Friday, February 19, 2010
Enchanted elsewheres
Okay, so enough with the magical thinking already. It seems I wished spring here too strongly - snow has been in the forecast for days now, but we received less than a trace. The ground is thawing in the garden. The temperatures have been unseasonably warm. People in the neighborhood are already talking about tapping maple trees. I see some mud out the window. It's all very unsettling. But listen to me - I fuss when it's too cold, and I fuss when it's not exactly warm, but not cold either.
I guess I'm just fussy in general because I've been housebound lately, what with Ryan working at his regular job, then also doing some freelancing in the evenings this week. Lots of time on my hands. I took the opportunity to stretch a big batch of canvases and wooden panels of various sizes. When I prime them, I add black acrylic paint to the white gesso, so it turns a nice warm gray. Now the gray canvases and panels are ranged around all the edges of two rooms as they dry, and I feel like I'm in the center of some kind of weird miniature Stonehenge. Which makes me think of places other than this.
The mail this week brought news from faraway lands. How wonderful it is to receive real mail from real people, about real things. A lovely little package came from Greece, including a travel guide I immediately sat right down and looked through, and a postcard arrived from Italy, wishing I was there. Me, too. Greece and Italy. This is usually the time of year I want to watch Shirley Valentine and Enchanted April in one night. Two of the best women-who-occasionally-pine-for-life-elsewhere films I know. Best watched alone, during a quiet late-winter evening, in middle age, while building cloud-castles overlooking the Mediterranean. This week, I meet that criteria. I have never seen the Mediterranean. I want to. I mean, I love Maine, but mid-February is not its finest hour. Did I mention the mud?
I guess I'm just fussy in general because I've been housebound lately, what with Ryan working at his regular job, then also doing some freelancing in the evenings this week. Lots of time on my hands. I took the opportunity to stretch a big batch of canvases and wooden panels of various sizes. When I prime them, I add black acrylic paint to the white gesso, so it turns a nice warm gray. Now the gray canvases and panels are ranged around all the edges of two rooms as they dry, and I feel like I'm in the center of some kind of weird miniature Stonehenge. Which makes me think of places other than this.
The mail this week brought news from faraway lands. How wonderful it is to receive real mail from real people, about real things. A lovely little package came from Greece, including a travel guide I immediately sat right down and looked through, and a postcard arrived from Italy, wishing I was there. Me, too. Greece and Italy. This is usually the time of year I want to watch Shirley Valentine and Enchanted April in one night. Two of the best women-who-occasionally-pine-for-life-elsewhere films I know. Best watched alone, during a quiet late-winter evening, in middle age, while building cloud-castles overlooking the Mediterranean. This week, I meet that criteria. I have never seen the Mediterranean. I want to. I mean, I love Maine, but mid-February is not its finest hour. Did I mention the mud?
