Genius mix on my brand spankin' new iPod (thanks mom and dad, for having me in the first place, then for giving me such generous gifts). I let the highlight hover over the song "Starry Gazey Pie" by the Bees (a.k.a. The Silver Seas), held the button down until "Genius" popped up, then was given the gift of a knowing mix including Genesis' "Follow You Follow Me," Bruce Springsteen's "I'm On Fire" as well as "Streets of Philadelphia," all the songs I forget I own come up in such a fine string. Now I am listening to Genius based on the Foo Fighters' "Walking After You" so now I'm looking forward to Beck, Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Flaming Lips, REM.....How does it know?! I know I'm late to the Genius party but I'm here now, and this is staggeringly great.
Really digging lately:
Art lessons with Anna. My friend wrote me at the start of the year and asked if I'd ever be interested in giving her drawing lessons. Not that she needs them, mind you. She's already got a solid set of skills, a firm grasp on the virtues of contrast and perspective, a body of knowledge that makes me wonder what I have to teach her. We sit at my kitchen table for two hours every other Tuesday in the flicker of candlelight, we sip wine or tea, listen to good music, talk through life's issues, laugh, sit in silence for a while, then pick back up on other topics, all the while covered in graphite and eraser dust. The fact that she writes me a check when eight o' clock rolls around still feels funny, but she insists. (these are my two drawings, one of Jamie Oliver picking garlic and one of a vintage Dr. Pepper bottle. I'll ask the student at our next lesson if I might be allowed to feature her work here too.)
A scarf given to me by my lovely Reba two (or three?) years ago for my birthday. I love it when I remember articles of clothing I forgot I had. It was tucked away behind summer dresses and rain jackets in the hall closet. I remembered it in the first place because of the indigo blue tights I have on with my Wellies today. It's fun to match sometimes. But I distinctly remember, back in Junior High when I was becoming the dashing pinnacle of style I am today, mom saying in her gentle way, "does everything always have to match perfectly?..." That might be one of the best notes on style I ever received. And yet, today, I match. It's a process, folks, a process.
Dare I say it? Snow. We've got more on the way, it appears. I'm so ready for spring I may cry. Not that I'd mind a little day off, free from watercolored dragons and puppets needing their sticks and markers that are running out of juice.....
Reading at night:
(re-reading, really) Garrison Keillor's compilation Good Poems. It does not get old.
Here's one that suits today (and of which I have a special understanding, given my morning battles with a temperamental old pick-up) :
by Baron Wormser