tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128291032012-02-12T22:56:26.595-05:00Writing at the margins. Writing in the margins. A place to react, to stop and share a few words, to take stock, to think aloud.marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.comBlogger3321100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-75327484412147044272012-02-12T22:44:00.005-05:002012-02-12T22:56:26.602-05:00

When I went through old photographs I found it a slow process--stopping to recall. Why don't I recall this purse? What treasures did it hold?I found a photo of the Ainsley Road boys running backward races. Each boy wore a unique hat and a tee shirt-- backwards. That photo brought back that particular afternoon. Jean, who lived at the other end of Ainsley Road, and I held an end of school year

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-16688297613216900942012-02-11T20:23:00.001-05:002012-02-12T22:45:25.969-05:00

Open up to the worldwith open armsBe an open bookopen and above aboardOpen your eyesWhat do you see?Too many closed doors

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-28281277296362313602012-02-10T22:29:00.003-05:002012-02-10T22:49:00.671-05:00

 How many people feel that they are out of their element--in the wrong place or even born in the wrong century? If you prefer typing on an old Royal, eschew ebooks, refer to computers as time wasters, and believe that minimalist literature misses the mark it may be that you are often out of your element.When I read the newspaper I often wonder if there's a disconnect. Today I picked up the Wall

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-57336070594876157272012-02-09T19:12:00.003-05:002012-02-09T22:48:01.846-05:00

I'm working on a mixed media piece that is constrained. It stays within boundaries. My colors follow the accepted triad of colors on a color wheel. I've been careful to squint and check values. Every few minutes I stare at the composition to make certain that my eye moves around the canvas. I ask questions—do I have a center of interest?Yet, the canvas acts like a vise. Paint needs to drip beyond

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-72403343545728425242012-02-08T19:10:00.000-05:002012-02-09T21:56:04.538-05:00

I recently listened to someone talk about a faith journey and that set me to thinking about my own journeys. When you start out it's impossible to visualize the terminus—or the ruts, or tributaries, or heights. Who envisions a journey that takes so many meandering turns and stops and starts with spurts?I recall playing Chutes and Ladders—thinking I was winning and then finding myself sliding down

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-91941440761536975992012-02-07T21:30:00.000-05:002012-02-09T21:33:12.316-05:00

Some people look as if they delight in taking a solitary walk, while others look as if they are adrift. I expect that it depends upon how you envision your time alone and how connected you feel to others. Some walks are meant to be taken with another person—they're ambling or filled with remarkable vistas or small mysteries.Some days a walk by yourself is a time for meditating or simply turning

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-89013530734060690612012-02-06T21:09:00.004-05:002012-02-07T22:31:25.839-05:00

Did you ever wonder about all the things that are "Out Of Order"?Sure there are the usual spots—the places you expect will be culprits, but what about the others.Our society is "Out of Order". Pick up the newspaper and read the most innocuous of stories and ponder the underlining story.If I am astounded by the weekly increases, the inching ahead of items in the grocery store, then what is the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-40401711776259963242012-02-05T19:53:00.002-05:002012-02-06T21:07:24.676-05:00

 So close, yet so far away. To get to the Superbowl is a feat, but to lose the game is a blow to every New England team. How did this happen? If just one play went the other way. If they recovered at least one of the two Giant fumbles? If they didn't forget to count and had the correct number of men on the field when not having the right number meant giving up yardage? If Eli Manning wasn't so

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-34934055067310254272012-02-04T20:58:00.002-05:002012-02-06T21:06:17.926-05:00

 Ever wonder about the people who carve their initials on a tree or use paint to write messages? Are they staking out territory or stating something important even if it's import only is momentary.How different is tree writing, carving your initials into a desk or leaving your tag on a subway train? I've seen entire subway cars covered with balloon letter tags--someone's imprint. When the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-72524793652743684482012-02-03T18:08:00.003-05:002012-02-05T17:38:30.584-05:00

I've often wondered how seemingly disparate ideas or persons or "things" come together. Some are strange bedfellows—alienated on most issues, but united on one issue. Proximity accounts for some coupling, happenstance plays a part, and even fate plays a role.I recall sitting next to a complete stranger on a New York City bus—a city noted for its rapid movement and frenetic pace. The woman

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-26825001741513200982012-02-03T10:12:00.003-05:002012-02-03T18:08:31.171-05:00

