24 posts tagged “books”

Once again, bedtime rolled around before I realized I hadn't taken any photos for the day.  Gah.  So I snapped this when I climbed into bed to read.  BUT, I did get a jump this morning on photos for the 6th.  Two things are at play:  1) I'm horribly rusty since I let my photography habit slide this year, and 2) I miss having a small camera I can easily tuck into a pocket or purse.  I'm very grateful to my brother's family for gifting me with a camera early this year on my birthday, but it's not one I can easily carry around.  I become much more of a shutterbug when I have a smaller camera.  And I think I just might treat myself to one.  I spend so little on myself.  I rarely buy clothes or jewelry.  Only seldom buy anything for the house.  I get my hair done maybe 3 times a year and don't frequent spas.  All I want in life is good coffee, the occasional book (I buy most of mine--like the one above--at the thrift store for less than a dollar and turn around and donate them back to the store by the bagful) and a camera to easily document my life.  Well, okay, and internet service and blogging platforms and a Flickr pro account.  But, truly, that's not too much to ask for, right?  ;)

I read every night before falling asleep.  I cherish my reading time.  If I read at no other time throughout the day, I at least read at bedtime.  And it doesn't matter if it's a couple of paragraphs or 20 pages, I love the ritual of those moments of escape before heading off to dreamland.  I've been nibbling away at this book the past couple of months.  Like probably most of you, I have lots of books on my bedside table and what I pick up to read depends on my mood.  So it can sometimes take me months to finish a book.

One of the things I missed about posting here at Vox was that it's an easy way to catalog the books I've read and films I've seen/watched.  Might start posting to my library here again.

I used a sick leave day today (Wednesday), as I did on Monday.  I've had horrible allergies for several days now (the trees are blooming) and in addition to all of the typical allergy symptoms, my ears are also plugged up.  (Cue the ear candles...)

I'm also feeling teary...and confused...and sad...and...  I don't know.  We learned on Tuesday that our school board is now seriously considering closing my school.  If that happens, I don't know if it would happen before Fall 2009.  Then again, we don't know what's going to happen at this point.  There was a long board meeting on Monday night and the newspaper account made it sound like they put pretty much everything on the table in terms of options.  There's another board meeting on Thursday night, and given that one of the main thrusts of that article was closing our school, I expect there'll be a big turnout from parents at the next meeting. 

The first thought I had upon waking this morning was that I'd gladly surrender my job if my salary could be put toward saving a music or art or language or science class...or toward a librarian's salary.  After all, pretty much anyone could be trained to do what I'm paid to do.  All the value-added stuff--all the stuff that makes me valuable to my school--I basically donate because it falls outside my job description.  Those kinds of thoughts lead to other thoughts. What do I really want to do anyway?  Because it's not about any particular job.  I've had a zillion of them.  And that's all they are to me--jobs.  They're work I perform at others' beck and call in return for a steady paycheck. 

It's not like I haven't been asking myself that question for decades.  Although, to be honest, I probably came to that question much later than most of you, because in childhood, adolescence and even into my 20's, I thought only other people got to do what they wanted to do.  It took me awhile to fully grasp that no matter what messages were handed down--and what messages were fully absorbed by a younger version of yourself--the possibilities are endless. 

So I'm spending this sniffly day reading this book.


Thank you so very much for your sweet comments on my cruise post.  As someone said yesterday when I informed my coworkers that I'd be missing one extra day of work because of the cruise:  the winds of change are blowing...and there's no better place for pondering those changes than the open water...

