like how "help win war - beat Fascism" is at spot 27.

Unrelated: Happy birthday to Isaac Asimov today, and yesterday to E.M. Forster and my buddy J.D. Salinger.