 What happened? Did the salt water rust out all these boxes or did time move beyond their use? There's a Telephone Museum in Ellsworth, Maine where visitors may stare at old phones.  I never knew anyone who had a party line, but I did know a time when real operators answered the phone. Now we are so used to hearing the words " If you want information..."Press 1." Often you can't skip all the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-53587644468308950632012-02-02T10:00:00.001-05:002012-02-02T10:00:06.378-05:00

Every day, every night someone is making predictions about the Super Bowl. Stats are spread out and compared— the trajectory of throws, time in the pocket, interceptions. Bodies, weights, lines are compared and contrasted. Las Vegas busies itself with statistics, variabilities, previous meetings and from inches and inches of data they will set the odds.Grocery store employees sharpen their knives

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-49903895462033666742012-02-01T22:22:00.001-05:002012-02-01T22:29:02.673-05:00

All the library books I requested arrived at the same time. How to prioritize? Do I start with the Scandinavian thriller or with the words penned by a religious rebel? Perhaps I’ll select the memoir of a father and son’s trip to Alaska. Then there are the books on my Kindle— And I must count the newspapers and magazines—And the books to be read on my bookshelf, many of them found at library book

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-4887738666911737542012-01-31T21:26:00.002-05:002012-01-31T21:50:12.145-05:00

This is one of my favorite sculptures in DeCordova's sculpture garden—Joseph Wheelwright's "Listening Stone". To listen means bending one's ear to the ground, attending with all attention. How often in this world of multi-tasking, surplus of information, blaring sound, do we really listen? I think that when we really listen to what someone is saying we stop all the whirring in our minds and

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-46055585527439722652012-01-30T22:02:00.001-05:002012-01-30T22:08:23.236-05:00

Several days ago I printed this photo—but now I've added something. Two photos taken fifteen miles apart on different days almost seamlessly stitched together. How easy it is to create something out of nothing.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-56884497117288346262012-01-29T21:17:00.000-05:002012-01-30T21:31:36.413-05:00

A Place in a queue One's Place at a banquet A formal Place settingA bookmark holding your PlaceDo Place your teacup downThe Place you inhabitThe Place you stand —an attitude, an angle of visionA logical orderYour walk in lifeA pigeonhole, a Place in the catalogue of possibilities

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-56721413191594212462012-01-28T15:01:00.001-05:002012-01-29T15:18:14.145-05:00

Listening to our politicians, those people who hanker after an elected office, I am stunned by their willingness to throw away civility and honesty. Why not twist an incident, or distort words? They drag through the past looking for something to hang on the shoulders of an opponent —wishing to see them pulled down by the weight of innuendoes or the twisting of facts.But then if we did not

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-36129928143470993262012-01-27T21:32:00.003-05:002012-01-28T23:42:55.558-05:00

In this winter that isn't winter the cyclists are out in force—many with their particular attire. After watching four properly garbed cyclists pedal past—colorful tops, cycle shoes, gloves, helmets and water bottles ,this biker was a breath of fresh air. She wore a knitted cap, a puffy—possibly down, jacket—and sensible shoes. And instead of being hunched over her bicycle she sat upright. She

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-29577503664086584202012-01-26T20:30:00.002-05:002012-01-26T20:34:27.525-05:00

In addition to knowing the technical ins and outs of photography, you need a discerning eye. I'm mesmerized by black and white photos, especially of people. Not portraits. I love the captured moments or even the ones where the subjects are staring directly into the camera, but the photographer has disrobed and discarded the outer garment and we see someone's soul.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-65458518194042095902012-01-25T20:19:00.000-05:002012-01-26T20:21:35.594-05:00

What is it about collage and mixed media that fascinates me? It's like a crazy quilt—you can let your imagination fly with colors and shapes. I like the sudden realization that what you've been working on really looks like a —or perhaps it's simply a design.I recently heard someone speak about journeys, in particular faith journeys, and as I thought of my own circuitous journey I wondered about

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-76481766780689288852012-01-24T21:53:00.002-05:002012-01-26T19:54:21.927-05:00

Aren't we all a bit ageist? Put us in a group of almost seriously older folks and we may wonder why we chose that group, or what we may have in common with the group. It is also a reminder of how age creeps up. Put us in a group with people ten or twenty years younger and we feel that we have lost years.Of course it depends upon the group and what you are doing. Coming face to face with some of

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-18121469191688947692012-01-23T20:43:00.000-05:002012-01-24T22:56:13.099-05:00

