We kicked off the weekend on Friday evening with a photo shoot. Todd Pellowe took some photographs of me at a marina for Paper Boat Photography. I was super nervous to be on the other side of the camera. When I am nervous, I talk.
A lot.
Sorry about that Todd.

It was lots of fun and I have a new appreciation for what my clients must feel like on the other side of the lens. He did a great job. If you haven’t before, check out Todd’s work. In this business, you see all kinds of wedding photography. Todd’s is all class with none of the pretension. His images are like a crisp white Brooks Brothers shirt, but with the sleeves rolled up. Timeless, genuine, clean, real images of those important moments.

Afterward, I dashed back downtown to The Brown Hotel {it’s lovely and the hotel where they filmed Elizabethtown} to pick up my husband. We went to dinner at Jack Fry’s. So good. It’s Manhattan-esque, but better because it’s Southern {i.e. hospitality + butter = better}.

Saturday morning, we enjoyed some North African food at Ramsi’s Cafe on The World, and then settled in to quality browsing in Carmichael’s Bookstore next door. They have an awesome selection, friendly staff and pretty amazing coffee {See, iphone pics above}. I love their matchbooks with book covers printed on them. Me and the guy who works there agreed that they are ridiculously cute. Moleskin now makes notebooks in my colors. Very cool. I found books I didn’t buy, but photographed to remember for later.

I did pick up a copy of Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West translated by Daniel Ladinsky. It is gorgeous. I can’t choose a favorite, but here’s a sample poem translated from Meister Eckhart:

An Image That Makes Them Sad

How long will grown men and women in this world
keep drawing in their coloring books
an image of God that
makes them
sad?

We started shooting at 21C Museum Hotel Saturday afternoon. We’ve stayed there before, but it is more fun each time we go.   It really is completely unique. If you’re in town, check it out. We got back to Lexington after midnight and started shooting at 7:30 a.m., Sunday morning, so it was a quick trip to the ‘ville, but one we’ll always remember.

LOVE this post from Simply Lovely about her vacation. She makes a list of highlights from her beach week. My favorite, “Replacing work shoes with flip flops, TV with books and our car with bikes.” -Joslyn of Simply Lovely. Go check her out, with tea of course.

Day No. 1.

Drinking: Yogi Goji Berry Energy Green Tea

Listening to: Don’t Rain On My Parade

Today’s tea for thought comes from NPR.

This week, Robert Siegel interviewed Walter Kirn, the author of the novel Up In The Air that inspired the new Clooney film of the same name. You can listen to the interview by clicking the above link. What interested me most was Kirn’s articulate explanation of why the movie is never the same and how film adaptations are such different medium than novels. He explains:

KIRN (Author, “Up in the Air“): There are two different forms of storytelling: Novels tend to come from the inside of a character and movies tend to look at them from the outside in relation to others in their world.

Later in the interview, he explains it in a different way, but I love this, too. He says:

KIRN: You know, here’s how adaptation works – almost everything in the movie is in the book in some form. But it’s as though the deck has been completely reshuffled and some of the cards have been assigned different values, some of the fours have been made into jacks and some of the jacks have been made into twos. And it’s as though, you know, a new poker hand has been made out of these cards that were dealt in the book.

And yet the book and the movie to me are both obviously members of the same family. They’re like non-identical twins. You see the nose. You see the ears. You see the stature and the voice in the way of moving, and you go, yes, these are the same creature in some respect, but they are two different versions of the creature.

A real master of the metaphor, that guy. It makes me want to read his writing. He has written 7 novels and a memoir called Lost In Meritocracy {reviewed here in the New York Times} about his school days.

Here’s one of his essays about a road trip in Outside Magazine that I include here mostly for my friends Steve & Jill. If you haven’t already, check out their adventures which, most recently, have led them to New Zealand.

Speaking of books, anyone ever read Nevil Shute? If you are a fan, Vintage Classics has re-released several of his novels with these amazing graphic covers. I’ve never read him, but after seeing them on Eric Forbes’s Book Addict’s Guide a while back, I’m intrigued. They are available for sale here.

Happy new reading!

I just finished this novel The Highest Tide. It’s a lovely, quick read if you are craving salt water like I am. I tend to read about winter in the summer, the summer in the winter.

Love this portion of an e.e. cummings poem
Days of Innocence section 5:

“maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.”

Postcard: October 18/01, NYC

On the subway an old

Polish man takes me in charge,

rides two stops past his own

to make certain I find

the right place to get off. When I try

to thank him, he shakes his head

no, forget it. No one, he says,

should be lost when someone else

knows the way.

