two kitties

Thomas Allen: Uncovered

Twenty-one percent of Americans surveyed in a 2006 BBC news poll said they received more spiritual guidance from Oprah Winfrey than the leader(s) of their respective religious communities.

I'm not sure about THAT, but I loved the Thomas Allen illustrations in this month's O Magazine. This photo is a scan from the issue. Worth a few bucks just for Allen's art, which graces a whole section on memoir. Perhaps my favorite piece was the one written by Lorene Cary.

Allen creates three dimensional collages from books found at thrift stores. The work is then photographed and printed on 4 x 6" paper. The photo is as important as the thing, in other words. Kind of like the way Andy Goldsworthy approaches his work.

You can purchase Allen's book, Uncovered, from the Aperture Foundation. Allen worked with long-time collaborator Chip Kidd on the cover design of his own book.

Fire in the Blood: The Observer's Paradox

..."the family, friends and neighbors -- people sometimes not seen in years but who suddenly turn up, like corks bobbing to the surface, each one awakening the memory of quarrels that started back in the mists of time, past loves, former grudges, engagements broken then forgotten, inheritances and law suits...such a gathering of ghosts! In big cities, people either see each other all the time or never, it's simpler. Here...Corks in water, that's what I say. Hey, presto, there they are! And what a stir they cause, how many old memories they dredge up. Then down they go again and, for ten years, they're forgotten..."

-- Irene Nemirovsky, "Fire in the Blood"

Lately, it seems that everyone I encounter is either gathering up old hurts or trying to push them down. Death, illness, broken friendships, memories of the old self in the old life gladly left behind. Like it or not, it's the pull of the planets forcing us to look back, present yourself, try to forget; be forgotten.

The really interesting stuff happens, of course, when the old life bobs up within the new. Sylvestre, the narrator of Irene Nemirovsky's "Fire in the Blood" makes this observation at a wedding reception, watching the interactions between locals and city relatives rarely seen.

I thought something like that myself when I attended my cousin's wedding a few weeks ago. I guessed it had been eighteen years since I'd seen some of them. I wondered which awkward memories they would dredge up for my new-ish husband. And then the questions they won't ask me, but might ask each other, like "What happened to the other guy?" I'd like to hear the answer to that one, actually, since the most interesting bits are the ones I have always kept to myself. Mostly, anyway.

But really, no one asked me ANYTHING, and in a way, I was disappointed. The network of family observers had gotten there first and their version, I guess, was considered as valid as my own. Even though the odds are that it's probably pretty far from the truth I would tell. It's funny when someone (mistakenly) thought I was practicing medicine in Wyoming. Not as funny when they don't seem interested in the right answer.

This social dysfunction touches more folk than just my family. No one seems allowed to tell their own stories anymore - just consider the drama around "memoirgate." The crisis of representation that brought cultural anthropology to it's post-modern knees is the same logic that has fed the radical growth of accusations and personal memory. Truth turned on it's ear.

You can remember your life however you want to, but ultimately, your family, friends, colleagues, even the building janitors have more ethnographic authority about your life than you ever will. Just a small part of the conversation I've been having over at Citizen Reader about truth in non-fiction.  

Jennifer Khoshbin's Art from Vintage Books

I just spent a week slicing up old books and nothing like this ever occurred to me. I love it! Jennifer Khoshbin has many more beautiful pieces on her website. Check it out!

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

Jayber Crow was, is, the best book I've ever read. The only book in my life that made me scream OUT LOUD in bed at it's conclusion, and the only book I finished and then flipped immediately back to page one.

Each summer, Mike and I choose a book to read aloud at night when we are camping in Glacier Park. I can't wait for that. I started reading it to him last night on the deck and we read until the sun went down.

