Sunday, January 14, 2007

Miss Cellanea.


Miz K just informs me that Jolie Holland's at Knickerbockers Thursday night. "Poor Girl Blues" is one of my theme songs ... so grateful to Jeff @ O'Rourke's for turning me on to her. Can I afford a $12 cover? Yes, I think I can. Can you???


My weekend in tacticle experiences, using the letter "S":

Solitary: Another weekend in voluntary self-confinement thanks to the snow. It was lovely, quiet -- though I did hate missing book group, even though I hadn't read the book.

BliSS: The best part of solitary was an hourlong bubble bath. I have the world's best bubblebath tub: Deep and cast iron, so it holds the heat forever and covers me completely, or nearly -- nothing showing but nipples and knees.

Snow: Big, light, fluffy flakes this morning, pouring down like a constant stream of confetti. Drier than the last storm, so easy to push to the perimeter. Yesterday's lighter flakes perfect for walking through the 'hood. Everything looks cleaner, sounds quieter, under a think blanket of snow.

Soup: In the end, it was gelatinous blob that couldn't really be called soup. Good practice, though. The flavors melded nicely; the rice and lentils just kept sopping up the liquid without getting close to al dente. I have some ideas for adaptation; need to run them by William and Miz K. Not a failure, but a lesson!

Sonata: Alarmingly wide awake in the middle of the night, I took another of those pills to get back to sleep. And had another hallucinogenic experience. It seems to be a combination of sleep aid with late-night laptop use. Such pretty, pulsating colors, and a feeling of being on a very slow, child-size roller coaster. I'm aware enough not to be scared by it; though should I be scared that I find it somewhat entertaining? (This may not seem to count as tactile, but I'm telling you the 3-D colors leaping out of my laptop *seemed* as if I could not only touch them, but walk right through them. Like a wall of PowerGel.)

Sera Cahoone: Surely a voice so sweet it hurts your heart can also count as a tactile experience?

Sensation: Well ... not everything ought to be blogged about ... but in the end the weekend wasn't entirely solitary after all ...


Leave for Nigeria a week from today. It'll be rewarding, I know, but also hectic. Grateful for this quiet and introspective weekend. But think we should all plan an outing for next weekend!

1 comment:

podunk said...

This entry reminds me of my favorite Stanislaw Lem, in which two characters constantly challenge each other to create outrageous machines. Here Klapaucius issues the following challenge:

"Have it compose a poem--a poem about a haircut! But lofty, noble, tragic, timeless, full of love, treachery, retribution, quiet heroism and in the face of certain doom! Six lines, cleverly rhymed, and every word beginning with the letter s!!"
"And why not throw in a full exposition of the general theory of nonlinear automata while you're at it?" growled Trurl. "You can't give it such idiotic--"
But he didn't finish. A melodious voice filled the hall with the following:

Seduced, shaggy Samson snored.
She scissored short. Sorely shorn,
Soon shackled slave, Samson sighed.
Silently scheming,
Sightlessly seeking
Some savage, spectacular suicide.

~ from The Cyberiad, originally written in Polish and translated by Michael Kandel into English