Is a smock the same as an apron? My art instructor asked us to bring an apron to the next art class. She's British.According to the free dictionary a smock is defined as: 1. (Clothing & Fashion) any loose protective garment, worn by artists, laboratory technicians, etc.2. (Clothing & Fashion) a woman's loose blouse-like garment, reaching to below the waist, worn over slacks, etc.3. (Clothing &

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-90674263330295346522012-01-22T23:16:00.000-05:002012-01-22T23:18:22.552-05:00

Until last week the word Humument wasn't in my vocabulary--that is until I happened upon Tom Philips work."A Humument is a treated book by British artist Tom Phillips based on a Victorian novel. It was born in 1966 when Phillips read about William Burroughs’ cut-up technique. Wanting to do something similar, Phillips decided that the first coherent book he came across “for threepence would serve.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-48507880880343279552012-01-21T22:14:00.001-05:002012-01-21T22:20:31.745-05:00

Every year, at least for the past three, I've sought out book challenges and signed up for several. Read a book, write a review. I recall those days of forced, coerced, demanded from -- book reviews, at that time teachers referred to them as book reports.Most students stood in front of the class, hands clentching a piece of paper and attempting to recall what it was that they had liked about

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-84093373086564825872012-01-21T21:41:00.000-05:002012-01-21T21:43:22.485-05:00

As soon as someone mentioned altered books I became infatuated. What did it mean when one said altered? To change. To improve. To recreate in another form. Do I look at the book and get my inspiration from the initial book? Do I simply gesso the pages? Are there poems to be found, pithy sayings to uncover-- simply by eliminating words?What happens to the words that are thrown away? Do they

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-21772110873205249382012-01-19T21:43:00.001-05:002012-01-19T21:45:53.746-05:00

I've grown accustomed to the balmy winter weather-- although the past few days the temperatures plummeted. Now the weather people, those harbingers of hot and cold, predict snow for the weekend. After a winter lacking any real snow this pronouncement isn't welcome.Take today. I had an art class and my supplies for the session fit nicely into a small plastic two wheeled push cart. Without the cart

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-8637374487727004562012-01-18T07:34:00.000-05:002012-01-19T07:36:00.609-05:00

No Censorship

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-53917340300374068242012-01-17T20:17:00.001-05:002012-01-17T20:19:17.171-05:00

A friend mentioned finding a new, for her, book by Mary Robison. I immediately read Marilynne Robinson and headed to the stacks.Actually I read her blog while hunched over books—in the library. Studying, contemplating and drinking from my half hidden water bottle nestled behind the No Drinking, No Eating sign.The man at the table behind me was nursing a Starbucks coffee in full view of anyone

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-53742338400654084372012-01-16T18:12:00.001-05:002012-01-17T18:18:23.121-05:00

Anticipation, my mother said, is half the fun. Yet it's possible to become so entwined in all that happens before the event that the event itself is anti-climatic. That never seemed to happen to my mother. "It's the road," she said. That was before someone coined the phrase, "It's the journey, not the destination that matters."They are braided together—just like a braided essay. My mother

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-52699636941409969022012-01-15T18:00:00.000-05:002012-01-15T18:01:30.753-05:00

I've just come back from a twenty-fifth anniversary party thrown by two friends-- seventy people in their home. A friend did the cooking, a daughter-in-law washed the dishes, and wall to wall people ate, drank soda, and talked. If you didn't want to nibble the cheese, dip veggies into two different dips, spread salmon spread on crackers, eat chicken wings, pasta salad or garbanzo salad-- then you

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-13254044226828076542012-01-14T14:09:00.000-05:002012-01-15T14:12:23.148-05:00

This is the weekend when anyone with a penchant for football can spend hours rooting for their team or rooting for a team to lose. I must admit that living in New England for a number of years has caused me to relinquish my connection to New York teams and to embrace New England teams. Thus I am a New England Patriots fan.What is it about geography and place that causes one to feel an infinity

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-88967821996581828982012-01-13T08:53:00.003-05:002012-01-14T09:01:06.851-05:00

It's cold and I'm thinking about other seasons. Not that I don't like winter, but I find myself yearning for fewer heavy garments, bare arms, toes unencumbered by shoes, and a nose that doesn't turn red. On the other hand I do like the way my shoes leave imprints in new snow, the taste of snow on my tongue, and catching snowflakes on black construction paper. Of course it hasn't really snowed

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-5171384075593804752012-01-12T22:00:00.003-05:002012-01-12T22:07:02.510-05:00

Building blocks necessary for the construction of —Nothing is built without the addition of one thing to another —Pull out one block and the pile teeters—

