If a black bear attacks, do not play dead

Who pooped in my raised bed? Who keeps digging in there, amongst the volunteer strawberry plants?*

"People are advised to play dead and lock their hands behind their neck...in the event of a grizzly bear attack. If a black bear attacks, do not play dead." —Amanda Holpuch in the New York Times

I replaced all the good bird seed with unshelled black sunflower seeds to send the soft-beaked starlings a subtle message: Fuck off, friends. They descend to peck vindictively at the remains of the suet. The crows visit to caw at me periodically throughout the day; they've trained me to toss peanuts into the yard on command.

A few days ago, I pulled into the Back Cove lot to get a look at a giant wire art installation — two huge egret heads against the blue sky. In the Subaru parked beside me, a man was calmly eating food with a fork as a woman in the passenger seat leaned out the open car door and vomited on the asphalt. When she was done, she closed the door and they both swigged from a bottle of mouthwash, swished for a long time, and then simultaneously opened their doors and spit on the ground.

The song my brain sings whilst I sit on my parents' fancy heated toilet seat in late June: hot seat in the summertime, to the tune of this.

“To kill an eel, seize it with a cloth and bang its head violently against a hard surface.” — Larousse Gastronomique, 1938

*I devised a torture-chamber-looking method of diverting the pooper that involves take-out chopsticks and skewers. Watch this space for DIY slug murder and powdery mildew abatement.

Everything present is made out of the past

It's November, and you know what that means! I attempt to write a blog post every day and don't...quite. Maybe I'll get it this year: hooray for low-stakes challenges!

Thought: Public art in the roundabout like something out of the George Saunders story The Semplica-Girl Diaries. Pay $18/hr for humans to stand there? 

Thought: Mark Zuckerberg's plastic Lego hair. Also his plastic Lego soul.

Habit: Everyday, watching the middle schoolers walk in groups, or alone, I smile at the ones who walk alone.

Internetty: Hello, it's me, age 54, googling "can you take a dog on a cruise?" 

Vicarious excitement: An Amazing Race to the airport (Zoë on the bus, bound for Israel, Mark in the car with...her vaccine card).

Remembering: Just a couple of weeks ago, on our mini-Anniversary-getaway-weekend, Mark and I ate dinner outside at a fish shack, and a man who worked there pointed at Clover and said, "Wait! Wasn't that dog here for lunch?" (I guess she has a doppelgänger in the Lincolnville area!)

Animals:

• An enormous brown hawk, swooping down low, so close to my head it made me say "Whoa!"
• A busy animal hurrying into a shrub, disguising itself as a cute, tiny squirrel: in retrospect, obviously a rat.
• So many dogs, always.
• Mice, a-pooping in my kitchen cabinet.

Reading: Proust could declutter his apartment all he liked, but he couldn’t stop people from serving him madeleines.

Should I big up my font like so?

His works, despite their ebullient palette, are frequently tinged with a melancholic yearning.

At the end of my dream last night, I was in a nightclub at a little round table, watching an older cabaret singer, who crooned this melancholy song:

There's no green anymore
There's no grass anymore
Where do dogs play?
Where do dogs run?

For a good time, call us

We've had two big old Nor'easters already this fall, and we had about seven small trees' worth of willow branches spread all over our yard to dispose of. We enlisted Jonah's help while we still have him (he's heading back to San Francisco in a couple of weeks after living with us for several months).

As I was flinging branches into this truck (we decided it looks like we're heading out to do the flowers for a high-end wedding reception), a candidate for mayor walked by, and I called out,"Hey! Good luck!" and now I'm worried that they might not have realized I meant in next week's election. What if they think I was just greeting everyone who passed by with, "Hey! Good luck!"?

