away far too long...

i have been away for far too long.
i'm not writing much these days,
aside from the weekly brit-lit-crit
and notes on noteworthy philosophers
and a word on religion and tradition
and heritage.

nothing for you and nothing,
really, for me.

we'll meet again--the pen, the paper, and you.
i hope i find you quietly awaiting my return,
as i quietly await your eyes,
as i quietly begin to stir.

dear reader(s),

i've started a new blog! it's about food and crafty things, much like this one is about art and writey things. check her out-- she's called comme dessert... and that means "for dessert..." in french (in case you were wondering).

i've really been thinking a lot about starting a food blog, so finally i've done it. she's not so pretty right now but i'm working on it. i may even visit ellie at rainy day templates for a pretty layout. but we shall see. in any case, i hope comme dessert... becomes a hugely big hit, but between you and me, i'm happy just to be doing it.

more to come, including the much awaited sonnet from my most recent 10 words assignment!

♥

ten words, attempted.

dust

dust is lust expired,

transplanted by a cold gust

from the fan of extinguished heat.

as sand turned to glass breaks,

so the glinting sharp shards cut.

soiled by rapacious fingertips,

tattered pages fuel eagerness

until the yellow blaze is blackened

and all that is lasting

turns to dust.

Ruby, Dorothea Lange, Sacramento 1937.

can a city gal grow carrots in a box?

this is the question i've been asking myself today. i can't even keep a couple of house plants alive and i'm mulling over the idea of starting a garden. i won't commit to a plot in a community garden because i'm too embarrassed that i'll still hate having dirty hands (an issue since childhood which has turned me into what my friends would call an "indoor girl") and won't tend to my plants and they'll all die and turn to weeds and yield nothing edible at all.

i'm convinced that so many of society's problems are caused by the fact that we (americans especially) do not do anything anymore. we buy pre-made everything and sit in front of computers all day and blog, twitter, facebook, blackberry, im ourselves through reality without ever exerting a drop of energy toward creating the things we need to survive. i attributed recent occurrences of workplace violence and kidnapping to the fact that no one farms anymore in a conversation with co-workers about the crumbling of civilized society. i really believe that. humans are animals and fundamentally, don't we have the instinctual desire to exert physical energy? is it safe to assume that the relationship between actively creating and stress relief exists? i could go on and on about this for pages and pages but you'd get bored and i already know you get what i'm saying. i mean for goodness sake, people don't even walk anywhere anymore-- they buy smart cars to save gas on "around town errands". 3 words: ride a bike. so there.

back to gardening. i'm afraid i'm going to get bored with it and let everything die. i'm afraid i'm going to hate getting dirty and i'll freak out at the bugs (especially caterpillars--eww). but why is any of that stopping me? i've been looking for a new creative outlet, something that's just mine and that will provide me with some much needed alone time. i have a wonderful place to plant a garden at my grandparent's place and i really think i should put my money where my mouth is and start contributing to things that i believe in-- like sustainability and self-sufficiency.

i think i'm going to try to make a "square foot garden" which seems wonderful because there's no digging or roto-tiller rental involved-- i can't be trusted with machinery of any sort. perhaps small at first, with some herbs and peppers and tomatoes (for color and for michael, not for me). maybe i'll throw in some flowers just because they're pretty and i always love having fresh blooms in the house.

i really want to be good at this and stick to it. i want to know that i've created something that nourishes my body and soul and perks up the earth just a little bit. cross your green thumbs for a healthy harvest-- i need all the help i can get.