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-44781086623720978372012-01-11T23:49:00.002-05:002012-01-11T23:52:23.526-05:00

One headlight, on the passenger side, is out. Two rubbery carrots, forgotten and left alone couldn't be salvaged.Three fruit flavored Life Savers savored at the movie theatre while watching 'Pariah'.Four books waiting to be read--a mystery, a memoir, a study guide for Acts, and a A Throughly Non-Standardized Text For Writing & Life Five minutes needed to finish a saved crossword puzzle.Six

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-23450845939012521442012-01-10T21:27:00.003-05:002012-01-10T21:33:56.911-05:00

After deep and somewhat chaotic introspection my list of resolutions for 2012, written down, inscribed in blue ink in a new notebook, is complete. This year I've tried to hone them down to a respectable number. Why bother with those resolutions that I know I won't keep. Despite my penchant for armchair travel to remote and dangerous places I won't be buying passage to a far flung spot. I love the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-25537719793075439092012-01-09T21:05:00.002-05:002012-01-09T21:11:27.347-05:00

Everything needs special equipment. Scale a vertical rock face and don't forget a harness, chalk bag, belay device, quickdraws, rope, rope bag, helmet and an assortment of other complex sounding devices.Go bungie jumping and besides sheer steel nerves don't forget the cord -- get one certified for 1000 jumps and keep track. Then there's the bumper pad in case you bump into a hard surface.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-86413785077029972432012-01-08T22:57:00.003-05:002012-01-08T23:05:54.271-05:00

Sometimes soul food is a pita chock full of falafel and vegetables surrounded by tahini.Sometimes a Subway's Veggie Delight bathed in honey mustard while eating baked chips and watching the people on line does the trick.Occasionally frozen yogurt mounded up in a cup beckons--Or a bagel laden with chive cream cheese or an onion bagel beneath butterOr a peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting in

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-15507515949916612212012-01-07T22:31:00.002-05:002012-01-07T22:36:07.806-05:00

I usually don't suggest books on this blog, but on this day and at this time I am changing my stripes. Breathing Space A Spiritual Journey in the South Bronx By Heidi B. Neumark.The author was a Lutheran pastor of a church on East 156th Street. Transfiguration Lutheran Church is right in the midst of the South Bronx --one of the poorest urban areas, infested with rats and violence-- yet in

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-62500272039137829332012-01-06T21:15:00.003-05:002012-01-06T21:22:53.875-05:00

Just on a whim I decided to enter one of my mixed media paintings in a juried art exhibit --without any real thought of being selected to exhibit. This evening the list was posted and I had to read and reread the list because there was my name and the name of my piece-- Route 66. I feel like the kid who gets the first patch or first trophy. I wanted to paste the list on the refrigerator. My last

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-866782188812073462012-01-05T20:24:00.004-05:002012-01-05T21:09:37.833-05:00

It is finally time to do some of the mundane tasks that I relegate to the tomorrows which never seem to arrive. I am a collector of ephemera—which is then relegated to some drawer or the basement. But how do I know that the ten plastic tomato boxes won't be just the items needed for a craft project? Recently I've been scanning articles instead of cutting them out and placing them in folders. Just

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-61997487749700724122012-01-04T21:14:00.004-05:002012-01-04T21:23:05.903-05:00

How much money will be spent on political ads? Collectively how much money will the Republican hopefuls spend in their attempt to be the candidate facing off against President Obama? And how much money will the Democrats spend in their attempt to thwart the Republicans?How much money will a baseball team spend to get the ultimate slugger? And what will a pitcher's arm be worth to the team seeking

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-37051124353692059542012-01-03T17:03:00.001-05:002012-01-03T17:05:06.731-05:00

My father wore a metal whistle at the end of his navy blue lanyard. After he came home from officiating a high school basketball game, he took off the lanyard and placed it on the dresser my parents shared. The weave looked complicated—especially to an eight year old. For years I wanted my own lanyard—not for a whistle, but for a key or for the small magnifying glass I carried with me. The glass

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-74751233939468053512012-01-02T21:25:00.003-05:002012-01-02T21:50:12.131-05:00

Buried under half used notebooks, loose scraps of paper, and an assortment of paper clips I found an old telephone book. AAlternative Beauty Parlor—where the owner brought her dog to work and convinced me to highlight my hair with a blond shade that turned red.BDot B. who mentored me when I first started teaching in a school for children who couldn't attend their public schools because their

