Thoughts in Random Patterns

Not Funny

And maybe I'm just getting old and cranky, but I didn't think The 40 Year Old Virgin was funny at all, even though lots of friends said it was, and it got generally good reviews.  Brad and I only watched about 20 minutes before giving up.  As much as I often get tired of how women are portrayed in movies and beer commercials, I get tired of how men are portrayed, too -- as sex-crazed perpetual adolescents who are completely vulnerable to peer pressure and willing to run down streets chasing beer trucks.  Maybe the men I know are just putting on a good front and either I don't see that side of them or they're really not so testosterone-poisoned and simplistic.  I'd rather watch The Sopranos or 24 for representations of men..

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Although I don't eat corned beef, or cabbage, and am emphatically not Catholic, I did wear green today in honor of  St. Patrick.

And it's the birthday of my father-in-law, Stanley Feld, and of Dave Jilk -- Happy Birthday!

Iditarod

One of the great Alaskan adventures is happening now -- the Iditarod sled dog race is more than 1,000 miles long, crossing the Alaska Range and ending in Nome.  Here's the official Iditarod website and an Iditablog, too, as well as the Anchorage Daily News coverage.  I've been to Nome when I was in the Arctic Chamber Orchestra in high school, and have a snapshot of the burled arch that forms the finish line of the race and some of the frozen Bering Sea.  Most of the time it seems like growing up in Alaska was much like growing up anywhere else, and then I look at the current weather forecast for Fairbanks and think perhaps it was slightly different.  I certainly remember going to lots of sled dog races.  Don't you??

March 15th

And today is the Ides of March.  If your name is Caesar and you have a friend named Brutus, maybe don't let him stand near to you today..

Scribbles: Cy Twombly

Last night, after a full day of writing work at my Spruce Street office with Brad, I was tired in that good way you get after really concentrated work.  We watched the first episode of the final season of The Sopranos.  After such a long hiatus between episodes, I had forgotten both how violent it is, and how sad.  Then we turned OFF the television and read books.  What a revolutionary concept!  I took one of the big art monographs off the top of one of several Unread Books piles on the coffee table and got lost in the world of Cy Twombly, who is one of my very favorite artists.  He has used similar motifs of writing and scribbles and letters and fragments of words throughout his long working life.  I like art that includes text and words and have been fortunate enough to see Twombly's work in person in San Francisco and New York.  After a long day of writing by hand and typing, it was very restorative to slowly savor books of creative art that incorporates myth and language, too.

39 1/2

Today is my 39 1/2 birthday.  I'm celebrating by spending the day in my Spruce Street writing office, working on The North Side of Trees.  That's the short version of a funny tale that involves Carribbean islands and apple orchards and boundaries.  In a long, far flung conversation over afternoon tea in Boston last October with Pamela Daniels, (who I am still stunned to have been fortunate enough to have as my college dean lo these many years ago), she asked me what I needed to be able to finish writing my book and I answered that I thought I needed to go away from my daily life for 6 weeks and leave obligation behind. 

I considered 3 different geographies:  a farm in north Texas belonging to my in-laws, a bed and breakfast in an apple orchard in western Colorado belonging to an extra-extended family member, and an oceanside house in the Bahamas belonging to a longtime Boulder friend, and eventually made all the arrangements to go stay in the Carribbean for 6 weeks, starting last Sunday, March 12th.  Toward the end of the week, Brad developed a bad cold (thought he might have strep throat, but didn't) and didn't want to fly all day on Sunday for fear his head might explode, so we delayed our departure date until today -- and I noticed myself feeling relieved about being home the extra couple of days and thinking that I didn't really want to go -- so we didn't.  Many big thanks to my friend Lindsey for offering her home as my writing place, and then for being her usual Buddhist calm and flexible self about me changing my mind!

I looked at all the great things about living here in Boulder, including my incredible husband, house, dogs, friends, family, landscape, town, bookstore, and my very own writing sanctuary full of books and music and calm and thought that I really need to figure out a way to do my work here, where my life is -- so I'm going to do that for the next 6 weeks instead of taking a geographical cure.  I'm going to hibernate and let my obligations fend for themselves and just focus on doing my writing work.  My desk at home is already mostly buried in the daily papers of life, and I'm just going to let things keep piling up around me as I plow ahead toward finishing the first draft of this book.  I'm going away from my daily life, but I'm staying here in Boulder..