It is the simple story of a gentleman barber named Jayber Crow in the small town of Port William, Kentucky. At least it seems simple on the surface, but the story of someone's life is always more interesting when you pull at the seams, isn't it? It would be impossible for me to unwind it all here. Jayber says,

"...for a long time then I seemed to live by a slender thread of faith, spun out from within me. From this single thread I spun strands that joined me to the good things of the world. And then I spun more threads that joined all the strands together, making a life. When it was complete, or nearly so, it was shapely and beautiful in the light of day. It endured through the nights, but sometimes it only barely did. It would be tattered and set awry by things that fell or blew or fled or flew. Many of the strands would be broken. Those I would have to spin and weave again in the morning. But of course the story of my life is not finished yet. I will not live to tell the end of it...(p.330)"

(The photo is mine - taken on a visit to the ghost town of Bannock, Montana last winter.)

The View From Here: Some Poems I like

i am a little church (no great cathedral) by ee cummings

Meat Science by Pam Crow

Courage, by Anne Sexton

Kinky, by Denise Duhamel

Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes, by Billy Collins

Weird-Bird by Shel Silverstein

The view from my Oregon couch is very different from the view on my Montana couch. Something I'm thinking about since I after next week I'll be couch-bound for awhile.

Buying Goodwill: Thift Store Books and Magazines

Lately, I've been finding most of my reading at Goodwill, just browsing until I make a random love connection to an author or a title that begs me to pull it off the shelf. That's how I came across two recent titles I've always wanted to own - Autobiography of a Face, and Cinematherapy.

In bookstores, I choose books the way I choose wines: I look at the title and if it resonates, I pull it off the shelf to read the back cover.

All too often, the copy was written by some publishing intern that probably never read the book - "What happens when a (fill-in-the-blank) meets a (fill-in-the-blank) with a (fill-in-the-blank)?" I hate that. Back on the shelf.

I read the first few paragraphs and if the story completely sucks me in, I buy the book. This strategy has served me pretty well - it's how I found favorites like Necklace of Kisses.

Occasionally, I'll take a book home and find that, no matter how promising it seemed, it can't keep my attention. Like Atonement. I just couldn't get through it.

Book Lust librarian Nancy Pearl says that you should use the "Rule of 50" in those situations. If you are 50 years old or younger, give the book about 100 pages before you put it down. If you're over 50, give it 50 pages. Life is short after all.

Nudges, an essay by Anne Lamott

In her book, Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith, Anne Lamott writes a touching essay, "Nudges", about the love and friendship landscapes we wander. The pain of ambiguous goodbyes.

She writes:

"If my heart were a garden, it would be in bloom with roses and wrinkly Indian poppies and wild flowers. There would be two unmarked tracts of scorched earth, and scattered headstones covered with weeds and ivy and moss, a functioning compost pile, great tangles of blackberry bushes, and some piles of trash I've meant to haul away for years."

It sounds so much more beautiful that way, doesn't it? This is a great book.

The Secret Spell of Typeface: Helvetica Turns 50

Did you know that the type or font you choose in your email can send a kind of subliminal message to the reader? The right typeface can give so much more depth to the message on the screen.

This year, the typeface Helvetica turns 50. This is a clean and easy font. A type that represents all things simple and modern.

Today, Filmmaker Gary Hustwit releases Helvetica: The Movie to DVD. The film explores the proliferation of the Helvetica typeface and engages the viewer in a broader investigation of how typeface affects our every day lives. Enjoy the clip!

Last-Minute Patchwork Gifts

Everyone is buying Joelle Hoverson's new book, Last-Minute Patchwork and Quilted Gifts.

I love anything with a bird, so I can't wait to try the project on the cover.

I was also so glad to see the handiwork of my CPF, Isabelle Grizzard, included in the book.

Come Early Morning

Over the weekend, Mike and I watched Ashley Judd in Come Early Morning. The film was written by Joey Lauren Adams and debuted at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival.

Was it good? Yes. But it was a complicated kind of good - and not your milk and cookies Ashley Judd. But maybe the best film example I've seen of what Daniel Gilbert said about the search for happiness.

A Field Guide to Getting Lost

Colombian artist Andrea Acosta tried to get lost in the city of Worpswede, Germany while planning an installation project. She says, "I found myself looking at the enormous amount of street signs that crowd the view of the streets, telling you where and how to look and move...