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-43119473896547215532012-01-01T18:52:00.002-05:002012-01-01T19:41:19.468-05:00

"...listening to memories." River JordanWhenever the last day of the year turns over to the next year I, too, listen to memories. Some, embedded in the far past. To listen to a memory differs from recalling a memory. Listening, attuned to the nuances of the memory, in hushed attention to the edges of a memory.Images resound. Words form and drift into the present time. I respond to unanswered

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-32095483494548860962011-11-30T22:50:00.000-05:002011-11-30T22:51:28.370-05:00

This is the time of year when gifts beyond the pale of necessity and even lavishness appear. I recall a seven foot stuffed giraffe selling for close to one thousand dollars. All the catalogs haven't been sent, the weekend newspaper inserts are not yet stuffed into the paper, and Montblanc may have trumped all the wildly " you don't really need this " gift ideas.They have created a software

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-36292013663147555922011-11-29T22:54:00.000-05:002011-11-29T22:55:47.426-05:00

Did you ever write in-between the ruled lines? Or write vertically? A friend once bought me a Fisher Space Pen that wrote underwater or with its point facing the ceiling. It was purported to be used in outer space—the writing implement of the astronauts. Probably also used by deep sea divers.For my birthday I received a pen promising to write for seven years —" write two meters a day for seven

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-41931986987560970382011-11-28T21:53:00.002-05:002011-11-28T21:58:55.471-05:00

Several times in the past month a young man comes into the coffee house and orders a coffee. His gait is ungainly compared to others his age. He sits at a table for two and often takes out a smart phone and is either looking at something or absorbed by the phone.Last week his mother came in with a friend. They sat at a separate table. The young man pointed to the woman and then to himself. Tracy

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-59485799409346011412011-11-27T21:31:00.004-05:002011-11-27T21:44:10.142-05:00

The library is a treasure trove of possibilities. Last week when roaming through the stacks I found two titles I didn't know I needed. One, a series of yoga exercises and the other titled Praying for Strangers. The first book, filled with positions or postures or moves that didn't ask me to twist into a pretzel -- while inhaling and exhaling-- was a remarkable find. I know the music now begins

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-30756721451909882522011-11-26T17:46:00.001-05:002011-11-26T17:49:54.044-05:00

When there's a window of warmth and people look half dressed for spring and half for late fallWhen a welcoming silence settles in a room and joins a larger silenceWhen words gain substance and people hear the fullness of languageOn those rare days ...I'll brew a cup of tea and sit quietly and listen.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-31947947842451433872011-11-25T17:51:00.001-05:002011-11-25T17:53:37.102-05:00

Consume. Consume. ConsumeThe Thursday newspaper weighed more than any daily needs to weigh-- pages and pages of inserted ads bulked the paper. Stores strived to open before turkey meals were digested. By offering " incredible" deals they anticipated throngs lining up outside. One radio station reported that a woman used pepper spray on people in front of her to either move them along or rid the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-14760367430559622082011-11-24T17:38:00.000-05:002011-11-25T17:40:25.038-05:00

As I ate my untraditional fish dinner I thought about previous dinners.One time my turkey sat in its pan in the oven behaving reasonably well-- that is browning and cooking before it caught on fire. The smoke alarm sounded and smoke ascended from the oven door. The turkey was rescued, the windows opened, the alarm disconnected until the air cleared and save for a smoky skin the turkey survived

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-50975444660151404992011-11-23T22:13:00.002-05:002011-11-23T22:18:45.588-05:00

Some people are at home with flour, Vanilla Extract, pie plates and all the other paraphernalia necessary for creating a delectable pie. I am a novice. My meager pie credentials pale compared to accomplished bakers, but compared to my mother I am in the advanced class.My mother didn't bake, didn't care about baking and believed that what came in a box or in cellophane wrapping was an adequate

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-76694827521998029342011-11-22T21:42:00.002-05:002011-11-23T21:59:18.009-05:00

Read the same story, but come to different conclusions about why the characters did what they did under trying circumstances. Who is to say which response captures the mind of another. Read a story in the newspaper and wonder why someone committed an act of treachery or what inspired someone to act beyond what is expected. We can read the words and make inferences. We bring our own knapsacks

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-83406263692506570062011-11-21T20:18:00.002-05:002011-11-21T20:20:14.718-05:00