The capability to grow and bloom in a weightless environment

• Last night, as I walked the dogs past the house in my neighborhood where the professional musicians live, I heard the sound of music — loud, symphonic, and coming from a parked car in front of their house. Both dogs growled low (it was 10pm and we don't normally hear classical music blasting on this street at night). I hurried them along and wished I knew enough to recognize the piece, averting my gaze so the person in the car could have some privacy.
• Did you know about vanitas? I didn't! "A still life artwork which includes various symbolic objects designed to remind the viewer of their mortality and of the worthlessness of worldly goods and pleasures." So, not merely a reminder of mortality. ALSO, the worthlessness of worldly goods and pleasures! So good!
• As of 2016 there was a zinnia in bloom on the International Space Station.* There is a whole Wikipedia entry for plants in space!**

Zinnia in zero gravity. That's us in the background.

*I haven't been able to determine whether or not it's still in bloom, or if it's figured out how to reseed itself in a weightless environment.

**Of course I'm thinking PLANTS...IN...SPACE.

Would you like anything to read?

I made this gif for you.

make holiday GIFs like this at MakeaGif

I have been trying to be better organized about great articles I've read, books I'd like to read, pieces I mean to go back to later when I have more time. I'll let you know if I stumble on a great system for keeping track of it all. On helpful tip is less social media, more blogs and magazines and real books, but we all know how easy that is!

I recently read and enjoyed the old-fashioned paper books All You Can Ever Know by Nichole Chung and The Possessed by Elif "I'll read anything she writes" Batuman. Oh, also Asymmetry, which I'm happy to go back to with my virtual book club soon.

Mark and I have watched the first episode of Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat (which was FAT, not SALT, which obviously offends my sensibilities a little bit), and I really love Samin Nosrat and enjoyed everything about the episode except the graphic and possibly gratuitous pig-butchery that occurs. Anyway, several family members got a copy of her book last year at Christmas, including Isaac, and I read about half of his copy. And (to get to my point), this article about candy tasting by Samin is so fun. The caramels at the beginning reminded me of Holly, who adores them.

I love you, Jenny Holzer.

"Solastalgia is a combination of three elements: 'Solas' references the English word 'solace,' which comes from the Latin root solari meaning comfort in the face of distressing forces. But it is also a reference to 'desolation,' which has its origins in the Latin solus and desolare, which both connote ideas of abandonment and loneliness. 'Algia' comes from the Greek root -algia, which means pain, suffering, or sickness."

Insensible losses

Insensible loss must be the most beautiful medical term ever. The smoke your breath becomes when it's bitterly cold? That's an insensible loss. Peeing? That's a sensible loss.


I have a pile of library books to dive into. I've walked the dogs, extra walked the little one in the woods, watered the plants, and cleaned the litter box. I started my day with homemade butter coffee (butter is basically ice cream, you know), homemade granola, yogurt, and sweet, ripe strawberries.


Here's my latest Google Street View idea: 

Kid, immortalized

I don't know — something about people who are caught unawares by the Googlemobile or whatever it's called. Maybe involving thread.*




*this is basically how my creative ideas go.

You'll Freeze Out There

I enjoy watching people gesture wildly when I can't hear what they're saying. The other day, at the Harvard Art Museum, my parents and I enjoyed several long minutes watching from a balcony as a woman below us gesticulated in an animated way in the direction of a marble statue. She seemed to be explaining or commenting or lecturing for the benefit of her companions. Her hands moved in pointing, slicing, chopping motions. Just now I watched two women across the street walking together in the cold, stopping periodically so one of them could wave her arms about and move her mouth. Was she angry at the other woman? Telling a funny story? Why couldn't she keep walking while she told it? It's really cold out today.



Among today's words I've so far blurbed: plutocrat, podcast, pocketbook, poach, plywood. I wanted to go overtly political all over "plutocrat." I wanted to gesticulate wildly, in fact.