I found myself looking at the signs themselves [and] the grey space hidden in their backside, at the grey surfaces that are always there but somehow invisible, camouflaged within the constructed landscape we are so used to."

Rebecca Solnit, the author of the book, A Field Guide to Getting Lost says that the word lost derives from the old Norse term for "disbanding an army." She fears that "many people never disband their armies, never go beyond what they know." I've found that to be true.

Solnit continues, "There's an art to attending to the weather, to the route you take, to the landmarks along the way. . . . And there's another art of being at home in the unknown, so that being in its midst isn't cause for panic or suffering."

Acosta altered the back of the street signs to create an unexpected, almost ephemeral encounter within a more concrete environment. These subtle, organic forms are cut from vinyl would be barely noticeable to the self-absorbed.

From now on, I'll always check the back of street signs when I'm confused about where my life is heading. Find more street art at the Wooster Collective.

Andrea Acosta's "B-Side: See Reverse for Directions", Variable dimensions. Adhesive vinyl cuts, ink, found dirt and moos on the backside of street signs. Worpswede (Bergstraße), Germany. July 2007

Goyte - Heart's a Mess

Murder by David Halliday

Murder uses collage and prose to tell the story of an innocent man accused of killing a starlet.

Artist and writer David Halliday published Murder as an e-book, and you can download this short piece here.

I Have Always Loved You or "Typeface Matters"

Amy Krouse Rosenthal reminded me of something important:

You Can Decide When It Hurts

I started out the summer with big ideas. I was going to sit in the shaded cool of my gazebo and escape into the pages of Prokosch, Voltaire, and Goethe. Maybe I'd put the book down from time-to-time, sip on an iced chai and dreamily remember the summers of my youth. Of course that never happened.

I did do quite a bit of reading, but the smoke kept me inside and my books led me on a different journey than the one I had planned. Instead of the strained socio-political musings of Dead White European Males, I wound up with a batch of books about complicated relationships of all kinds.

Lets start with Stephanie - the narrator of 1968's Lovers and Tyrants. She begins her story, "I shall never cease to marvel at the way we beg for love and tyranny" and continues with a miserably accurate picture of the disappointments of married life. A magnifying glass held up to the parts that each of us will recognize but might choose not to bring into focus. And definitely keep ourselves from muttering out loud! Stephanie believes that accepting shelter from a man is the same thing as accepting a life of servitude. The author, Francine du Plessix-Gray is only ruminating on the changing roles of women in the late 1960's, but if you're at all unhappy in your relationship, don't read this book. It's depressing.

Somehow, Lovers and Tyrants led me to Palace Walk, the first of Najib Mahfuz' Nobel prize-winning "Cairo Trilogy." This is the story of a wealthy, conservative Muslim family living in Cairo during the mid-1900s. The city is under British occupation and the city is on the verge of rebellion. The book was published in the 1950s but only recently translated into English. A great translation it is, too.

In Palace Walk, the position of Muslim women connects noticeably to the questions about shelter and servitude asked by du Plessix-Gray in Lovers and Tyrants. But perhaps more interesting for me was the issue of voice throughout the novel. The characters asking themselves - what can and cannot be said in a marriage? A business relationship? Between parent and child or citizen and military occupant? Who can (or cannot) speak and for whom? How does what we choose to say (or choose not to say) change the course of our lives at home, and just as important, the political future of the country? Important questions for now.

Several weddings take place throughout Palace Walk.  So delicious to read those joyful threads. So often what we read about the Middle East is devoid of cultural sensibilities; broadbrush criticism with little understanding for the beauty complexity of every day life in these places.

But by far, my favorite summer read was the recently released translation of Per Petterson's novel, Out Stealing Horses. A MUST READ. It took me just two days to read this book, and I think it would have been better if I'd had the time to read it straight through. Not being forced to break away from the steady, quiet rhythm of Trond's thoughts, the main character who thrives on the routines of his solitary life. After the tragic death of his wife, Trond returns to a summer cabin in the Norwegian forest where he logged with his father as a boy. And its no surprise he goes back there after the death of his wife. It was there that his father taught him, "Trond, you can decide when it hurts."