Felicity Aston is " preparing for a historic solo crossing of Antarctica on skis. She aims to become the first person to cross Antarctica alone using only muscle power."Didn't Borge Ousland do that in 1996? Perhaps she's the first woman-- if she succeeds.As of this morning the weather was delaying her start. As soon as possible she'll be off and reporting her progress. Perhaps I'll follow

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-50969209809522155492011-11-20T21:45:00.001-05:002011-11-20T21:46:40.805-05:00

Without really thinking, or thinking too much, I elected to write a blog a day for the month of November. Some days what to say eludes me. Now I could pretend this is a diary and write of my days, but that supposes a day composed of fascinating tidbits.Perhaps snippets of a day. Yesterday when the road I'd normally take was closed, I had no idea of an alternate route. Disclaimer: ask me about

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-88733073007444816062011-11-19T19:50:00.000-05:002011-11-20T19:54:19.573-05:00

)Her story...Her story appeared on the front page of the daily newspaper although she preferred seeing it elsewhere. The front page is so blatant, so in front of your face. Although when she asked what section people read first, the front page didn't garner the largest readership." Comics, I always start with the funnies. Ever since my father taught me to read Little Orphan Annie I've followed

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-42634737186211226432011-11-18T18:58:00.000-05:002011-11-20T19:52:04.778-05:00

" I have something unexpected to tell you."-- Ludmila UlitskayaIf you read the epigram expect revelations, but no unseemly facts seep onto the page. Unexpected means a day close to the end of November with temperatures beyond the expected even though the sun sets way too early giving the day a surrealistic aura. And each aura color, a rainbow of shades and mutations, signifies part of your puzzle

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-77229433917565965232011-11-17T18:33:00.001-05:002011-11-20T18:41:42.251-05:00

"By digesting the past, rather than pretending to lose it,one can transform it."-- Aviva ZornbergThe past, a canker sore massaged with the tongue, raw and bothersome or turned on spindle, examined and unwound. The past stuck in a drawer and locked with a cruciform key.The past, expunged, deleted, as if one could erase all traces.Or setting the past on a linen napkin, displaying it on a crystal

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-48653851835602779432011-11-16T21:43:00.004-05:002011-11-18T10:01:38.824-05:00

A line of text is like a silhouette on the horizon. Closer inspection reveals the detail, the trees, bushes, rocks; details that, though only vaguely perceivable from afar, create both rhythm and variation. The beauty of this landscape is born of both regularity and variety. By Ludwig ÜbeleThe Jewish sopherim, or scribes, carefully and laboriously copied Scripture. They took their task quite

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-15927320992771710782011-11-15T22:15:00.004-05:002011-11-15T23:31:01.665-05:00

Several weeks ago while roaming around Staples in search of clear packing tape, I found myself in an aisle stocked with yellow lined pads. I stared at a pack of three legal sized pads and then at a portfolio intended for holding a pad and providing a firm writing surface. When I graduated from high school my parents, knowing that I loved writing letters, bought me a brown writing case. One side

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-39807876330739273282011-11-14T18:00:00.000-05:002011-11-15T18:35:06.149-05:00

Don’t we all sift what ever we read, hear, or see through our own lens? To put on someone else’s glasses means being willing to see as someone else sees —and then our own view may change. Or if not change we may hold our interpretation up to the light to gain additional clarity.Clarity. Not obscure. Not hidden in the conundrum of language. Not buried beneath layers of the past.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-23235845041539579662011-11-13T18:40:00.000-05:002011-11-14T18:42:30.056-05:00

When the weather turns and the reality of winter approaching is no longer an avoidable event, I find myself foraging for books in libraries. I’m setting up provisions for less daylight. It’s never too early to start the process—lest one be caught unprepared.My last two unplanned library excursions were typical of my eclectic tastes. Several weeks ago I read The Sisters of Sinai By Janet Soskice,

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-82469397669725002422011-11-12T18:13:00.005-05:002011-11-13T20:23:40.960-05:00

What does it mean when people search for the source? Do they need to discover the beginning? Is it a seed for further exploration? Is it an informant? Is it someone who initiates something? Is it the place we can find the validity of information?According to the dictionary the use of the word dates back to 1346.1A recent book looks at early explorers who sought to find the terminus of the Nile

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-16586602360170560202011-11-11T17:47:00.001-05:002011-11-11T17:49:44.277-05:00

Each day more daylight disappears, carved away until the dark assumes so much time. Perhaps I'm more aware of the dark because it means adapting to another schedule. Keeping pace with the clock can be jarring. Once I lived in a house also occupied by a grandfather's clock that ponderously intoned the hour with a punctual regularity. I waited for a chance to grab hold of the weights and alter its

