'Rocktober' is what Rockies fans are calling it these days
I know that I rarely (if ever) have contributed to this blog, but I wanted to say hello and let you guys know that I check in and read it from time to time. It's comforting to read, to try and imagine you in your places. ...and then to be in awe of the distance or the closeness to where I am, too. To have the smallest thread of connection to you sometimes feels monumentally good.
Reading about fall just now from you, Nikko, was so relevant to how I'm feeling these days. It feels that the longer I live in California, the more sensitive I am to the shift in seasons, which is such a smooth transition until you can recognize the subtlety. That said, this year fall feels powerful, like it has permeated everything. All of the air is October air, and all I can think about is baking with squash and running through brisk wind. On Friday I went through the corn maze out in Livermore, which turned out to be hilariously fun and felt entirely autumn. But, I find that fall is also the time when I look back at the last year. Maybe it's the Jew in me, considering Rosh Hashanah, but nostalgia is always heightened in fall. I'm dumbfounded at the amount of events that took place over the course of this year. I keep finding myself thinking, "that happened this year?" Even though I can remember last October like it was a couple of hours ago, the volume of happenings in between then and now seems impossibly big.
Along the same vein of nostalgia (perhaps an obsession of mine), I am in the process of writing the invite to my next collaborative book and I hope you will take part.
It is called The Book of Objects (a working title, anyway) and will be filled with people's objects. I'm hoping to focus on inanimate things that people have some kind of relationship with. I realized that my last book was sort of a practice run, there were things about it that were definitely lacking, an introduction for one. I wish that I could find someone else to write the intro, because my writing is embarrassingly bad, but I'd have to convey the theme first, and decide how I want to integrate the Barthes reading I've returned to for this subject. Camera Lucida brings up so so many excellent points for this project. I want to discuss what we really see in an object, how it is never really the object itself. Of course Barthes is discussing photography, but the photograph as an object is almost the epitome of this idea.
Other things in my life are quite the same. Still at bookmaking job (although this is an ever-changing, fascinating place to work as I get to see first-hand the struggles and shifts, decisions, processes of a small start-up business) which is invaluable. I don't know that I can say that I stand behind everything we make 100%, but to be a part of something like this is exciting and interesting. The learning curve is so unlike any other job I've had, it's almost irrelevant. Anecdote: We made a rush-job run of 50 books for a company called Florida Light and Power two weeks ago, which had an energy meeting with Obama and Clinton few days later. Now Bill and Barack each have a copy of our book.
My apartment is my sanctuary. I totally lucked out in having wonderful neighbors across the hall who I'm getting to know (Sean and Rebecca, CCA people). Living alone is a dream come true, aside from missing R every day. I see him (in fact, went to an group opening/auction of his last night in SF) and then miss him more. That's the summary.
Oh, and have started a new blog (http://patternshare.blogspot.com) of patterns. I want people to be able to post found or homemade or interesting patterns whenever.
Things I'm listening to are musicals, same old, so I'll leave you with films instead:
Short films by Peter Greenaway (including H is for House and Windows)
Remains of the Day- James Ivory
The Ring Finger- Diane Bertrand
The Pillow Book (also Peter Greenaway)
Reading about fall just now from you, Nikko, was so relevant to how I'm feeling these days. It feels that the longer I live in California, the more sensitive I am to the shift in seasons, which is such a smooth transition until you can recognize the subtlety. That said, this year fall feels powerful, like it has permeated everything. All of the air is October air, and all I can think about is baking with squash and running through brisk wind. On Friday I went through the corn maze out in Livermore, which turned out to be hilariously fun and felt entirely autumn. But, I find that fall is also the time when I look back at the last year. Maybe it's the Jew in me, considering Rosh Hashanah, but nostalgia is always heightened in fall. I'm dumbfounded at the amount of events that took place over the course of this year. I keep finding myself thinking, "that happened this year?" Even though I can remember last October like it was a couple of hours ago, the volume of happenings in between then and now seems impossibly big.
Along the same vein of nostalgia (perhaps an obsession of mine), I am in the process of writing the invite to my next collaborative book and I hope you will take part.
It is called The Book of Objects (a working title, anyway) and will be filled with people's objects. I'm hoping to focus on inanimate things that people have some kind of relationship with. I realized that my last book was sort of a practice run, there were things about it that were definitely lacking, an introduction for one. I wish that I could find someone else to write the intro, because my writing is embarrassingly bad, but I'd have to convey the theme first, and decide how I want to integrate the Barthes reading I've returned to for this subject. Camera Lucida brings up so so many excellent points for this project. I want to discuss what we really see in an object, how it is never really the object itself. Of course Barthes is discussing photography, but the photograph as an object is almost the epitome of this idea.
Other things in my life are quite the same. Still at bookmaking job (although this is an ever-changing, fascinating place to work as I get to see first-hand the struggles and shifts, decisions, processes of a small start-up business) which is invaluable. I don't know that I can say that I stand behind everything we make 100%, but to be a part of something like this is exciting and interesting. The learning curve is so unlike any other job I've had, it's almost irrelevant. Anecdote: We made a rush-job run of 50 books for a company called Florida Light and Power two weeks ago, which had an energy meeting with Obama and Clinton few days later. Now Bill and Barack each have a copy of our book.
My apartment is my sanctuary. I totally lucked out in having wonderful neighbors across the hall who I'm getting to know (Sean and Rebecca, CCA people). Living alone is a dream come true, aside from missing R every day. I see him (in fact, went to an group opening/auction of his last night in SF) and then miss him more. That's the summary.
Oh, and have started a new blog (http://patternshare.blogspot.com) of patterns. I want people to be able to post found or homemade or interesting patterns whenever.
Things I'm listening to are musicals, same old, so I'll leave you with films instead:
Short films by Peter Greenaway (including H is for House and Windows)
Remains of the Day- James Ivory
The Ring Finger- Diane Bertrand
The Pillow Book (also Peter Greenaway)
posted by darinag | 10:13 AM
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