3rd House Journal

Mother's Day

I have a snapshot of my mother that I culled from the piles I sorted when I put together an album for the memorial service last November. I'm lying on the living room rug with my legs up on the coffee table and my mother is sitting on the couch with her stockinged feet on the same table (very formal household I grew up in). By the big orange flower print of the couch and the enormity of my mother's then-stylish glasses, it must be the 1970s (late '70s by my short haircut - I must be in college). She's about to sew a button or a hem, an invisible thread taut between her pinched fingers. She's laughing, head thrown off to the side not back, as someone must have said something ridiculous, probably with the specific intention of making her laugh. It was always rewarding to make my mother laugh, not because it was hard but because it was easy.

Happy Mother's Day to everyone out there celebrating today. Eat your vegetables, say 'please' and 'thank you,' put that thing down before you poke somebody's eye out, and call your mother.

[Lily-of-the-valley, or muguet; 1:30pm, 5/10/08]

In Paris last year, on May 1st, everyone was carrying sprigs of muguet for the Labor Day holiday. The fragrant flower is the flower of spring, and among other things it signifies renewed happiness. Yesterday it was rampant on roadsides and in the woods at the wildlife sanctuary.

Tulips, two eyes, a pair of ears

[Tulips, Benton Branch Library, Belmont; 2pm, 5/4/08]

The Benton Branch of the Belmont Public Library is open Wednesday afternoons from 1 to 6pm. That's it. It's a tiny building, and I've yet to go inside (those 5 hours are a small window to hit). But it's an interesting looking old building, and just up the road from my apartment. The town's main library is directly across the street from where I work, with an impressive offering of books, audiobooks, music, and videos to borrow. I haven't been a library-goer in many years. When I was a kid -- all the way up through high school -- almost all of our books, other than textbooks, were borrowed from the city library (this was long before the era of cheap paperbacks and the ease of buying books online). I remember the "bookmobile" that came around to the neighborhood when I was very young. I'd climb up into it and find books on the lower shelves slotted for my reading grade. The lending card would be pulled out from inside the cellophaned front cover and I'd check it out and bring it back when the bookmobile returned the following week.

For taking care of Ingrid for a week+ (and the guinea pig for a couple of days), K gave me a gift certificate at Amazon, so I bought a Creative Zen portable media player to listen to audiobooks on, as well as music, etc. I needed one compatible with the DRM audiobook format, plus with bookmarking capability so when I shut down I can come back to where I left off (apparently not a common tool on MP3 players). It hasn't arrived yet, but I'm looking forward to it. My eyes get tired by the end of the day from staring at a computer screen and textbooks and journal articles. So I'm hoping to plug in some audiobooks and rest my eyes while still accessing some good books. My library is part of a network of libraries, with a large online storehouse of audio files I can download for free. I also recently reserved a copy of El so del membrillo from the library network, the movie about Antonio López García, whose work I saw at the MFA last Friday. I think I'm going to become a library-goer again.

Out of the woods

The long weekend went by fast, but was satisfying, despite persistently damp, chilly weather. It drizzled on our group walk Saturday morning, which turned out a sizable number of people anyway. E, an Englishwoman who is a regular and a neighbor of mine, said it reminded her of home. I took Ingrid out on a couple of neighborhood walks, admiring the profusion of spring flowers bright with raindrops - tulips, hyacinth, pansies, bleeding hearts, violets, drooping white bell flowers. And yesterday afternoon I drove over to Cambridge to meet up with my movie group to see The Visitor, which was unanimously liked. Both groups were very enjoyable company this weekend, and I drove home last night from the post-movie dinner feeling sated and lucky again to be here.

Today, of course, the weekend being over, the weather broke -- the sun came out and it was one of our rare not-too-hot, not-too-cold spring days. I walked up to the wildlife sanctuary at lunchtime and saw that the greenery is beginning to fill in. Even the stragglers have buds. Among the green spreading over the forest floor were sprinkles of small white flowers I think are wood anemones. Out in the meadow, atop a bird house, a female Eastern bluebird warbled out a pretty song, looking to attract a mate. And in the sanctuary's community garden, a female cardinal whistled and trilled her own.

Repetition and reflection

[Josiah McElheney's Endlessly Repeating Twentieth-Century Modernism]

I went to the MFA-Boston on Friday to see the El Greco to Velasquez exhibit (see Boston Globe review here) along with another exhibit of work by the contemporary Spanish artist, Antonio López García. The El Greco, etc. was interesting, although not my favorite period for art. A sizable portion of it was, of course, heavily religious, reflecting the intense Catholicism of the time. It tapped a vague memory of devoted Catholicism from my childhood, a relic without much current, but still curious. The López García was certainly a contrast -- devoted to, or perhaps obsessed with, commonplace scenes of refrigerators, dirty studios and stained bathrooms, and huge flat vistas of Madrid seen from rooftops, rather charmlessly sprawling like Los Angeles towards distant hills. I did like his giant bronze Buddha-like baby heads -- "Day and Night" -- positioned on either side of the museum's Huntington Street entrance.

