Friday, April 01, 2011
No fooling
Wow, a blizzard is raging here in Maine this morning. Just yesterday I was beginning to become accustomed to the sight of bare ground once again. We had snow lingering only on the shady side of the street and the crocuses were all in bloom. I don't know if this will do them in or not, I suppose tomorrow will tell. Apologies for the lack of writing lately - as spring lurches along here I have been less inclined to spend time in front of small glowing screens of any kind. I've been out painting a handful of times, also out surveying the bare garden and drawing maps in my head of where new vegetable beds could go. And out walking, out book-hunting, all in all simply OUT. With some impatience and much great joy. What a long winter it was, to be sure.
Noteworthy from the past few weeks, in no particular order (though first is best):
Celebrated 19 years with Ryan. His anniversary gift to me: The Letters of Samuel Johnson, edited by Bruce Redford, complete five-volume set, fine in fine dust jackets (Princeton University Press 1994; the Hyde Edition; lovely presswork from Stinehour). He knows what I like! Read on!
Chuckled over The Future of Books at McSweeney's. Laughing aside, they also provide some welcome information about what's happening to reading and literacy and publishing, in their series Good News from the World of Books.
Delivered one of my paintings to the Portland Museum of Art for their upcoming biennial, which opens next week. Commenced fretting about what to wear to the opening. It's been a while since I've had to wear something other than what I usually schlep around in. You know, clothes with tiny flecks of paint on them - fraying comfortable clothes - old bookshop clothes.
Contemplated Maria Shriver's interview with poet Mary Oliver in the O Magazine online edition. Going to see and hear Mary Oliver read from her work several years ago remains a literary highlight in my life. Actually, forget literary, the experience remains a highlight, full stop. The reading took place a year after her life companion had died and it was obvious that the loss was raw and painful. Good to read this interview and see what's happened in her life since then.
I'll leave it at that for now - the power is flickering and I keep getting disconnected. As the storm rages on, I'm going to go curl up and connect with a book instead.
Noteworthy from the past few weeks, in no particular order (though first is best):
Celebrated 19 years with Ryan. His anniversary gift to me: The Letters of Samuel Johnson, edited by Bruce Redford, complete five-volume set, fine in fine dust jackets (Princeton University Press 1994; the Hyde Edition; lovely presswork from Stinehour). He knows what I like! Read on!
Chuckled over The Future of Books at McSweeney's. Laughing aside, they also provide some welcome information about what's happening to reading and literacy and publishing, in their series Good News from the World of Books.
Delivered one of my paintings to the Portland Museum of Art for their upcoming biennial, which opens next week. Commenced fretting about what to wear to the opening. It's been a while since I've had to wear something other than what I usually schlep around in. You know, clothes with tiny flecks of paint on them - fraying comfortable clothes - old bookshop clothes.
Contemplated Maria Shriver's interview with poet Mary Oliver in the O Magazine online edition. Going to see and hear Mary Oliver read from her work several years ago remains a literary highlight in my life. Actually, forget literary, the experience remains a highlight, full stop. The reading took place a year after her life companion had died and it was obvious that the loss was raw and painful. Good to read this interview and see what's happened in her life since then.
I'll leave it at that for now - the power is flickering and I keep getting disconnected. As the storm rages on, I'm going to go curl up and connect with a book instead.