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-65466708623148245472011-11-10T19:08:00.002-05:002011-11-10T19:11:57.997-05:00

Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.~Pablo Picasso Find scraps of paper, torn receipts, movie stubs, half-completed lists, the napkin someone used to add the bill, and any textured paper. Scour sidewalks for torn lottery tickets. Don't neglect the Sunday paper or the catalogs that help the Postal Service survive. Emails and text messages can't be snipped and added, but old

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-10008484140135398722011-11-09T18:43:00.004-05:002011-11-09T20:57:59.880-05:00

Really reading the newspaper is an act of daring—you may be required to respond. The inequality between those who have and those who teeter on the rungs of poverty grows each day. " Poverty has deepened in Boston's poorest neighborhoods." Boston Globe 11/9/2011Private Properties"Mansion in San Francisco Sells for $33 million""A Second S.F. Mansion Sells for $29.5 million"If you are looking for

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-17977437733085201802011-11-08T21:00:00.002-05:002011-11-08T21:32:26.685-05:00

If language creates reality then without language we live in an amorphous state. But does language create reality or does language describe reality? I rather think that it works both ways. We can with our words construct possibilities, existential conundrums, or use our words to hold off or draw near to people. The words we use help define us or assist others in defining us. Is that our reality?

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-40054048848924140742011-11-07T21:51:00.002-05:002011-11-07T21:52:49.417-05:00

When I was seven my mother bought me a pack of twenty-four Crayola Crayons. Before ever coloring with them I arranged the colors in order—best loved in the front row. My favorite color—magenta. I tried to color evenly so that no side of the crayon wore down first —turning the crayon like a spit. I recall sleeping with the box under my pillow. Nina lived across the street and she knew how to

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-88548729449997098412011-11-06T22:20:00.002-05:002011-11-06T22:25:14.142-05:00

I notice the tightness of my jeans and wonder if there's a correlation with my desire , or should I say obsession, with chocolate chip frozen yogurt. Last year I abstained from the end of November to the first of May, or was it April. I shall do the same this year. I wonder if they'll miss me at my preferred ice cream shop. And soon the ice coffee will morph into hot coffee, but it isn't coffee

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-74922016411991376852011-11-05T22:20:00.000-04:002011-11-05T22:22:44.086-04:00

If half of the whole watched what the other half ate, spent their money on --when they had extra money --then the world's axis would turn at a different rate.People dressed in outlandish costumes find themselves spinning off the vertical pole and landing in awkward positions. I cannot bend my body into yoga positions even though I know each stretch extends my flexibility for another year. I

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-57550545071222984362011-11-04T21:35:00.002-04:002011-11-04T21:41:39.739-04:00

Hope is a thing with feathersThat perches in the soul.~Emily DickinsonYou can't survive without hope. You wither and dry up or become brittle and unable to stand upright. But what happens when hope is pummeled over and over?. Today I read that one in fifteen people in the United States are the poorest of the poor. How long does hope stay perched in their souls? Does hope erode when there isn't

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-15829916792225692162011-11-03T21:01:00.002-04:002011-11-03T21:02:55.521-04:00

What happens to memories? Do they take flight? What ones remain deeply embedded in the interior of our bodies? Etched, I imagine, in our sinews, ready to spring out whenever a string shows up. And each cord, tethered to the recollection tugs until it loosens the trace and fishtails to the surface. Once a draught catches the tail the entire story emerges , slightly altered. Each telling deviating

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-77462582428167886422011-11-02T20:41:00.002-04:002011-11-02T20:42:47.629-04:00

What is the difference between commentary and midrash? If I read a Biblical passage and then read a commentary the writer attempts to make sense of the passage through the lens of individual belief. In the midrash the same personal lens is used but then the writer allows himself the freedom to expand way beyond the words on the page. I envision the writer of midrash attempting to uncoil the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-43411409390666971412011-11-01T21:50:00.002-04:002011-11-01T21:54:21.397-04:00

Do you think, a friend wrote, bears have begun to hibernate? I'm not certain of the answer, but expect that some threw in the towel earlier than others. I don't hibernate, but I do squirrel away cold weather schemes. My reading broadens, my visits to the library increase in intensity, and I take courses.When I scan the books on my to read bookshelf I find a plethora of unconventional reads—for me

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-2722768943516802032011-10-31T21:59:00.000-04:002011-11-01T22:00:03.371-04:00