Saturday afternoon I sat down at the kitchen table...tuned into the classical station (which was playing some wonderful Argentinian music)...grabbed a recent issue of Shambala Sun (which I knew contained images that would call to me in making this)...a big glue stick...a big mug of Royal Vitality tea...and sat down to make a God box.  I used to collage quite a bit when I was in my early-to-mid 20's.  But when I sat down to make this God box, I let go of any ideas about having it look 'perfect.'  I didn't care if the edges showed or if the glue made the paper pucker or any of it.  (And these photos emphasize its flaws--it looks a little prettier in person.)  :)  First I needed a box.  I decided to use the small box that Jen Lemen's Joy-Full Girl candle arrived in.  Appropriate, right?  :)  (And the nature of the box I chose would make it look less than perfect.  I was too lazy to remove the packing tape already on the box and too lazy to walk out to the garage to get packing tape to seal it, choosing instead to use the flimsier Scotch tape.  But this God box for me was much more about intent and much less about outward appearance.)  I know that one side looks like the image is upside down, but when the box is resting on its side, she looks at repose.  I like the idea of different angles which for me serves as a reminder that it's always good to expand my perception outside of the comfort zone right in front of me.  And I liked the idea of resting one image in the Buddha's hand.  That offering gesture serves to remind me to 'let go and let God' (as I define it)--to offer up my experience in gratitude rather than trying to analyze or over-dramatize it.  Sorry for the blurriness of the upper right photo.  I don't know if you can make it out, but in the center of what is the bottom of the box (when it's lying down) is an image of an old monk holding two oranges in front of his eyes.  That's a photo advertising the film Zen Noir.  I put it on the 'bottom' of the box because underlying everything in life for me is humor.  Life gets very dull when I push humor aside.  Plus I just liked the visual reminder that often we might as well be trying to look through oranges considering how 'dirty' our perception glasses can become.  We're trying to view the world through all of our baggage and sometimes it makes us very dense.  Speaking for myself anyway...  ;)  On the side that has lots of white space with only the words "Choosing Peace"...well, it really is that simple, isn't it?  In any given moment, we can either choose the peaceful re-action...or choose from a smorgasbord of other emotions.  The end with the photo of the moon in that blue, blue sky called to me because that's one of my favorite hues (hence my love of Caribbean blue) and the simplicity of the image reminds me that life is really very simple--it is *I* who complicate it.  The other end has the quote from SARK'S book that I referenced in the previous post--a great daily reminder. 

Can you see the hole?  The place where I plan to slip my dreams, wishes, desires, 'problems'?  The old me (when I was younger) would have carefully cut around the paper to match the hole I'd cut in the box.  This me just punched it through with the scissors and pushed the paper back with my fingers.  Look to the left of the Buddha's mouth...  As for the word "enlighten"...for me it doesn't just mean to become more aware...it means to literally lighten my load.  After all, that's what a God box is for, right?  ;) 

And that's the story of my God box.  If any of you have made, or plan to make, a God box, I'd love to see it.

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Just a reminder that I am posting a daily self-portrait photo to Flickr, as promised.  They're hardly scintillating, but my Flickr 366 Days set is here.
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Making the God box was strangely energizing.  When I'd finished it, I decided to tackle the two very large stacks of papers that I'd been piling atop the antique radio and little vintage TV you see in the background of the photos.  (I'd removed the papers before taking these shots.)  Yay to sorting and organizing!

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Today (January 6th) is my last day of Winter break.  Truthfully, I think I'm in a bit of denial that I have to return to my job tomorrow.  :)  My 'vacation' didn't remotely pan out to be what I had hoped.  I can either choose to accept that, or spend the next few weeks bitching about it.  I'm going to make a conscious decision in this moment to choose the former.  :)  Moving on...

This morning I flipped open Creative Visualization (one of my all-time favorite books from decades ago) and saw this listed as one of the things that helps Shakti in her creative visualization process:

"Having a friend or (ideally) a community of friends who are also tuned into learning to live more consciously and who will support you and help you in your efforts."

Little did Shakti know when she wrote that book in 1978 that she was foreseeing the blogosphere.  ;)

Her last chapter heading is "Your Life Is Your Work of Art."  Thanks go to all of you for sharing your art with me.  xoxo

For my Sacred Life Sunday exercise today, I'm going to spend some time in quiet reflection and write some things to put into my God box.