[López García's "Night" baby head, with crabapple blossoms; 5/2/08]

I also liked Josiah McElheny's Endlessly Repeating Twentieth-Century Modernism installation (see photo above) in the West Wing's lower galleria near the café. There's an interesting interview with McElheny here, on repetition and seamless interconnectedness, its beauty and its horror, the modern ideal of self-reflection (the "examined life") and its narcissism. McElheny says that the subject of much of his work is "a utopia that falls apart." Maybe that's why I liked it -- as I mentioned before, I seem to be drawn to the juxtaposition of "perfect symmetry, and its anarchic spoiling." My eye is caught by rhythmic patterns and then the joy of breaks and variations in that repetition, like jazz. While stopping in the gift shop, we noticed a display table with eye-catching repetitive images on books and things from another exhibit at the MFA, Rhythms of Modern Life: British Prints 1914-1939. So after refueling in the cafeteria, we went to have a look.

Although there were many works with sober themes of war and of the mechanization of the Industrial era, there were also many beautiful playful works -- lots of repetitive lines of speed and motion, hand-printed in gorgeous colors on fine translucent Japanese paper. I bought a postcard of Cyril E. Power's The Eight (at left), which reminded me of standing on a bridge over the Charles watching crew boats racing below. (The museum was smart -- they also printed the image on piles of crisp white t-shirts.) You can read a nice article at Art Knowledge News on the exhibit.

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My Flickr set on my MFA visit is here. And you can see Lorianne's account at her blog and her Flickr set of the baby heads here (where I found out the actual title of the López García baby heads as well as what kind of flower petals were falling, having neglected to ascertain either when I was there -- I suspect part of my attraction to the repetitious that day was a bit of insomnia-induced autism).

[Crosswalk on Huntington Avenue; 2:45pm, 5/2/08]

 

Spent, and gathering

[Magnolia petals; 7:15pm, 7/29/08]

Another busy work day. Just one more left this week since I'm taking Friday off, comp time. I could use more, but there are deadlines and also an uncertain apartment move schedule this summer, so I've been holding onto my vacation allotment to spend on packing and moving, as well as time to visit my dad. Still, a three-day weekend is something to look forward to.

Meanwhile, I've been reminded of how much the habit of walking around with a camera has changed my life... what I notice when I'm out and about, even with no camera in hand... the changing sky, reflected light on distant buildings, a flash of flitting wings, detritus of human existence, surprises of everyday things, connections made, and lost. It influences what I choose to do with my spare time, craving and searching for beauty in many forms, delicate or harsh, natural or urban... what I notice of composition in film, and scenes that play through my dreams. I run late, caught and absorbed, lose track of what people are saying, my chattering mind stops, in fascination or inconsequence.

[Corner of Common St., Belmont; 7pm, 4/29/08]

Spring at the Arnold Arboretum

[Lilac buds, Arnold Arboretum, Boston; 5pm, 4/27/08]

Tiny-fisted magenta buds, felted finger-puppet shoots, siren-blossoms splayed, seeds blown like kisses, blooms profuse as hippy hair, pink Afros, alien life forms, green seed-pod leis, twisted roots, mulberry gnarls, pears that are really roses, confetti grown out of the ground, a road curled on a meadow, and dogwoods and cherries admiring themselves in a glassy pond.

Photo set from yesterday afternoon at the Arnold Arboretum in Boston.

[Meadow Road, Arnold Arboretum]

(Over)Abundance

[A neighbor's magnolia blossoms; 5:45pm, 4/24/08; click for larger]

Busy week. Work did slow a bit early- to mid-week, but ended with a flat-out Friday. I did make it out to dinner after work with friends at MuLan - a wonderful Taiwanese restaurant in Kendall Square. A bit of a hole-in-the wall, cheap, and fabulous food. By the time we were done, the late movie was looking too late after a tiring day and a full (and very happy) stomach, so I drove home. Wednesday night I went to the opening of the International Film Festival-Boston, at which I saw the Brad Anderson thriller 'Transsiberian' with Woody Harrelson and Emily Mortimer, along with Sir Ben Kingsley, who was on-hand with Anderson for the after-move Q&A (I only stayed for a bit of that, too, as it was quite late). I enjoyed the movie very much, although I have to admit I rather stupidly had thought it was set it Spain, as in 'Trans-Iberian' and so I was disappointed to find all that snow (well, it was made with the help of a Barcelona film company and featured a Spanish actor as one of the leads...). Sigh.

The weather this week was superb. Wednesday, when I went to the film festival, it was actually hot - 80 degrees F. The rest of the week wasn't quite so warm, but still sunny and beautiful. All the trees in Boston have set to bloom all at once. Weeping cherry and Japanese red maples, magnolias and dogwoods. Yesterday, red and yellow tulips opened up in astonishing numbers everywhere. I will have to try to get out tomorrow to take some photos while it all lasts. I did go on a walk today to the Boston Nature Center, which was fun. The woods, of course, are well behind the flowering of the cultivated trees and plants. But thing are budding effusively in the woods, and after I got home today I took Ingrid over to the Habitat Wildlife Sanctuary here in Belmont for a quick walk, adding a few photos to my Spring in Belmont Flickr set.

