friday felicitations #41

the week's end inspires musings on the slipperiness of time

Happy Friday!

This week flew past so quickly. Actually, this month flew past so quickly!

I've been having that feeling lately, the one that strikes me periodically, that I need to pay attention, to try to grasp and pin down memories of events and activities so that when looking back, I'll know what I did with my days. This is the impulse that drives me to keep, with sporadic faithfulness (there's an oxymoron!), a five-year diary and an electronic journal (I love this application) and a reading log.

This week I came across Austin Kleon's idea of keeping a logbook. Click the link for photos of his, which includes great little sketches. The basic idea is to keep a brief record of each day's events - as he puts it, "a simple list of who/what/where" without pre-judgments about what is significant. He observes that even what seem like mundane events at the time sometimes emerge to have greater importance than anticipated, or at least give him a sense of how he spent the day.

I'm intrigued and have decided to try it out. I already have a page-a-day calendar that I haven't been using, so it'll be a no-cost experiment. I'm wondering if jotting short notes as I go will prove easier to keep up with than trying to write even a few sentences once a day in a traditional journal. We'll see. I'll let you know if it works.

I discovered Austin's work, by the way, through this fantastic post when it was tweeted by Molly of Orangette.  It's based on a talk he gave to college students and is the best collection of insights I've read in ages about how to do creative work and really, how to live. You should read it even if you don't think of yourself as an artist.


(photo by Ninth Wave Designs, on Flickr; I use those pens, too!)

spring!

maisie certainly did

Temperatures reached nearly 80 degrees here today, and I pushed the kitchen window wide open for the first time in months. Maisie watched, her expression astonished and then ecstatic. She promptly leapt onto the windowsill, let the warm breeze ruffle her fur, and lolled with abandon. I love how easy it is to make a cat happy.

Speaking of happiness, I was delighted to hear that Grace's new little one, Nina Charlotte, came into the world today. See her sweet newborn photo (complete with obligatory striped hospital blanket) and vital stats here.

jasper blue

sachi, here's what you really got me for my birthday

For a while now, I've been using a simple, zippered pouch as a wallet. After digging through it yet again to find something (on this particular occasion, a train ticket), I decided it was time for something more structured - a proper wallet.

But I didn't want anything too big, just something large enough to hold my most frequently used cards, a bit of cash, and a few coins. After some searching, I found just what I wanted.

It has pockets sufficient for organizing and readily locating its contents, yet not so many as to be bulky. It includes a zippered section for coins. It has a sweet little pyramid-shaped closure that turns with a satisfying snick.

What really got me, beyond the wallet's practical features, was the color, a hue called "jasper blue." As you might be able to tell from this very blog, I'm kinda crazy about this color. Now I know what it's called. And I get to savor it every time I pull out my wallet.

The wallet is by Kate Spade, which I'm kind of embarrassed to admit. I love most of her stuff (some of the more flamboyant designs are too much for my sedate tastes), but it's generally way beyond my price range. However, I discovered the wallet was being offered by Endless.com at a substantial discount and that Endless - which is a storefront for Amazon - accepts Amazon gift cards. Sachi had given me an Amazon gift card for my birthday with the plan that I'd use it to buy books. I decided she wouldn't mind if I used it to purchase a wallet in jasper blue instead.*

Thank you, Sachi! I love it.


*Far more frequently, this happens the other way around: I plan to buy something else and end up buying books . . . .

weekend notes #42

jane eyre

It was a lovely weekend, a three-day one thanks to that marvelous local holiday, Patriots' Day. I attended a ballet class with a new teacher, went to brunch and the ballet, got some things done at home.

My favorite part of the weekend by far was finally seeing Jane Eyre. I've been eagerly awaiting the movie ever since reading this review. I wasn't disappointed; I loved it.

Mia Wasikowska made a wonderful Jane, conveying the character's quiet intensity and steadfast integrity.

Michael Fassbender was perfect as the brooding, tormented, passionate Rochester. (He was rather more handsome than I imagine the not-handsome Rochester, but reader, I did not object.)

Judi Dench was a pleasure to watch as Mrs. Fairfax (she brings such richness to any role she plays!), and a grown-up Jamie Bell was suitably severe as St. John.

I couldn't get enough of the costumes, the scenery, the beautiful score - all of the aspects of period movies that I adore and were so well done in this film.

Most important of all, of course, for any movie adaptation of a beloved novel was its fidelity to the spirit of the book. If you're one of those people who periodically rereads Jane Eyre to savor the singular dialogue and retrace the familiar but endlessly compelling storyline, you will love this version, too. I'll be watching for it on DVD because it's one I'd like to own and watch again and again.