Out Stealing Horses is the story of family life as Trond remembers it, weaving the past in with the present chapter by chapter. At first it seems as if nothing much is happening at all. And then, just like our own lives, you look back and the story unfolds in front of you and makes perfect sense. As if you should have known all along. What you've done wrong or right; missed connections, the mind tracing the foggy paths of what might have been.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite parts of the story, an exchange between Trond and his father after Trond falls off his horse in the woods:

"Does it hurt a lot anywhere?"'

"Not really," I said.

"Only a little bit in your soul?"

"Maybe a bit."

"Let it sink, Trond," he said. "just leave it. You can't use it for anything."

Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson

"People like it when you tell them things, in suitable portions, in a modest, intimate tone, and they think they know you, but they do not, they know about you, for what they are let in on are facts, not feelings, not what your opinion is about anything at all, not how what has happened to you and how all the decisions you have made have turned you into who you are. What they do is they fill in with their own feelings and opinions and assumptions, and they compose a new life which has precious little to do with yours, and that lets you off the hook."

I've felt this way all my life, but have never been able to articulate what Per Petterson was able to do in a single sentence. I had to have the book.

(Excerpt from Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson, translated from the Norwegian by Anne Born. Translation copyright 2007 by Anne Born. Graywolf Press, Saint Paul, Minnesota.)

Good to Bad Mood - Click on it!

My bad mood flow chart was inspired by one in Amy Krouse Rosenthal's book Encyclopedia of An Ordinary Life.

400words.com: The Literature of Everyday Life

I'm hooked on 400 Words. I came across a link to this short-short-fiction website while browsing a recent issue of Brooklyn Rail.

Here, writers tell their life stories in one page or less. Anyone can submit a story. The most recent issue is about Work: Tell the whole story of your working life in 400 words or less.

Check the website to read the stories and find submission guidelines for future issues.

400 Words has an RSS feed if you want to have new stories delivered to your email inbox.

Featherproof Books

featherproof BOOKS participated in the Hip Lit festival at Chicago MOCA last month.

I chatted with Jonathan, one of the founders, then picked up a small bagful of featherproof's mini-books. I thought I might give them as gifts, but you know what? I love them, I love them, I love them!

And like the sad lost kitten that arrives at your backdoor that you can't bear to give away - I must keep them. But don't worry. You can download these stories for yourself on the featherproof website - for free.

And while you're there, consider making a purchase. I'm liking "Degrees of Separation", a limited edition postcard book featuring the work of designers with ties to storm ravaged New Orleans.

Huang Xiang: Poet in Exile

The North American Network of Cities of Asylum (or NANCA) provides sanctuary to writers exiled under threat of death, imprisonment, or persecution in their native countries. 

Writer/painter Huang Xiang is considered to be the pre-eminent post cultural revolution poet of China. In exile in the United States since 1997, Xiang is currently resident poet under the Cities of Asylum/Pittsburgh program for writers.

A recently released short film by Jose Muniain lets Xiang tell his compelling story.

Japanese Crafts - Soft Toy Patterns

At last! My book of japanese soft toy patterns from Chocolate Swirl has arrived.

I'm pretty excited. It's not often you find a sewing pattern for a flying fox!

Bookcrossing.com

On the way home from Chicago, I picked up a magazine called Mental Floss to read on the plane. It was advertised as the place where "Knowledge Junkies Get Their Fix." I dunno about that..... My issue had two full pages of little known facts about Elvis.

But the MF ad for bookcrossing.com caught my eye. Book crossing is the practice of leaving a book in a public place in the hopes that others will pick it up, read it, and then do likewise.

The website is a free, electronic registry that allows leavers to track the whereabouts of their publicly abandoned books. Or, if you are interested in finding a book, you can log on to the website to look for clues.