We were among the lucky ones.  Our power went out only very briefly around 9 am Friday morning.  Our cable service was not as lucky, however.  Our cable and broadband went out at 5 pm Friday and was just restored around 9 am Saturday.  It appears there was some sort of outage, but after service had been restored in the area, ours still hadn't.  There was a technician scheduled to visit us by 10 am on Saturday, but they were able to restore it for us over the phone.  It was sunny for most of Saturday morning, but as I write this around 11 am on Saturday, the rain has returned.  The winds, thank god, have not.  That bottom left photo is the storm debris I raked from our front lawn.

Friday was a good day to curl up in bed with big mugs of tea and plenty of books.  For my main Creative Every Day activity on Friday, I re-read SARK'S Transformation Soup.  What a wonderful book!  I used to be ashamed to admit this--thinking it somehow implied a lack of intelligence.  But I know I'm a very smart person, so here goes:  I have never had very good retention skills.  I've read my fair share of books, but I'm just not wired to remember loads of stuff about them once I've finished them.  There are some key, touchstone things I recall from certain books, but by and large I don't retain much.  This makes for very pleasurable re-reading--it can be like reading a book for the first time all over again!

Case in point:  I'd completely forgotten that one of the earliest chapter headings in this book is:  "My mother is no longer the problem.  Now what?"  Wha...WHAT?!  With my mother having just visited my brother and me over a two-week period, it was very timely.  ;) 

There are so many wonderful things in this book, I couldn't possibly begin to remember all of the ones that really jumped out at me.  I smiled when I read one of SARK'S "I wonder..." pages and saw: "...what the introverts' restaurant would look like."  An introverts' cafe!  Wouldn't that be fabulous?!  It's not that I'm averse to being around people--it's just that I don't want to have to be fully engaged with them every moment.  :)  Example:  I love to dine alone in restaurants.  I've done that since I was a teenager.  I get to be around other humans, but can enjoy my meal to my own rhythm.  It's the same reason I prefer to see films alone.  I wonder...what would an introverts' cafe look like?  If I were to create one, I think it would have lots of small seating areas with love seats and overstuffed armchairs and bean bags around small tables.  There'd be art-making supplies in each area.  Maybe a bulletin board or white board or easel (or all three).  There'd be cool, funky, handmade chandeliers over each seating area--with handmade art dangling from them.  Fabulous large, bright paintings gracing the walls--which would, of course, be painted several different colors.  The furniture would all be delightfully mismatched and there'd have to be some faux leopard in there somewhere.  Plenty of world music and jazz would play softly over the P.A.  Tea would be served in tea cups and on trays.  I'd put fabric walls around each seating area, so the introverts (me!) would be able to enjoy the hum of others while still feeling self-contained. It would be a little cafe full of introvert creativity pods!  ;)

On page 83, SARK talks about making a God box, an idea she got from Anne Lamott (and most of you know I love Annie.)  That's going to be my next CED activity--to make a God box.  You know I'm not a religious person, so when I say "God" I really mean my own version of God--that divine spark, our higher self, the universe, etc. all rolled into one.  I really, really loved re-reading how a friend of SARK's saw this note taped to a restaurant wall:

Good morning
This is God
I will be handling
all your problems
today
I will not need
your help
So have a good time
I love you

Sometimes when I think I'm helping myself, I'm really not.  I think I'll let the God box do some of the work for me.

I also finished this book during my laid-up-with-a-cold spell, having put it down for a couple of weeks halfway through.  I'm not even sure why I finished it.  It was a thrift-store find (as are most of my books).  It had raves on the back cover from Richard Russo and Andres Dubus, III, but I just didn't like the protagonist.  I can become enamored of fictional characters who do even heinous things, but I just didn't like the woman whose story Monica Wood was telling here.

Saturday night we watched this via Netflix.  Very cute, and better than I thought it would be based on the reviews I'd read.  I'd recommend it.  Jeffrey even enjoyed it.  (I'd feared it might be too much of a chick flick for him.)









I forgot to mention that I went to a special screening of the documentary The Business of Being Born on Saturday morning at my neighborhood indie theatre.  The information contained in it was nothing that I didn't already know or suspect, but I would encourage anyone to see it if they're wondering why the rate of C-sections in the U.S. has skyrocketed and yet we still have one of the highest infant mortality rates in the developed world.  (And I'm probably a little biased toward home births--Jeffrey's son was born at home 17 years ago.)  Click that link to the site to watch the trailer.

