Medieval History
Ok, so the kids are eating berries, and the photograph isn't from today, but "Berries and Lucidity" doesn't quite have the ring does it, and this picture would make me happy on any day: nothing like the luxury of eating berries with your back turned to the stunning backdrop of a glistening lake and rustling trees. I love kids: one intense aesthetic experience at a time. And this is what I want to struggle with a bit: I had my moment of lucidity when I was fully focused on the lamb I was cooking for dinner tonight, stopping for that first fragrant burst when the meat really starts to cook, waiting for the oregano and cinnamon to start working together without getting lost, looking after the eggplant to see how it was absorbing the flavors. All sorts of alchemy, all sorts of reactions happening right there, and each seemed more beautiful than the last. Let's be clear, it was not an epiphany (for that, I can always go to M.F.K. Fisher), it was pure, unknowing escape - thoughts and worries really falling away as the little sensual feats before me took over. (Note: the thoughts and worries are the garden variety, no worries: is ballet for Miss E tomorrow? did I schedule that meeting? when will I write that proposal? what's it all for?) I felt seriousness of purpose and clarity of thought - lucidity. But let's face it, lucidity is elusive. It comes, it goes, it shimmers on the surface of the little control we think we have.
In the Middle Ages when you were stressed out by insistent and plaguing thoughts, you went to sleep. Actually, you read a bunch of problematic books from classical antiquity, and then you fell asleep, and then you woke up in a dream allegorical landscape where lucidity is over-rated and (now that I think about it) nobody eats lamb or much of anything else. I've been thinking as much about narrative frames as narratives these days (how the frames within which we tell our stories condition those stories) and dream allegories present some pretty incredible frame. Here you're seeing the author/writer/narrator at his medieval desk (and both Mister M and I have lusted after that desk - how cool is it?) on the left (nobody knows who the onlookers are: you and me?), and the dreamer (perhaps or perhaps not at all the same person as the author/writer/narrator) in bed on the right. The image is from the incredible MS. Douce 195 copy of the the Roman de la Rose, a manuscript richly illuminated in tales of classical antiquity - those which provoke and trouble. My favorite part is the little dog, utterly alert and looking at us - hoping we'll be distracted enough to let a little piece of lamb fall.
- It's Hanukris Time: The Loaded Latke
zazzle.comIt is the moveable feasts of all moveable feasts; the festival of lights and lamb and latkes: Hanukris! Our third annual, and Rebecca and I went for it again. My images won't load, so I'm going with the witty latke mug, because'...
- A Really Nice Dream
Opening of the Roman de la Rose, MS Douce 195, late 15th c.I don't know if it's my impinging decrepitude or just too much of everything but I have been tired to the point of no longer working at night for about three weeks. Where usually...
- Environments
This will be just a short pause to revel in contrasts. I don't expect to hear from Mac as his itinerary is absolutely full (art historians are utterly brutal and heartless travel companions and want to see absolutely every stash of visual culture...
- Confer!
Wo-ha - I'm in Montréal. There's a 16th-century Conference, which is later than I'm used to, but my gal died in 1531, so fair game, yes? Everything is suspended and strange - and thus wonderful. Lots and lots of work that...
- Better
Iris's little classmate is improving daily - eyes focusing, laughter, touching his mom. He's coming back, he's going to be coming back - it will take much longer than anyone wants it to ever ever, but he's going to do it. When I...
Medieval History
Lamb and Lucidity
Ok, so the kids are eating berries, and the photograph isn't from today, but "Berries and Lucidity" doesn't quite have the ring does it, and this picture would make me happy on any day: nothing like the luxury of eating berries with your back turned to the stunning backdrop of a glistening lake and rustling trees. I love kids: one intense aesthetic experience at a time. And this is what I want to struggle with a bit: I had my moment of lucidity when I was fully focused on the lamb I was cooking for dinner tonight, stopping for that first fragrant burst when the meat really starts to cook, waiting for the oregano and cinnamon to start working together without getting lost, looking after the eggplant to see how it was absorbing the flavors. All sorts of alchemy, all sorts of reactions happening right there, and each seemed more beautiful than the last. Let's be clear, it was not an epiphany (for that, I can always go to M.F.K. Fisher), it was pure, unknowing escape - thoughts and worries really falling away as the little sensual feats before me took over. (Note: the thoughts and worries are the garden variety, no worries: is ballet for Miss E tomorrow? did I schedule that meeting? when will I write that proposal? what's it all for?) I felt seriousness of purpose and clarity of thought - lucidity. But let's face it, lucidity is elusive. It comes, it goes, it shimmers on the surface of the little control we think we have. In the Middle Ages when you were stressed out by insistent and plaguing thoughts, you went to sleep. Actually, you read a bunch of problematic books from classical antiquity, and then you fell asleep, and then you woke up in a dream allegorical landscape where lucidity is over-rated and (now that I think about it) nobody eats lamb or much of anything else. I've been thinking as much about narrative frames as narratives these days (how the frames within which we tell our stories condition those stories) and dream allegories present some pretty incredible frame. Here you're seeing the author/writer/narrator at his medieval desk (and both Mister M and I have lusted after that desk - how cool is it?) on the left (nobody knows who the onlookers are: you and me?), and the dreamer (perhaps or perhaps not at all the same person as the author/writer/narrator) in bed on the right. The image is from the incredible MS. Douce 195 copy of the the Roman de la Rose, a manuscript richly illuminated in tales of classical antiquity - those which provoke and trouble. My favorite part is the little dog, utterly alert and looking at us - hoping we'll be distracted enough to let a little piece of lamb fall.
- It's Hanukris Time: The Loaded Latke
zazzle.comIt is the moveable feasts of all moveable feasts; the festival of lights and lamb and latkes: Hanukris! Our third annual, and Rebecca and I went for it again. My images won't load, so I'm going with the witty latke mug, because'...
- A Really Nice Dream
Opening of the Roman de la Rose, MS Douce 195, late 15th c.I don't know if it's my impinging decrepitude or just too much of everything but I have been tired to the point of no longer working at night for about three weeks. Where usually...
- Environments
This will be just a short pause to revel in contrasts. I don't expect to hear from Mac as his itinerary is absolutely full (art historians are utterly brutal and heartless travel companions and want to see absolutely every stash of visual culture...
- Confer!
Wo-ha - I'm in Montréal. There's a 16th-century Conference, which is later than I'm used to, but my gal died in 1531, so fair game, yes? Everything is suspended and strange - and thus wonderful. Lots and lots of work that...
- Better
Iris's little classmate is improving daily - eyes focusing, laughter, touching his mom. He's coming back, he's going to be coming back - it will take much longer than anyone wants it to ever ever, but he's going to do it. When I...