I love podcasts.
I have a strong feeling about plywood, too.
I have learned to poach an egg pretty well, if I do say so myself.
The word "pocketbook" makes me think of my grandmother.
The word "plutocrat" makes me angry.

i like slow things, the way they happen again and again

scenes from my perfect weekend in cambridge, massachusetts.







































mom and dad have a pied à terre in this lovely old house, under that pretty blue sky.







































we went to the isabella stewart gardner museum, which was packed with people but so much fun to see. it's full of art, luxurious silks and velvets and leathers, (wall coverings, furniture) faded tapestries and books and paintings and crumbling sculptures. it's a wonderful combination of grand and cluttered-eclectic. plus, you can get so close to everything (which makes for some high-strung security guards, not to mention the history of thefts there). also, no photography is allowed, but i snuck this one picture of the lush courtyard at the center of the house.







































here are two of many many delicious foodstuffs we shared this weekend. boston cream pie and banana cream pie (both vegan) at veggie galaxy. so good, i can't even tell you. we also had amazing meals at red lentil and thaitation.







































oh, wallace. he held my ring for me whilst i was receiving a paraffin wax hand treatment from my maman, and despite the fact that i took this picture, i forgot to put it back on. so here i am in portland, maine, sans wedding ring. in addition to the wax museum hands (i wish i'd taken a photo of them--they looked so weird, but felt so good), i also had a massage and was generally spoiled in every conceivable way. we walked in the sunshine and met up with my sweet old friends scott and michael for coffee and watched 30 rock and i got to read books and sleep in and see a great movie. see what i mean about perfect?


trees, their legacy of green, by paavo haavikko

let your heart be light

today's dog comes to you from friday night's art walk. mark had to restrain me from dognapping this adorable dog, who was waiting patiently outside local sprouts for his/her person to emerge.

i love the december art walk. portland's holiday lights are the best.

these trees always remind me of dr seuss, somehow.

 

twenty-one

my birthday present from my bruddy arrived!

he gave me a subscription to quarterly, a service that sends you cool things in the mail periodically. my very first mailing arrived today, two little notebooks and two tattly temporary tattoos by marc johns: I LOVE THEM.

you smell like plums and garlic!

wow, what a block party last night. the video below demonstrates possibly the best thing that ever happened in portland.

that's what cheer! brigade from providence, and they helped turn congress street into new orleans for an hour or so. it was magical (and watch for a plaid-shirted isaac dancing past at the beginning).

my other favorite thing was the analog tweets project by pickwick press. people could submit "tweets" and have them block printed on fabric and hauled up the side of the building. mark and i hung out with the dancer and chatted with some of our favorite people, while isaac danced down the street and assisted oliver, who was filming the whole thing as part of his intern job at pickwick.

we finished up the evening by sharing a three-taco plate at taco escobarr. the price was right (three for $7.50), and they were delicious (vegetable tacos, crispy-style), but the atmosphere was...weird. sports bar-weird, i guess. stools and high tables, kind of bad music. maybe it's just me. most likely (well, not just me, but me and my two cheap-date pals).

pied à terre

scenes from 36 hours in cambridge (mom and dad are visiting stella and her family right now, as everybody gets ready for the arrival of stella's baby brother -- so we lounged around their empty condo for a couple of days).

colorful cacti.

isaac says this to me a lot.

smart bookstore.

punjabi dhaba for lunch!

mark and i took a walk through harvard square, got coffee and cookies from crema cafe, and sat in the sunshine with a view of flowers.

one of many buddhas.

art by me, circa 1972. this is "sunny day," and on the flip side is "rainy day," which is done hastily with a blue ballpoint pen. to depict the grimness of a rainy day? or because i ran out of enthusiasm for the project? "sunny day," as you can see, illustrates the joy of a sunny day, complete with the sun's rays shooting through the air, and bunches of insanely happy, big-eyed people wearing hats and smoking pipes.

home from cambridge. minnow's ear was in the cup holder.

something freshly birdish

there's been so much art in my life over the past week. last friday, the checkout girl and i drove down for jen's opening at nahcotta in portsmouth. her work of late has centered around these gorgeous papercuts, simple colors, incredible patterns. it was beautiful, and a treat to see jen. and then we treated ourselves to the friendly toast too!