Shawnte at Hacktone Records hipped me to Sterling Harrison today.  WOW! 

Look, here's the deal...  Nearly 30 years ago, I met a guy when I was living in tiny Blue Lake, California.  He was a helluva singer (and also a very good harmonica player).  He told me there were these two guys from Saturday Night Live (Belushi and Aykroyd) in a recording studio making an album, and they were gonna be the Blues Brothers.  He said Belushi would call him from the studio to play tracks for him to see what he thought.  Everything he told me back then--how he'd met Belushi, how he'd turned Belushi onto all kinds of soulful music--it was all true.  Belushi and Aykroyd dedicated Briefcase Full of Blues to Curtis Salgado, and the title of "the original Blues Brother" has haunted him ever since (and I mean that in a good way...sort of).  Curtis turned me onto SO MANY great soul singers.   Artists like O.V. Wright and Howard Tate and Johnny Taylor and Otis Clay and Syl Johnson...and I could go on and on.  Here's why I'm telling you this:  Sterling Harrison is ONE OF THOSE GUYS.  But here's the heartbreaker--he died two years ago...without ever achieving any real success.  You think the music business is glamorous?  There are so many people who slave away night after night after night playing tiny joints for very little money.  People with BIG talent.  We can only hope that those people have left behind some recordings for us to enjoy.  Sterling's new (last) one is a gem.  So click on over to his MySpace page or the Hacktone site or Amazon and check it out.  (It's also available on iTunes and there's a link to that on the MySpace profile.)  If you like soul music, this is the shit.  If you like it, buy it.  That's how you support good music. 

Think I'm kidding about what a great a singer this guy was?  Check it out...

SIDEBAR:  I'll always have a soft spot for Curtis.  Besides being one of my oldest friends, I live with the guy who was his drummer for seven years.  If I hadn't met Curtis in '78, I wouldn't have hooked up with Jeffrey in '95...and I'm so glad I did.  ;)  They played together last month in San Diego, and J said Curtis sang his ass off.  See, true soul music never dies...

Jeffrey was doing some writing yesterday afternoon.  Not always an easy process for him, because he's not a good typist (he hunts and pecks).  So he was writing longhand on a legal pad, but then (this is familiar) grew frustrated that he couldn't write fast enough to keep up with his thoughts.  We'd already had a glorious day and it was still only mid-afternoon.  I suggested he take a break and offered the thrift store as a diversion.  (We both love thrifting.)  As we pulled up in front of the store and saw the scarcity of parking spaces, I said, "Everyone's probably looking for a Halloween costume..."  To which he added, "And books are on sale for 10 cents."  "WHAT?!"  (I'd missed the sign.)  If there is a heaven (which I don't believe in, but, what the hell, maybe...) it will contain a thrift store where you can buy all the books you want for 10 cents apiece.

I bought 45.  You can probably guess what I'll be doing in November.  I panicked when we got home and it occurred to me I'd have to find a place for them.  Our bookcases in the living room are mainly filled with CD's, DVD's, videos, stuff that J sells on eBay, his awards and miscellaneous stuff.  So our books are stored in two small bookcases and one tiny one in the kitchen (another reason I love our kitchen so much--it's really my kitchen/library) and a small wooden vintage bookcase I bought for $5 that sits in a corner of the living room.  Jeffrey also has a cool vintage nightstand that we picked up at an antique store in Woodland that has a small cabinet.  I've taken to stuffing some of his books in there.  (He's not much of a reader, so he doesn't mind.) 

Here's the thing though:  I'm not a book keeper. (Although I have, a couple of times in my life, had to slog through hideous jobs as a bookkeeper.  Shudder.)  I go through this collecting/getting rid of thing in every place I live.  And if/when we move from here, I'll get rid of most of these.  I mean, hell, at 10 cents a pop, who cares if I keep them for a day?  I bought 45 books for the price of a large latte.  And honestly, what the hell can you buy for 10 cents anymore?  Anyone?

