christmas 2009: a confession

Every year in my family we do a secret santa gift exchange. My mother has two sisters and a brother, and two of those siblings have spouses and children. Between two uncles, three aunts, four cousins (and two cousins' boyfriends), and two grandparents (not to mention my own immediate family and the sister of my uncle, and her husband) there are a lot of gifts to be given.
I was lucky enough to draw my mother's wonderfully artistic and talented eldest sister, Jan, in the secret Santa drawing two years ago, and with just a month before Christmas, I bit off much more than I could chew. I spent my $50 limit on about two dozen balls of mercerized cotton yarn in a variety of colors, intending to knit a log cabin throw I found in the fabulous book Mason-Dixon Knitting. It's a very simple garter stitch pattern, and I knit sixteen of the 18-row panels, and presented the unfinished piece to her on Christmas Day with the promise to finish it. However, it is a year an a half later, I've barely touched it. I feel so guilty about this gift, because I should have finished it and given it to her completed that Christmas, and at the very least, had the decency to give it the attention it deserved after the fact, and finish it in a reasonable amount of time.

Now, however, I'm picking up this piece again, and I intend to finish it. She deserves it.

"I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be."

- Emily Dickinson




Today was one of those great days when you get home at the end of it and you're completely worn out. This morning I had drawing class; we're drawing undraped models right now, and I've been turning out some of my best work yet, which is so satisfying, but I definitely leave class exhausted. Nathan picked me up after class, and we had lunch together before he went to work and I met up with my dad.
The weather was so incredible today - the sun was warm, but the air was cool and breezy, and the sky was full of beautiful white clouds. We decided to take the dog out to West Marin, which is one of my favorite places on earth.




If you drive out through the redwoods of Samuel P. Taylor park, and through Inverness towards Drake's Beach and the lighthouse, the land is all historic ranch land, and protected (there are a couple small ranches still, so there are cows everywhere) - just rolling green hills in every direction. No houses, no stores, just the occasional old barn. I've never been to the UK, but I've always imagined these hills in West Marin look like the moors in southern England (like the ones one has read about in Wuthering Heights and The Secret Garden, for example..that's where my moor knowledge comes from).

This is Drakes Bay - Sir Francis Drake likely landed here during his expedition of the world in 1579. He compared these cliffs to the white cliffs of Dover. It isn't very obvious in this picture, but the cliff faces are all white - they really do look like pictures I've seen of Dover. Very windswept and romantic.

 

We had no plan and no time constraints, so we drove until the road ended. What we found was sort of amazing - a short trail led to a vista which overlooked a cove where dozens and dozens of elephant seals were sleeping on a little beach! We could see little white seal pups, and there was a huge elephant seal bull which stayed in the water about ten feet out from shore. He barked towards the ocean, warning off other males, I guess. Because the way the cove curved around, his barks bounced off the water and cliffs - even though we were really far away, it was still so loud.

This picture isn't very good (I just took it with my phone, and used the zoom, which is awful), but you can see how many seals there were. I can't wait to go back with binoculars and my real camera.

Here's my dad and the dog, Boris. He's a husky, and very rambunctious, but very sweet. He howled and pulled at the leash when he heard the elephant seals barking. The path to the outlook was protected so we had to put Boris back in the car, but he could hear them from the parking lot, and was very excited.

The last hundred yards of the road down to Chimney Rock (the place where we found the elephant seal outlook) was just big enough for one car, and had no fences on either side, so the cows were really really close!

It was a really lovely day. I was happy to spend time with my dad, and the landscape and weather were perfection.

“Just living is not enough... One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.”

- Hans Christian Andersen





After nearly two weeks of rain and dreary weather, it feels like spring is here at last. Walking from my car to work, the sidewalk was lined with pretty little flowers, and patches of moss and green grass. The sun was shining, and birds were chirping. It was awfully idyllic - it's too bad I have to spend the day indoors working, but work will make tomorrow (drawing class in the morning, an afternoon of freedom after) much more sweet.

jack and jackie

      I was in a bookstore last week and (as I am wont to do) wandered aimlessly till I found something interesting. Walking through the American History section, I came across a book called Letters to Jackie: Condolences from a Grieving Nation, by Ellen Fitzpatrick. As I read excerpts from letters sent to the First Lady after the President's death, I was surprised that I was so surprised to realize how connected people felt to JFK. I don't think there's anything now that would have the same effect on the whole country as JFK's assassination did - I think we've become...somewhat apathetic, desensitized by the media/constant connectedness etc., I don't know. 
     But since then, I've been thinking a lot about this couple. I even went onto youtube and watched the video of his assassination, which I regret now. I don't want to think about that part. I'd rather "remember" them as a couple in love.

   I just love this picture - it's one of the few pictures of the two being affectionate. These days people tend to believe they weren't really in love, but I don't believe that. I think it was just the time and circumstances in which they were raised - public displays of affection were not as tolerated as they are now, and especially not for the upper crusts of society. I think there's something to be said for that, too, in some ways. Saving kissing for when you're alone definitely makes it more powerful and special (though anyone who knows me knows that I take every opportunity to kiss my honey, wherever we may be, so do with that what you will).
    
     Here's another very sweet picture of these American royals. This is my favorite of them I think - it was taken when they were still dating. It is oh-so-sweet and playful, a more intimate portrait of them than if they had been kissing. The way she's looking directly into his eyes, and he's looking right back at her, their playful smiles. Also, Jackie is so beautiful here! Her short haircut is so pretty and sassy, and that dress is a dream (and Michelle Obama can eat her heart out on those arms). We're so lucky to have this picture of them.

I don't know if anyone reads this at all, but I am resolved to really be better about updating. I really WANT to write, so I'm working hard on being more steadfast and resolute. 


Thanks so much to jimmypage of the Kennedys tumblr page for these sweet pictures!

"Plenty to see and hear and feel yet."

      welcome, readers! i'm excited to be starting up blogging again, with less journalling and more personal education and exploration in mind. my basic idea for this blog (and who knows how this will change in the future) is to post anything i find beautiful/inspiring/curious (poetry, bits of prose, pictures, art, events from history, etc.) with a little bit of my own waxing on the subject.


     i've decided to kick things off right, with one of my favorite poems, Fern Hill, by Dylan Thomas. i love his mastery of the english language, the way he paints such a gorgeous and lyrical picture of a man looking back on his childhood. his use of indistinct phrasing gives me an almost dreamlike idea of what he's describing, as if i'm seeing its reflection in water, or through some sort of mist, but never a crisp image.
     this poem's language is so lush, you can almost taste it; it feels, in one way or another, like every summer of my life. the last two lines are especially (heart-achingly) beautiful.



Fern Hill
Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and
cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was
air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the
nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking
warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs.
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would 

take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.