-Samuel Green

Thanks so much Ami!

***

And, since it is the weekend, I thought I would share this post from Purl and A Bee featuring the book Weekend Sewing.

I love everything about the post and the featured photos. Must check out this book!

***

Our sump pump gave up on us and thank heaven for good plumbers. I’ve discovered lots of long lost things {as you do when there is a flood} but mostly they are things that I can let go of to make room for new ideas in my life. I’m realizing the only things I really want to keep are quilts, photographs, books and letters. I can replace the vacuum cleaner, but not the letters between my husband and me or photographs of people I can’t call anymore.

***

I’ve had more inquiries than normal for my little photography shop that could which is exciting. I’m relieved to know that even in hard times, people still want to take in and preserve moments from their present lives.

***

Our girl fell asleep in her big girl bed all by herself last night. Normally I lay down with her until she falls asleep. {I know, I know.} It was something we’ve talked about for months. I told her she would know when she was ready and, much like a year ago when she decided to give up her pacifiers, last night she decided she was ready. We tucked her in and she was all giggly with “the friends” comprised of Bear, a baby doll, Curious George, and a small lamb. I’m sure the promise of the Ariel Bath toy she spotted the other day was a great motivator. As we listened for her in our room, I thought about what it sounded like as I fell asleep as a child. I remember blue light from the television down that hall. I remember hearing The Tonight Show theme song and the occasional laugh from one of my parents. I wonder what she will remember: soft yellow reading light, typing keys or turning pages or none of that at all.

***

I’m teaching myself how to use Photoshop. Wow. So much to learn. I’ve put it off for so long thinking that I would rather focus on making each photograph better on its own to limit editing time, but I want to stay in the curve with the industry and see what is out there. I’m loving being able to write on photos. Very cool.

***

We are getting excited about a trip to see my parents by the sea. I can almost smell the salty air, a welcomed change from this:

***
My husband gets credit for telling me about Andrew Bird years ago. The embedded version below of his song Lull has been in my head for about two weeks now. It just keeps coming back. The video is odd, but interesting. He performed a different version of this song here in Lexington at Woodsongs and you can see that performance here. It’s amazing to see how he puts it all together and how it must sound inside his head. I wrote this post listening to it.

Lull- by Andrew Byrd

Being alone, it can be quite romantic
Like Jacques Cousteau underneath the Atlantic
A fantastic voyage to parts unknown
Going to depths where the sun’s never shone
And I fascinate myself when I’m alone

So I go a little overboard, but hang on to the hull
While I’m airbrushing fantasy art on a life
That’s really kind of dull
Oh, I’m in a lull

I’m all for moderation, but sometimes it seems
Moderation itself can be a kind of extreme
So I joined the congregation
I joined the softball team
I went in for my confirmation
Where incense looks like steam
I start conjugating proverbs
Where once there were nouns
This whole damn rhyme scheme’s
Starting to get me down

Oh, I’m in a lull
I’m in a lull

Being alone, it can be quite romantic
Like Jacques Cousteau underneath the Atlantic
A fantastic voyage to parts unknown
Going to depths where the sun’s never shone
And I fascinate myself, sure I do
When I’m alone

I’m rambling on rather self-consciously
While I’m stirring these condiments into my tea
And I think I’m so lame, I bet I think this song’s about me
Don’t I, don’t I, don’t I?

I’m in a lull…

***

Sorry for the scattered post. I am so behind. Hope everyone is having a restful weekend.

Here are a few suggestions for your getaway:

I’ve been on the road a lot lately for work. My beautiful husband made me a mix that I first listened to at 6 a.m. on the way across the state. The first song, To The Stars, is from this album which everyone needs. The orchestration is amazing and the lyrics are like the most genuine love letter.
“Oh my darlin’
Dear I love you to the stars
love you from my heart”
click here to listen or buy.

I just read the new David Sedaris short story collection, When You Are Engulfed In Flames and though there are a few gems (particularly the first story “It’s Catching” which made me laugh out loud) many of the stories chronicle awkward moments in travel that lack the depth in personal relationships that set his other work apart. It is worth reading, but if you have to choose just one, pick up his book Dress Your Family In Corduroy & Denim for the beach. A bonus is that you can probably find it on your bookseller’s bargain table now.

I picked up these super comfy flip flops that don’t hurt your arches.

And, no kidding, I found the most beautiful, fluffy beach towels at Marshalls on the cheap.