I knew when I was still in the thrift store that I'd start reading this one as soon as I got home.  It's got me written all over it--essays with blurbs on the dust jacket raving about how funny she is.  Funny essays?  I could make a happy life reading nothing else.  Kaplan's a good writer and she's very witty.  I chortled a few times, but this wasn't Sedaris or Bryson territory for me.  But then, who is?  Her essays struck just the right balance of wit and pathos for me, and the collection works nicely.  Here's an interview with Kaplan that appeared online at Salt a couple of years ago.

Oh yeah, and J bought this rug for $9.50.  And a couple of old-school cassettes, including a classic one by Jeff Lorber.  Probably from the days when Jeff Lorber and Kenny Gorelick (otherwise known as Kenny G) were just another couple of fellow Northwest musicians to him.

Now that my tears have subsided, I'll simply say:  I loved this book.  What a unique and gripping story--at least for me.  I picked up the hardcover at the thrift store.  I'd read about it when it was first published, but often I stay away from books that everyone is reading while they're reading them...and come to them later.  I tried not to be put off by the "Today Book Club" sticker on the dust jacket.  ;)  It made me think about love and the illusion of time and fate and destiny and...well, love.  Mostly love.  Can't wait for the movie...surely someone's optioned it for a film.

~~  I just checked and, sure enough, it's in production!  And starring Rachel McAdams no less (for all you "The Notebook" fans out there.)  :)  ~~

No time to blog this morning.  Have been up for three hours already devouring a big chunk of this.  Nearly finished.  I'd read about it when it was published, as did most of you, I imagine, but didn't feel compelled to read it since I don't cook and really have no interest in cooking...or even reading about cooking.  But I'm quite enjoying it.  And it seems oddly serendipitous that I'd just spent the past few days thinking about the ubiquitous "101 in 1,000" meme that floats around the blogosphere (chortling to myself that I fear commitment so deeply that I can't even commit to making a list).  I'd grabbed this book off a Borders sale shelf on a whim a couple of weeks ago.  Reading Julie's chronicles of her "project" which apparently gave meaning to her then unfulfilled life and ended up blazing the trail for a new one has me thinking about that damned "101 in 1,001" thing again.  Last night I had dinner with a new friend and her beautiful 8th grade daughter (who attends our school).  They moved here from Illinois over the summer, and although mom and I had met for coffee once before, we talked like crazy last night.  For nearly three hours it turns out, which explains why daughter was beginning to fade.  As I said to the daughter as we began to crawl out of the booth at the restaurant, she must be thinking, "Wrap it up, old ladies!"  New friend is a firecracker--very smart, similarly aligned in her beliefs and views of the world as me, and chomping at the bit to get out of the house.  The life of a housewife does not suit her, it seems.  At the end of the month she'll be returning to teaching--two college classes for an 8-week term.  But at one point last night she said, "We should DO something.  We need to start a business.  We need to DO something."  Although, to be frank, I'm not sure this liberal but provincial university town would be ready for the likes of us.  ;)

Busy day today.  Picking Carolyn up at the Goodyear place this morning where she's dropping off her car.  Then we'll be swinging by the store for ice cream to go with the pies I picked up after work yesterday at Bakers Square.  Our male counselor (our token male in the office--poor guy, surrounded by all those menopausal and perimenopausal women) turns 30 today.  Before I left yesterday I got on the computer and made little squares comprised of an old bald guy slumped over with a cane and "30" next to him.  I cut a dozen of them and taped and pinned them all over his office.  After the kids go back to class after lunch--when we sit down to have ours in the office--we'll have a pie party.  (Pie, rather than cake, at his request.)  Faculty heads off to a staff meeting after final bell, and I'm meeting a teacher friend for dinner after that.

But that "project" thing is still rattling around in the back of my head.  It's making me want to dig around in my files for that list of "101 ideas" I typed up (on a typewriter!) about 12 or 13 years ago.  Ideas are never the problem--I've had a boatload of them--it's that whole commitment thing.

(Hmmm...guess I had time to blog after all.)  :)