let the boys/Bring flowers

"Let be be finale of seem. / The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream" (Wallace Stevens, "The Emperor of Ice-Cream").

Which is to say, what is, is. What's past is past. The living go on living--calling, whipping, dawdling, wearing, bringing flowers--and the "horny feet" of the dead "protrude.../To show how cold [they are], and dumb". The glory of living is in the living of it. It's a chilling and exciting poem.

'It was not an adventure; it was my life'

When one door of happiness closes, another one opens; but so often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened to us. (Helen Keller)

Those are windows of the studio where I took ballet classes when I was little. (I recall the first time I went in I was sure the teacher was a witch and sat out most of the lesson huddled by the piano.)

As usual, working on keeping in mind that the moment now is an important one. I don't like the voice that says 'do everything!' but I don't want to regret not-having-done. An important balance. After so much moving around, so many places that have been just a bit short of 'home', I am ready to live how and where I want to. But I don't want to let my eagerness for my own place (on my own terms) to obscure what I have now (and may not have again). It must sound strange, because I know that my life can seem like an 'adventure' all the time--and I suppose in some ways it is. But it is also just my life: I get up, I go to work, I have good days and bad ones, I have happy and sad times, I do work or fall behind or get bored. None of that is to say I'm not aware that I'm lucky to travel, study, write, make art. But it's just my life, and realising that helps me keep perspective--and lets it be okay when I have a bad day or just want something different, whether that's living by myself or traveling or not traveling.

The title of this post is a quotation by the poet Yehuda Amichai.

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. (Emerson)

{this way}

{happy valentine's day to everyone, and especially to a certain english with whom i cannot go valentine's-adventuring in london this year, being so very far away....x}

unorthofox

An unorthodox fox--coined 'unorthofox' by Caroline--a present for Matt. Just a little unusual. Unexpected. Lopsided. In funny perspective. But sometimes the best things are like that.

(What is this?): a new favorite read. See the post from 8 Feb. for links to a couple of specific posts, but I've gone through most of her archives and read them as well and I can't tell you how many interesting, thoughtful, thought-provoking things I've found there.

Uppercase now has a magazine that looks pretty awesome, too.

harikuyo

Recently found, via (what is this?)--a weblog--posts about harikuyo (more information here, here, here), a Shinto festival honoring used, broken, and bent needles. Reading about it, what is emphasized is the way this ties into a more general way of seeing objects as imbued with value. (Almost proto-Marxist, actually--thinking about use value.) I like that. Although the skewed end of the scale--everything has value, so I'll save everything--is dangerous for me (chronic hoarder of small objects), the idea of objects having value is close to my heart. As I wrote recently, I want to have things that mean to me. In theory, I think this means having less and taking more care of it, in the choosing and in the keeping. I'm working on it, in practice--moving back and forth between continents has helped.

westward

It's bound to be cold.

But I will see my family, do my thesis work at the light-wood kitchen table (just like I did my homework for 16 years), write with L. and Z., walk around (but not for too long) in the snow, take the light rail, visit all the old haunts, take a couple of long train rides, read some poems out loud, maybe see Lykke Li at the Varsity, go thrift-shopping, find some books (and the green wool skirt I want to send to C.), listen to music, ride in cars on the right-hand side of the street, bemoan the woeful exchange rate, see my grandfather, go to a movie at the Riverview, revel in the used book stores, touch all the fabrics at Treadle, work on new drawings, and miss England.

And then it will be time to come back, and when I get here, I bet the daffodils will be blooming.

textures of light

I first came to Nottingham from France, starved for my own language (understood as I would understand it), for warmth in many ways, for company, in February 2007. I took the train from London, having spent the morning finding my way through the National Portrait Gallery to St Pancras Station.

I spent three weeks staying among Masters and PhD students in dumpy halls of residence. But the time didn't feel dismal; I was free to do as I liked with all of it, which meant I was free to do as much as I liked to make nice things for the people around me, and for myself. I took daily walks near the canal. I made cakes. And I noticed the light.

The light in England is so special--especially around this time of year, when things are just (just!) beginning to sprout. There are daffodil and tulip tips poking out of lawns. The trees' branches are studded in glaucous nubs. And though it rains in the morning, it is almost always clear by the afternoon. The light is very present, this time of year--and it has been dark so long.

Here is the recipe I made up for coconut cake. It is a suitably light cake, perfect for this time of year, even more than summer, I think, because of the way the coconut caramelizes inside as it bakes. It is rich and dense without being heavy.

February coconut cake

I find mixing this cake by hand is particularly nice, as I can really feel the change in the ingredients as I combine them.

Ingredients:

125g butter, softened but not liquid

100g sugar

2 eggs

2t vanilla extract

150g unsweetened dried coconut

100g flour

2t baking powder

pinch of salt, if desired

butter for caketin

coconut and coarse granulated sugar for on top

Heat the oven to 200 degrees C.

Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt together. Set aside.

In a separate bowl, cream the butter and sugar together. Add the eggs and vanilla; mix well, whipping by hand to aerate.

Add the coconut and mix until fully integrated, then slowly add the dry mixture, stirring as you do, until the batter stiffens. The batter should be fairly thick and sticky, but not a dough. If it is doughy, add a (very) few drops of milk or orange juice.

Pour and press into buttered caketin--this recipe makes a small cake; I use a 7" diameter springform pan for it.

Sprinkle coconut and coarse sugar on the top of the batter.

Bake at 200˚ until the top is lightly browned and the edges are firm (about 10 minutes), then turn oven down to 150˚ and bake for about 35 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Your oven may cook hotter than mine, in which case begin the baking on the higher heat and once the cake begins to rise and brown (lightly), turn down the temperature and continue baking until inserted knife is clean on withdrawal.

Eat warm and crumbly plain, or cool with whipped cream, or with bittersweet marmalade and a cup of Earl Grey tea.

thank you

for your custom

xx