(photos by Laurie Sparham for Focus Features: photo of Rochester from here, all others from here)

weekend notes #41

birthday edition

The weekend was a self-created four-day one because I took Thursday and Friday off. I was yearning for a mini-break, plus Thursday was my birthday. I can't remember the last time I took a day off on my birthday; it was great! I've resolved to try to do it every year. Being off when most of the world isn't feels so luxuriously decadent. Doing it on your birthday makes it feel like your very own holiday.

I greeted my birthday with mixed feelings this year. I turned 37, and I am not thrilled about being decidedly closer to 40 than 30. I've felt for ages like I'm about 32 or 33 on the inside, so for a long time, birthdays were fine because I felt like I was approaching my true age. But now my chronological age is surpassing my internal age, and that just seems wrong.

When I complained about this to my mom, she observed (as someone pointed out to her) that having another birthday is far preferable to the only other alternative. I cannot argue with that!

For all the birthday trepidation, I still had a great day. The highlight was dinner with Celeste at a new tapas place, Tres Gatos. It's a combination restaurant/bookstore/music store with a cozy neighborhood vibe. My favorite things all in one place, and the food was delicious . . . we agreed we'd go back for sure. (Apologies for the lack of pictures. All too often, excitement about food makes me completely forget about taking photos!)

Birthday gifts included a book from Celeste, a re-imagining of Alice in Wonderland. From my parents I received this bee-yoo-tiful food processor, after which I've been lusting for some time. I see pesto in my future.

april bliss

Bliss equals . . .

1. the scent of this perfume. (April 4)

2. new running shoes! (April 7)

3. weather warm enough for running in shorts. (April 11)

(gorgeous photo by jennifer squires ross, on Flickr)

back to bed

dorothy parker speaks some truth

Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom
Dorothy Parker

Daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
Though I dress and drink and eat,
Move my fingers and my feet,
Learn a little, here and there,
Weep and laugh and sweat and swear,
Hear a song, or watch a stage,
Leave some words upon a page,
Claim a foe, or hail a friend—
Bed awaits me at the end.

Though I go in pride and strength,
I’ll come back to bed at length.
Though I walk in blinded woe,
Back to bed I’m bound to go.
High my heart, or bowed my head,
All my days but lead to bed.
Up, and out, and on; and then
Ever back to bed again,
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall—
I’m a fool to rise at all!

Another poem about one's bed. Remember this one? I should start writing verses to my bed. They'd be love poems.


(From The Writer's Almanac.
Photo by Little Lentil Lil, on Flickr)

adele

playing in my head

As with most things in pop culture, I'm rather late to the party in discovering the music of Adele, but I'm so glad I finally arrived. I first heard her in this great interview. I've since purchased both of her albums, 19 and 21, and they are fabulous. She was born to sing these songs.

Good music can leaven even the most hectic days with a bit of joy. I combined the albums into one playlist and have been running it on a continuous loop during the past several days. I've reached the point where the tracks are so familiar that I can concentrate on work while listening but still experience, on some nearly subconscious level, little bursts of happiness at my favorite parts.



This song is my particular favorite. It's been playing in my head when I wake up in the morning, take a shower, walk to work.



Here's a less glam, charmingly stripped down version plus two other songs, part of NPR's Tiny Desk Concert series, about which I've enthused before. I love the messiness of the shelves in the background, and Adele seems similarly genuine and unassuming. And aren't her pianist and guitarist total cuties?

emerging

the blog comes back to life

The last grant application gets submitted today. The patients have been cared for, the phone consultations provided, the presentations delivered. Hallelujah!

It's not that I don't still have things to do. Just like everyone else, I always have things to do. But I think, finally, that the pace is going to be saner for at least a little while. I'm even planning to take a couple days off at the end of this week.

Each time I finish a very busy period, I have the same two reactions: Profound gratitude. And the conviction that I really must try to prevent such a frenzy from occurring again. I have this vision that if I could just be diligent, disciplined, efficient enough, I could maintain a pace of steady work instead of these crazy ups and downs.

Problem is, I'm finally realizing that the ups and downs are just part of life and only somewhat preventable. I am definitely guilty at times of perfectionist procrastination (or would that be procrastinating perfectionism?), but sometimes factors beyond one's control do take over. Like having four grant deadlines in the space of seven weeks.

Still, I think my response could be better. I'm too prone to letting all healthy routines go to pieces and to not making myself get enough sleep, with predictable decays in my concentration and productivity. Or I get overwhelmed as the perfectionism sets in and waste precious time dithering about what to do next and whether I'll get it all done. I believe building better habits during the calmer times would help with the hectic times. Something to contemplate because there's sure to be a next time.

It feels fitting that as I get back on an even keel, spring is slowly coming to Boston. Spring's arrival is always gradual here, with one step back for every two forward (we had an inch or two of snow last week!), but the days are getting warmer, and the daffodils and tulips are on the verge of blooming. I sense a collective feeling of hopeful expectation.


(snowy daffodil photo by Jessica Leas Photography, on Flickr)