in praise of slow

it’s been quiet here. I try to make an effort, especially around the holidays, to slow down and be quiet. I’m contrary that way. And stubborn. I refuse to get caught up in harried consumption and stress during what is supposed to be a joyful holiday that emphasizes peace and goodwill.

But I’ve been feeling quiet anyway. I felt sickened and crushed over the news James Kim’s passing. The news is one of my strongest addictions, and when I saw the headline that announced that his body was found, I just wanted to sink down and huddle into something soft and cry. I am so struck by the lengths this couple went to protect and save their children. I am sad that he died not knowing the fate of his family; that they were o.k.

This was another headline until I found Kati Kim’s name again and again in the craft blogs I frequent. She and her shops Doe and the Church Street Apothecary have been instrumental in supporting the craft movement in San Francisco, garnering friendships with crafters along the way. I admire how the craft community has taken blogging and created a community of inspiration, friendships and shared knowledge. They are by far my favorite blogs. I would love to visit San Francisco and Portland, Oregon and take in the work out there. There’s so much great work being done that is beautiful and functional, and ultimately inspirational. I love seeing the human touch behind things I admire.

I have myself been sewing, mostly. By hand. I still have an uneasy relationship with my two machines. I like hand sewing because it’s more intuitive…I like to feel the thread,  the fabric, and the  tension running between my fingers as I sew the stitches. There’s more time to think about what I’m doing, as when I’m painting.

Still no snow. Call me crazy, but I’m craving just a light dusting. In the meantime, my snowflake windows will have to do.

dukka and inevitability

so I’ve been closely following the corporate rumblings and shakeups over at my local newspapers, the Hartford Courant, and the Hartford Advocate, which are both owned by The Tribune. You may have read my prior rants and grumblings about the cutbacks and changes in the newspaper that have come about while the company tries to restructure itself and lure a potential buyer. My interest in this has been mostly as a reader, and is probably most thoroughly rooted in sentimentality. Newspapers are a habit; a tradition,  and one of the last remnants of  cherished memories  of my late father.

But beyond the newsprint are people’s livelihoods, of course, and Alistair Highet’s piece on the changes at his paper and his application of the Buddhist concept of dukka (everything is impermanent, unsustainable), is an interesting read.

bits and pieces…

I’m feeling somewhat bad…well, not exactly bad…let’s say guilty, a little, about my previous rant regarding the newspaper. I’ve basically outgrown tantrums, for the most part. But I still dislike the Tribune. I think they’re cheap. I sympathise with the changes going on in the industry, particularly with newspapers, but just hacking away bluntly at a product without reader input is not the way to do business. The good news is that most of my favorite columnists will still be available. They’ll just be in other parts of the main paper, like the Life section. Hey, maybe the “food critic” I love to hate, Michael Gannon, will flounce in a huff. I can dream, anyway.

I’m still not satisfied though. Part of the appeal of the Northeast was finding perspectives and slices of life in one place, alongside each other, melding and complimenting each other. Now they’re scattered around like adopted stepchildren. It won’t be the same. Should I even care? Why does this bother me so much, I ask myself? Probably because with the exception of the library and a few local programs like the Nature Center and the local organic farm/art center, I haven’t felt as much community in Connecticut as I’ve felt other places I’ve lived. Everywhere I go,  even on vacation, I have to check out the local paper. And for seven years, this section of the paper has been my connection to the community I live in.

***

I’d mentioned in a meme that I have frequent strange dreams. This one reoccuring dream has me miffed. Every time it visits me, I wonder at the existential possibilities, if there are any.

In this dream, which I’ve had five or six times in the last year, I am foraging around in my favorite store…a thrift shop. I’ve never really been to this particular thrift shop, in fact, it doesn’t really exist except in my dreams, but I recognize it instantly. It’s on a street in Northampton, where I used to live. It’s huge. I find lots of vintage clothes and various treasures. Never any books though. Odd. There is one section that I try to get to every single time, but I wake up before I get there.

What does this mean? Is this fictional thrift shop some idea of heaven, only I haven’t gotten there yet? Or is it life, and this room represents something important that I haven’t gotten to yet? Or….does it mean merely that I spend too much time slumming around in thrift shops and need an intervention?

Dunno.

i hate the tribune

and I wish they’d leave my newpaper alone! I just read that one of my favorite Sunday pleasures, The Northeast, is shutting down in two weeks. Ever since the Trib bought the Hartford Courant, that paper has gone downhill. There are few things that make me rant more than seeing a favorite columnist cut, or some lame redesign with thinner content in my newspaper. Cutting down the paper is NOT going to motivate me to BUY the paper. Leave my freaking newspaper alone!

I hope the Trib’s Cubbies’s don’t win a World Series until the year 3999. Grrrr.

i love St. Bill….

Quote of the Day “They rediscover bin Laden every two years right before the election. If you had a business strategy that worked all the time that was premised on scaring the living daylights out of people, you just keep doing it.” – Bill Clinton, in an interview on Bloomberg Television’s Political Capital with Al Hunt, about the Republican strategy for the midterm elections.

Finally free of the assholes in Congress, Bill can say whatever he wants.

Fox interview on Sunday

I love him. I love him. I love him. He’s even great out of office. Bush can only dream of such a legacy.

Lemonade

This is a worthy way to make lemonade out of lemons. I would have contacted a soup kitchen and had homeless people feast on the spread, or donated all the food, but still, a nice story.