[Budding tree, Habitat Wildlife Sanctuary; 3pm, 4/26/08]

Off to another film fest movie tonight, so have to grab some supper and get ready...Well, never mind.

Earth Day

[View from the porch; 6:30pm, 4/22/08; click to view larger]

[Under a neighbor's shrubs, a lily; 12:45pm, 4/22/08]

You can see a handful more signs of spring in my neighborhood here.

Narcissus

[Daffodils (genus: Narcissus) in Belmont; 11:30am, 4/20/08]

[Payson Park Reservoir, Payson St. entrance]

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I enjoyed the Flight of the Red Balloon this afternoon, and we had a nice discussion afterwards. Besides the rambling story that had no real plot but was more like eavesdropping on your interesting neighbor's lives and trying to figure out exactly what's going on, I enjoyed the Parisian scenes: the cafés, narrow streets, the cramped apartment!, the art, the puppetry, the fact that a brief scene of business was necessarily accompanied by a bottle of wine. Also, we all came out of the movie hungry for crepes. The shots were beautifully composed, and piano music subtly well-placed - pleasures  you have time to notice since the film is decidedly unhurried. Juliette Binoche is wonderful, the child playing her son natural and "gentle," as he is described by another character, and his new Chinese nanny, Song, a quiet counterpart to Binoche's distracted and hurting mother.

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Peter at Slow Reads recently reminded me that there is a red balloon in my poem, Red Umbrella, written in 2005 when I had time to write poetry. Sigh. Anyway, thought I'd link to that here as well, even though it makes me sad.

R&R

Nursing tendonitis in my foot, not to mention overused brain cells in my head, I planned to spend most of this beautiful spring day on the porch with my feet up. K is out of town, so it's just me and Ingrid. But I'm not very good at doing nothing. Still, I stayed home and did girly things like touched up my gray roots washed my hair, waxed my legs (almost shorts weather!), and gave myself a pedicure (sandals weather!) - the latter of the three while ensconced on the aforementioned porch destination. I also iced my foot while out there, talked to my dad on the phone, and briefly attempted to read. What I did not do is work. Though I could have. My boss actually called me at around 4 on Friday and offered comp time if I felt I wanted to work this weekend to get things done. I told her I was utterly exhausted. Which was utterly true.

I did get out to the movies this afternoon with C (whose spanking new doctorate and new job were celebrated last night after I got out of work). We saw a piece of French fluff called Priceless ('Hors de prix'). On the way to the movie theater, I drove along Storrow Drive, appreciating the cherry trees in bloom on the Esplanade and all the white sails bobbing on the Charles River. I thought, I live here! I wanted to pinch myself.

No walks this weekend, alas, but I do have another movie to see: Voyage du ballon rouge, an homage to the original short film made in 1956. I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I rented the original a few weeks ago. Now I'll see the new one, which has had great reviews. Looking forward to it. Meanwhile, the Red Sox are on TV and I'm on the couch with my laptop, foot on ice. (Yikes! Manny just smoked one right out of the park to put the Sox ahead in the 8th. The home crowd is happy. Just 6 1/2 miles from here...)

Spring in the neighborhood

[Scilla, forsythia, and daffodils; 7pm, 4/15/08]

I was in Grafton for so long, I knew just where I'd see the first forsythia, and the magnolias, dogwoods, and weeping cherries in spring bloom. Now, here in Belmont, it's all a surprise waiting to be discovered.

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Meanwhile, work has been insane. Every day lately, it's writing for 8 or more hours almost nonstop. Which doesn't allow for much perspective and the sense of doing a thorough, thoughtful job. Sigh. (Nor, I might add, does it leave any mental bandwidth for writing here or reading/commenting elsewhere.)

Nahant

[Beach at Nahant, MA; 11am, 04/13/08; click to view larger]

Nahant is a tombolo, that is, a rocky spit, a pennisula (nahant means "almost an island") in Massachusetts Bay north of Boston. Besides this flat sand beach, we walked some lovely streets there this morning, admiring the houses, noting the magnolia and forsythia buds awaiting just one or two more warm days, and taking in views out to sea, up the North Shore, and back toward Boston. The skies were densely overcast, but the rain held off until just at the end of our walk, hastening our pace toward the venerable Tides Restaurant overlooking Nahant Beach.

I had a busy weekend -- after the movie (a new print of Godard's "Contempt") and discussion yesterday afternoon, I went out with friends to hear live jazz and eat more food last night and I got in late. I woke up too early this morning and couldn't get back to sleep, so off to Nahant on about 5 hours' sleep, and not back until late this afternoon. So it may be quiet here this week. But I'm hearing good weather forecasts. Could be enough to burst open a few patient buds.