And now, here is a picture of a raven and a Buddha statue. Because.
Found on Pinterest. What CAN’T you find on Pinterest, I ask you?
And now, here is a picture of a raven and a Buddha statue. Because.
Found on Pinterest. What CAN’T you find on Pinterest, I ask you?
We ended up at Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake Friday night to look for auroras from the solar flares. We didn’t see any, but I was reminded how cool the lake is yet again. So yesterday when I found out about a Victorian artist who painted the lake and other Utah scenes, I had to share.
Alfred Lambourne came over from England and ended up in Utah with the Mormon pioneers. He painted the lake a lot end even homesteaded on Gunnison Island for a while. (He wrote a book about that.) I’m a sucker for Western landscape paintings in general, but I really like his style:
You can read more about him here, here, and here. I think maybe a trip down to the Springville Art Museum is in order.
You may think they’re dated (and sing this song in your head), but legwarmers are really nice for layering over yoga tights when it gets cold. Last fall my mom admired the pair I made, so she got her own this year:
(Easy care Bernat yard from Jo-Ann; pattern invented as I went.)
This is a lot of words to see on a Monday (and some of the words are a little show-off-y), but it’s a good reminder to expose our soft underbelly and be kind to each other.
Also, this line is great: “Dust’s certainly all our fate, so why not/ make it the happiest possible dust,/ a detritus of blessedness?”
Be Kind
by Michael Blumenthal
Not merely because Henry James said
there were but four rules of life—
be kind be kind be kind be kind— but
because it’s good for the soul, and,
what’s more, for others; it may be
that kindness is our best audition
for a worthier world, and, despite
the vagueness and uncertainty of
its recompense, a bird may yet wander
into a bush before our very houses,
gratitude may not manifest itself in deeds
entirely equal to our own, still there’s
weather arriving from every direction,
the feasts of famine and feasts of plenty
may yet prove to be one, so why not
allow the little sacrificial squinches and
squigulas to prevail? Why not inundate
the particular world with minute particulars?
Dust’s certainly all our fate, so why not
make it the happiest possible dust,
a detritus of blessedness? Surely
the hedgehog, furling and unfurling
into its spiked little ball, knows something
that, with gentle touch and unthreatening
tone, can inure to our benefit, surely the wicked
witches of our childhood have died and,
from where they are buried, a great kindness
has eclipsed their misdeeds. Yes, of course,
in the end so much comes down to privilege
and its various penumbras, but too much
of our unruly animus has already been
wasted on reprisals, too much of the
unblessed air is filled with smoke from
undignified fires. Oh friends, take
whatever kindness you can find
and be profligate in its expenditure:
It will not drain your limited resources,
I assure you, it will not leave you vulnerable
and unfurled, with only your sweet little claws
to defend yourselves, and your wet little noses,
and your eyes to the ground, and your little feet.
1.This article about “How to Be Polite” gives you a useful tip for making small talk with people (ask them what they do, and then say, “Oh, that sounds hard”–no matter what the job is), but it also contains some really nice thoughts about compassion, non-judgment, and Zen-like freedom, too:
People silently struggle from all kinds of terrible things. They suffer from depression, ambition, substance abuse, and pretension. They suffer from family tragedy, Ivy-League educations, and self-loathing. They suffer from failing marriages, physical pain, and publishing. The good thing about politeness is that you can treat these people exactly the same. And then wait to see what happens. You don’t have to have an opinion. You don’t need to make a judgment. I know that doesn’t sound like liberation, because we live and work in an opinion-based economy. But it is. Not having an opinion means not having an obligation. And not being obligated is one of the sweetest of life’s riches.
2. Via my brother, here’s a collection of photoshopped children’s book covers:
How have I never posted about Kawase Hasui? Thanks to an Italian calendar company that prints one-sided on nice paper, I have quite a few Hasui images from cut up calendars hanging in the house. I ran across a few new-to-me images yesterday (on Pinterest, naturally) that look very autumnal.
I do not know what gorgeous thing
the bluebird keeps saying,
his voice easing out of his throat,
beak, body into the pink air
of the early morning. I like it
whatever it is. Sometimes
it seems the only thing in the world
that is without dark thoughts.
Sometimes it seems the only thing
in the world that is without
questions that can’t and probably
never will be answered, the
only thing that is entirely content
with the pink, then clear white
morning and, gratefully, says so.
I was late to embrace the whole “tribal print” trend, but now I don’t want to let it go. Crazy prints and colors? Sign me up!
This is ponte de roma knit again–a less-stretchy, heavy knit. Since it kind of acts like a woven fabric, I used a pattern for wovens and just left out the center back seam and zipper. The pattern is another variation of the “shift dress” from the Built By Wendy Dresses book (last seen here with a boat neck and here with bell sleeves).
I’m debating adding front patch pockets–I think they’d disappear in the print but then I also think they’d add some detail to make it look more like a dress and less like a long, crazy t-shirt.
Starting Friday afternoon, the weekend included lunch at the Greek Festival, a visit to Comic Con, making a batch of peach jam, going to the State Fair (and greeting the horses), Sunday brunch in the canyon, a walk around the boardwalk at Silver Lake, a Dr. Who viewing party, and family dinner.
Whew. No wonder I feel like I need another weekend.