It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought. ~James Douglas, Down Shoe Lane

when i wrote this i was thinking there must be a time when a day and a lifetime are interchangeable. that is, life gets to a point that in one rising and setting it can parallel the rising and setting of an entire life. this is what that day looks like to me...

feet hooked over the foot of the bed
and knees like kissing flamingo legs
an ear in the crook of red wine and
spanish dancers

grapefruit spoons and roots
of a tree on notebook paper
fill blanks on unfinished
lists like
ruby raindrops
crushed
between lip and steel

a hand on weight meant for motherhood
made of afternoon naps and
warm milk silence
makes promises through translucent skin
like an owls wings on snow

french flea market wallpaper lit by
the barbizon muse and terracotta
dinners on mismatched plates
with little fingers wrapped around
a sturdy, callused thumb

behind falling night and candle dimmed
windows sigh green eyes
the lines etched near mouths and brows
count the time in grey

"...that while we breathe, we hope..."

last night i experienced what i think might be the single most defining and monumental social and political event in recent history, most certainly that of my young life. the election of barack obama to the presidency of the united states marks a beautiful point in our nation's short, but turbulent history. it is time. time for us, as a nation, to catch up with the rest of the civilized world and see past race, sex, wealth, sexual orientation, disability, and politics, and to embrace one another as friends and as equals. we did that yesterday. as a whole- as a single, free, hopeful nation, we came together. it was beautiful.

today, it's more beautiful. tomorrow, more beautiful than today.

there is clarity and anticipation and desire within me. i feel it radiating from my core and it's burst out from my heart and stomach and that place that hurts when you're in love- that magical place that's neither organ nor thought. this feels better than love and here's why:

for the first time i see absolute joy in the faces of my friends. unbridled, self-less, wholesome, consuming, completely innocent and pure, joy. it's so unselfish. i cannot describe what happened last night, but i know something changed in the fabric of our lives. i'm happy for everyone, even people who are saddened today, because we, the people, were the catalyst for change and barack obama- a single, solitary man- moved and guided us towards that.

i wore a sticker yesterday that said, "my vote counted!"- i truely feel that it did. knowing that i've been apart of this will surely stay with me forever. as i sat last night in the theater at real art ways, surrounded by old friends and new ones, i listened to words of hope from the man that led us to make history. i cried tears of honesty, dedication, and months of finger-crossing. we're making a difference in this world and it feels so good.

what a great day to be an american. what a great life we're all sharing. cheers to obama and here's to our future.


liberty leading the people, delacroix

on the reality of vanity or not seeing.

i went to another wedding last saturday. anna (the bride) was glowing, kathryn and all the bridesmaids were beautiful. each of the gents, including tyler (the groom) were handsome as ever. it was a gorgeous fall day- the perfect day for my two outdoorsy, woodsy friends to unite. it was windy and cool but the sun was bright and cut the chill (so did the champagne). the whole day was fabulous and memorable and i am so very blessed to have shared in my good friends' happiness.

kathryn posted all of the pictures that we took while getting ready and during the ceremony in her facebook albums. mostly i was the one taking the pictures so i didn't make too much of an appearance. i did, however, find myself tagged in a couple that anna's sister took of us doing shots of whiskey before the ceremony. here's the deal with those pictures:

i've gotten fat.

no no- i know you folks- the one or two that read this little blog of mine. i know you're rolling your eyes and saying, "oh my god, lydia, you are NOT fat." hear me right now, right this second. i'm not listening to you. i can't- and here's why: i don't recognize the girl in those pictures. it looks like someone swallowed me. when i got dressed that morning- in my favorite dress, mind you- i did not see that person looking back at me in the mirror. i saw me and i looked pretty and happy. pictures are the only glimpse at reality, i guess. in those snapshots i saw kathryn and anna and heather and allie looking great- just as they look when they're standing next to me. i don't know when i stopped seeing myself or when that image became distorted.

i know no one will agree with me on this but that's not really my concern. if you're not happy with what you see then what does it matter what anyone else says? clearly there are limits to that, points when it gets obsurd. i'm not at that point but i am at a place when i feel it's finally necessary to do something- to fix myself up a bit so that the gal i see in the mirror is the same gal you see and the same gal in those photos. i don't want to be the chubby friend.

i hate being so vain. i can't help it this time. maybe it's helpful sometimes to become absorbed in oneself. to cleanse, clear, revamp under the scrutiny of the never satisfied eye.

Triptych of Earthly Vanity and Divine Salvation, Hans Memling (c.1485)