Only 14 books registered in Montana, but that's probably going to change..........

70's Style

I found this 1970's sewing book at my local Salvation Army Store yesterday. I thought I might be able to use some of the bohemian style embroidery patterns in the back of the book, so I bought it for the bargain price of fifty cents.

I didn't have a chance to really go through it until I got home. People, can I tell you that I now own THE manual of bad 70's style? If I'm not mistaken, isn't this the beautiful Cheryl Tiegs in the yellow lederhosen? Can you see yourself in a yellow flowered romper like the one on the left?

What I love the most about The Complete Manual of Sewing are the photos in the "home decor" section. You can still see bits and pieces of 70's furniture and textiles around - usually as sad, overlooked relics in thrift stores - but it's rare to be able to see them placed within their original glory.

There are a lot of interesting things about these rooms - but what really pops out at me is the intense color combinations, especially in the bedrooms. I also get the feeling that plastic as a raw material for furniture was something special at the time. What do you think of these styles?

Winter Wheat

Mildred Walker's novel "Winter Wheat" tells the story of Ellen Webb, a teenager growing up in central Montana's dryland wheat country in the 1940's.  The novel was first published in 1944 and was the inaugural One Book for Montana's community reading program. 

I fell in love with the way Walker wrote about wheat country and clung to every page of Ellen's story: "I love the wheat and I hate it. I love the green blades of winter wheat in the spring. They show through the snow on the ground and make the only bright color in that winter world of grays and blacks and whites."  At college, Ellen falls in love with a man from St. Paul and invites him to Montana to visit. He is uncomfortable with the rustic working life that Ellen and her family live on the farm, and suddenly, she sees her home life through his eyes - a lonely struggle against the unpredictable elements in a town void of "beauty", big city luxuries and entertainments.

I read "Winter Wheat" just after finishing "When the Meadowlark Sings", an autobiography written by Montana farm wife Nedra Sterry.  Sterry tells her story of Montana ranch life without any embellishment. She loved the farm, but quite frankly, she had just way too much to do to sit around romanticizing about wheat. Sterry writes during harvest the year she turned 45, she finally felt as if she was "caught up". Her children were grown and could help on the farm while Sterry pursued her writing in the evening. It wasn't to be. Two weeks after harvest she learned she was pregnant. And so it started all over again.

So many people tell me, "I wish I had the time to sew/knit/write", which makes me chuckle when you think of how hard our grandmothers worked on the farm or at jobs outside the home. Both books reminded me of how austere farm and ranch life could be, and how critical women were to survival in rural communities. In those days women's work - cooking, fruit canning, home sewing, embroidery, knitting and even raising children - were the tools of domestic survival. There is an often-read letter in Mike's family history from a great aunt who wrote that she felt "lucky" to have a [one] needle. 

One generation later, it's all still gendered as women's work, but now these activities belong to women of "leisure" - complete with negative stereotypes. Why do people automatically forget I run a consulting business when I mention I've been sewing? One outcome of the feminist movement seems to be that it's ok for women to enjoy themselves, as long as they've set the needlework down and closed the kitchen door behind them. It's meant to be a relic of the past, when women's work went unrecognized in the background of family life. Someone from the outside looking in might overlook the joy in the making and giving of the craft.

And as that generation of women slips away so does much of the meaning and tradition in family life.It wasn't until I was older that I understood how hard my grandmother worked at putting beauty and meaning into her everyday chores.  She clipped coupons and perfume samples and mailed them every week with a handwritten letter. She always arrived at our house with a bag of offerings - quilts, embroidered tea towels, canned fruits and home made bread were her specialties.  If you want to know loss, try coming to terms with the realization that not one of us ever learned how to make the whole wheat bread that was on her table at every meal. 

I'm carrying her lesson with me the last few years. Creating beauty in the everyday matters and, in the case of my grandmother, those quilts, pillowcases and handwritten letters are more than relics of days gone by, now those gifts are precious because they ARE her in my life. It was so much more than just passing time.