Sunday, December 26, 2010
This is a bit belated, as I sent all day yesterday in transit to California, but I just wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday season. I hope everyone gets to spend these days with their loved ones, doing the things they love.
I'll leave you with my favorite holiday song, Robert Earl Keen's Merry Christmas from the Family
"Hallelujah! Everybody say cheese! Merry Christmas from the family!"
Thursday, December 16, 2010
"what lasts through time is like an island on a ship in the sea, perishable surrounded by dangerous fragility by merciless waters and threats. "
The year is winding down, and there's nothing but endless celebrations in my weeks ahead. Well, and work. I'm currently packing and prepping for my holiday kick off trip to quaint little Bethlehem, PA this weekend. A good friend of mine from my time in Ireland is working for a small theater company there, so a bunch of us will be reuniting and supporting her dramatic work. It's been a long time since this crew was together in its entirety for a full weekend, so it will most definitely be memorable.
Looking forward to this event, I've been taking stock of my recent history. I've had a rough 6 months or so that at times has left me feeling disjointed and desperate, broken. Lately, I've been finding solace in all the wonderful people I am lucky enough to have in my life, like these characters I'm about to see. It's put all my recent failures in perspective. I believe there is much to be gained from broken moments, failed connections and missteps. This is how we grow and change. Happiness can only take you so far. One needs the dialectic interchange with the chaotic and painful.
So, I'm happy for all the chaos in my life, the "what ifs?", the false starts and failed promises. Pablo Neruda, in the below poem, does such an excellent job of characterizing this arbitrary chaos. There is beauty, and more importantly, possibility in those broken bits and things that just fall by the wayside. Almost on a transcendental level, he suggests the transformative power of time: the silly things that perish, the things we leave behind and what remains. I'm looking forward to seeing all my broken bits metamorphising into something new and beautiful.
Ode to Broken Things
Things get broken
like they were pushed
by an invisible, deliberate smasher.
It's not my hands
It wasn't the girls
with their hard fingernails
or the motion of the planet.
It wasn't anything or anybody
It wasn't the wind
It wasn't the orange-colored noontime
Or night over the earth
It wasn't even the nose or the elbow
Or the hips getting bigger
or the ankle
or the air.
The plate broke, the lamp fell
All the flower pots tumbled over
one by one. That pot
which overflowed with scarlet
in the middle of October,
it got tired from all the violets
and another empty one
rolled round and round and round
all through winter
until it was only the powder
of a flowerpot,
a broken memory, shining dust.
And that clock
the voice of our lives,
thread of our weeks,
one by one, so many hours
for honey and silence
for so many births and jobs,
that clock also
and its delicate blue guts
among the broken glass
its wide heart
Life goes on grinding up
glass, wearing out clothes
and what lasts through time
is like an island on a ship in the sea,
surrounded by dangerous fragility
by merciless waters and threats.
Let's put all our treasures together
-- the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold --
into a sack and carry them
to the sea
and let our possessions sink
into one alarming breaker
that sounds like a river.
May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides.
So many useless things
which nobody broke
but which got broken anyway.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The wind is blowing in DC, and the air has turned icy. I'm diggin' it! Our summer was so relentless and draining that I'm taking advantage of every icy blast, and making sure to indulge in every wintertime treat I can.
One of my favorite things in cold weather is coming home to a belly warming hot beverage. My tea corner is becoming, well, overwhelming. That's just the beginning though. I thought I'd share a couple of my favorite seasonally appropriate beverage recipes.
Peppermint Hot Cocoa
(once you see how easy it is to make our own hot cocoa, you'll never turn back)
1 tbsp. cocoa powder (Ghirardelli is my personal favorite)
2 tbsp. granulated sugar (I tend to go slightly under this)
6-8 oz. milk, preferably whole
dash vanilla extract
2-3 drops peppermint oil
This can be made on the stovetop in a saucepan or in a mug in the microwave. First mix the cocoa powder and sugar. Add just a touch of milk and combine to form a paste. Continue to gradually add the remaining milk, stirring constantly. If making on stovetop, warm on medium heat until just scalded. If using the microwave, heat in 30 second intervals, stirring in between. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla and peppermint. So easy and delicious!
Homemade Indian Spiced Chai
This recipe I adapted from the fascinating cultural history book, Curry: A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors by Lizzie Collingham. Below are my spice proportions, but you can augment to suit your own palate. I love doubling this recipe and making a big batch, so I can keep extra in a pitcher in the fridge, ready for a quick reheat when the mood strikes!
4 cups water
16 whole cardamom pods, slightly crushed
2 cinnamon sticks
1 tsp. whole black peppercorns
1 tsp. whole cloves
few slices fresh ginger
3 oz. assam or other black tea
milk and sugar to taste
Bring water to a boil. Add spices and simmer 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat. Add tea and let steep 3-5 minutes. Pour through a fine mesh sieve. Add milk and sugar to taste.
And just for good measure, here's one of my favorite seasonal songs because really, there's no better season for seduction than winter...right, Dean Martin?
Monday, December 13, 2010
I'm free! As of Saturday evening at 18:00 hours, I have submitted all my graduate school applications! This means I am free to return to the world..real and virtual.
Throughout the madness of the last few months, I had very few days of fun or interest. The most memorable had to have been film noir photoshoot night involving my friend Katie as photographer, my roommate, Jamie, as the hardboiled P.I., Katie's little sister Hope as the ingenue, and me as the femme fatale.
I've always loved the femme fatale. In the code era, her wiles were obvious and er devious deeds only hinted toward. She served as a warning to men and women alike of the danger of female cleverness and power. Despite this, they remain the most memorable and glamorous characters, perhaps even vague role models of independence and rebellion, and reminders of the historical sequestering of the fairer sex. Who hasn't want to emulate Gilda? Or Kittie Collins?
Anyway, here's our story. We had such a great time hamming it up and making up silly plots and motivations. The final product we called, "As the Cat Meows."
(apologies in advance for the long photo post, but the story deserves its full arc)
Danger! Danger! Enter the dame...
Classic emulation of Bacall/Bogart: "Got a match?"
"Who's that at the door?"
"Who cares...look at those pins!"
Enter the young contender
Interrupting the cat fight
The tables turn...
Trying to escape
The P.I. won't let them get away this time
Where did they go?
Perhaps the boiler room?
She's after me! Down this sketchy shaft
Done away with the girl. Now to sneak free...
Curses! The jewels and/or secrets are locked away and unobtainable
Caught! The shakedown
...and back to normality