Before we left, I downloaded a couple of Yo Gabba Gabba and Backyardigans episodes for the video ipod which was a lifesaver during long waits at restaurants and during travel. It’s a lot less cumbersome than the portable DVD player. Also, several PBS shows like Super Y are free podcasts. Check them out on itunes.

I hope you have a vacation scheduled soon, even if it’s only to the backyard.

There are so few consecutive blank days on the calendar this summer, that I’m desperate to find a break in the work. We’ve looked at places close by and places far and I’m still coming up with not enough of something to make it happen. I’ll keep looking.

Where ever it is, I hope it will be a new adventure, have salty air, a little bookstore, sandy paths and time to read, and carve out a space for just us.

In the meantime, maybe I will plot these imaginary vacations on the calendar and during those weeks, eat food that would be local to that area, play music from the region.

Where are you going this summer?

You can listen to him read it here. I love the quietness of the poem, like the gorgeous camera work in Snow Falling on Cedars of melting water droplets from leaves and pine needles.

We heard Longley read this poem in Sligo on his 64th birthday. The next day he gave an interview and talked about how his writing is changing as he ages:

“…I’m interested in getting simpler. I think that’s the real challenge: to be polite and graceful and simple. The drift is towards being less and less “artistic” and simpler, and rising to, you know, the directness of the late self-portraits of Rembrandt or the last string quartets of Beethoven. I don’t mean to say they aren’t complex, in their conception and execution, but the effect is direct and simple.”

This poem is great too about a family retreat home. “Home is a hollow between the waves…” is my favorite part.

This year, inspired by the painting-a-day painters, I will be posting more frequently and daily when possible. As WH Auden once said, “I write so that I know what I think.” That is certainly true for me. But beyond that, I hope that this year, Teaworthy continues to be a place worthy of your time and relevant to your experience.

In December, my daughter and I spent an afternoon in Chicago’s Shedd Aquarium. I was so moved by all of the parents there, like me, juggling children, snacks, cameras, coats and strollers. We all helped each other by holding doors, picking up a dropped blankie, and navigating strollers into elevators.

It was just one of those times in my short tenure as a parent when I looked around and felt like I had everything in common with everyone there. We all were there just trying to have a good day with our kids, make something magical for them, and a memory for us to have long after they have outgrown needing wipes for sticky hands.

Part of me wanted to be a family photographer for each person there: for the parent who can’t see how they look carrying their sleepy toddler on their shoulder, facing a wall of blue water with waves of light passing over their faces each time the sea turtle swam past. I wanted to write it down for them, for me, for all of us, or film it at least. There’s an Indigo Girls song about those moments though when you can’t. “Don’t write it down. Don’t take a picture. Remember this in your heart. ” I think about that a lot.

A few days ago, I saw John Grisham on Charlie Rose and he said that when he writes, he doesn’t think about the critics. He thinks about the fan who buys his book the day it comes out. He wants his readers to be so absorbed with the novel that they, “stay up late and call in sick to work” just so they can keep reading.

I write here in this place with you and days like that at the aquarium in mind: the universality of human experience. I hope this is a place you stop in with your coffee or tea where you can read something that makes you feel that we are all in this together.

—-

And speaking of Audience, I get such a kick out of Nick Hornby and love what he wrote here about his readers. Enjoy:

From Nick Hornby, The Polysyllabic Spree, October 2003, p. 21-22:

“If you write books -or a certain kind of book, anyway- you can’t resist a scan round the hotel swimming pool when you go on holiday. You just can’t help yourself, despite the odds: you need to know, straight off, whether anyone is reading one of yours.

You imagine spending your days transfixed and humbled, as a beautiful and intelligent young man or woman, almost certainly a future best friend, maybe even spouse, weeps and guffaws through three hundred pages of your brilliant prose, too absorbed even to go for a swim, or take a sip of Evian.

I was cured of this particular fantasy a couple of years ago, when I spent a week watching a woman on the other side of the pool reading my first novel, High Fidelity. Unfortunately, however, I was on holiday with my sister and brother-in-law, and my brother-in-law provided a gleeful and frankly unfraternal running commentary,
‘Look! Her lips are moving.’
‘Ha! She’s fallen asleep! Again!’
‘I talked to her at the bar last night. Not a bright woman. I’m afraid.’
At one point, alarmingly, she dropped the book and ran off.
‘She’s gone to put out her eyes!” my brother-in-law yelled triumphantly.’”