(quietly, among the flowers by jennifer judd-mcgee. click on the photo for purchasing information.)

below, isaac's mask. art teacher, to isaac: "isaac, are you done with your shading...OH."

and JENNY HOLZER on tuesday night. we heard her speak, and then the audience trooped outside in the cold to watch this projection (words by the polish poet wislawa szymborska) move mesmerizingly down the front of the portland museum of art. it was so striking, strangely moving (and did i mention, COLD?).

finally, my own humble contribution to this week in artistic endeavor, the final words of j.m. barrie, "i can't sleep."

it rained and then the sun came out

last night i picked the boy up from his boat in the pouring rain, and then i bought him a couple of slices of otto pizza (he was starving), and then he and mark and i walked the wettest art walk i've ever participated in.

megan had a show at whitney art works, where i snapped these marlowe-isaac photos. isaac looks pretty good for a kid who hasn't taken a shower in a week.

completely unrelated to the above, zoë and i scored five of these rooster glasses at goodwill. drinking glasses are something i have no need of, as i have an extensive collection of pickle and jam jars filling my cabinets. but roosters!

block party

space gallery hosted a block party last night on and off congress street, and it was pretty wonderful. the highlight was a steam roller making giant woodblock prints on oak street.

steamroller!

giant woodblock:

it was gratifyingly amazing to watch, and even better was the reaction of the surrounding crowd, which would collectively cheer and applaud every time the steam roller rolled over the blocks, and then again when each finished print was peeled up off its block and revealed. portland felt like the perfect little city last night.

there were other festivities: crazily quilted quilts, a band that was reputed to be brazillian (and whose keyboardist looked just like peggy olson from mad men), a giant office photobooth by nathan, veggie hotdogs with saurkraut and brown mustard from the baja dogs food cart, kids building towers of huge blocks and knocking them down (on 9/11. very disturbing to some of us), and finally, some dancing in the street by my boy and some friends:

my apologies for the tininess of that video. i clearly need to remember to film things in landscape (i.e. sideways). still, he's got the moves, doesn't he?

island

isaac is off on an adventure* this week: but first, we celebrated father's day with a short hike at bradbury "mountain." maine state parks were free that day, which was kind of a wonderful surprise. below, mark, isaac, and max at the top of the mountain hill.






















at some point, isaac made me take creepy pictures of him wearing a weird jacket and holding one of his fake guns. looking dead.






















and he gave me another very special temporary tattoo.























 *he's on vinalhaven until next weekend with his friend jack's family, playing around, making movies, being computer-less and tv-less and -- if he's inspired to -- participating in designinquiry. i miss that boy.

various things that happened on friday

at some point, there were zombie hunters in my kitchen.























zoë, mark and i went to the library, where she got some books about learning hindi, complete with helpful travel phrases.



















i was going to get this book for minnow, but then i saw it was for people.























the main event at the library was isaac's eighth grade culminating event, based on the four freedoms*. this is his gorgeous collage, illustrating "freedom from want," focusing specifically on access to education.























*which was the theme of the poster stolen from isaac's social studies classroom by the knox county republicans last month, remember?

days go by

art magically appears on the chalkboard door in the kitchen.























i go to the post office, where my favorite thing is checking our box. i think the post office boxes are gorgeous and kind of mysterious.























boo acquires additions to his wardrobe. some of these items are green.























i take minnow to the vet for his lyme vaccine. we both love her, because she sits on the floor with him, lets him lick her entire face, and says, "who's the best dog in the whole world? you are. you are."

inspired

pardon the sudden nudity on the previously decently clothed mean mama. i just happened upon meagan ileana's gorgeous blog, threadbare, and i am incredibly inspired by her embroidery. just look at this gorgeous piece, called freedom.

lucky me

not only did my valentime give me a brand new bottle of my favorite smelly lotion (as well as a bunch of goodies for the little valentimes), i also received this beautiful, beautiful print in the mail from my sweet aunt sooze:
























isn't it gorgeous? it's made by hollie chastain, who has an etsy shop i like to ogle. i bet i sent the link to sooze along with copious hints and reminders of how much i love crows. i don't know if you can see, but it incorporates not only crows, but public schools, letters, and trees. more of my favorite things.
























on the theme of valentine's day, i'd like to add that if minnow and i had entered this dog kissing contest we would have won, no problem.