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-55621284610539843592011-10-30T11:05:00.005-04:002011-10-30T11:50:31.420-04:00

An unexpected October snow storm and our entire town lost power at 4:00 a.m. When I Iooked outside this morning I viewed a tableau of trees either bent low bowing to the ground or supine on the earth. C shaped evergreen branches swung back and forth keeping time with the wind.We set out to find a warm place and a cup of coffee. The Starbucks ten minutes away was open. While I searched for a

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-75980044913418170822011-10-29T17:15:00.003-04:002011-10-29T19:35:25.844-04:00

The computer decided to ignore my commands and set off on its own path, but then life necessitates grooming a way. And that way. I must stop there because as soon as I write way I am capitulated into territory carved out by someone else. The Way, as if you can stipulate a word as belonging to you. If I withdraw from this behemoth and pick up my pen I can envision commanding the instrument to obey

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-40272290622681005872011-09-30T20:55:00.001-04:002011-09-30T23:09:18.228-04:00

Used  book sales where musty harlequins rub covers with Tolstoy and private eyes trail memoirs checking for truth--

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-66597296153734079282011-09-29T20:56:00.001-04:002011-09-29T23:31:09.734-04:00

A cloud, ominous and mournful, hangs over New England. The Boys of Summer, hampered by an inexplicable flight from reality tumbled, tossed, and plummeted to the ground. Several states away the Rays refused to accept defeat and in a storybook ending started to pile on run after run until they made up seven runs. And then they capped off their miracle by scoring the winning run.Perhaps the Red Sox

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-78815297166447443042011-09-28T23:42:00.004-04:002011-09-28T23:51:03.201-04:00

I travel quite far without a passport or luggage. Occasionally I'll run into difficulty understanding regional dialects, but get by without phrase books. I endure Antarctica's cold, am not bothered by the insects in the jungle—even the goliath birdeater tarantula of South America. My clothes never wrinkle when I'm scaling mountains, sleeping under the stars, or spelunking a thousand feet below

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-61492788558791173682011-09-27T18:35:00.002-04:002011-09-28T21:52:10.161-04:00

No more peaches. As of September 23rd the peach trees gave out and the local variety took their hiatus until next year. Apples are in and after Christmas the orchard will sell whatever is left and close until the spring. We'll be eating fruit shipped here from elsewhere or frozen, sliced and stuffed into bags.Nothing lasts forever. The summer like days slim down to a few oddly out of place days.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-57052080556817631672011-09-26T18:43:00.001-04:002011-09-28T21:52:43.451-04:00

warmraysof sunremind meof long summer dayswhen daylight lingered into night

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-81507447212412490402011-09-25T18:35:00.002-04:002011-09-28T21:53:35.986-04:00

Blessed bethe sifting of soundsand weaving of wordsto create storiesBlessed bethe thread that windsits way through the taleand finds an ending

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-75286955019024835162011-09-24T23:27:00.008-04:002011-09-28T21:54:09.931-04:00

Who ever heard of writing a book about haying in Montana, where winters are freezing and summers can be torrid? I'm reading such a book and reside in a state of amazement.I grew up in a big city, hardly ever thinking about hay and never thinking about cattle and horses .Actually I did think about horses. Some members of my family loved cowboy movies and Zane Grey books-- and both the movies and

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-86721777175463621552011-09-23T20:24:00.003-04:002011-09-23T20:28:42.020-04:00

We need a definitive hot scale. One pepper, two peppers, three peppers appearing next to a dish needs to be held to the same exacting standards as all other measurements. Ten ounces always equals ten ounces. Even free spirited table tennis aficionados accept 2.74m as the standard length of a table tennis table --with a margin of error "no more than 3mm from that length." No one stands around

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-71803057190588853622011-09-22T18:59:00.004-04:002011-09-22T19:46:15.488-04:00

If you find scraps of paper save them in a shoe box. Peeling wallpaper, telephone book pages, smoldering paper from a fire, lint, old letters, stamps from the time stamps needed licking—save everything. Catalog your findings. Labels from tuna fish cans, recipes written on napkins, crinkled potato chip bags— preserve it all. Collect the detritus of the world and create a collage for posterity.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-56656088221423557762011-09-21T21:53:00.005-04:002011-09-21T22:02:11.898-04:00

IMy words disappeared. They evaporated. I wrote them down and left to get a drink of tomato juice when something unexpected took place. I returned to a blank page, nary a word. I looked under the paper to see if the words were hiding.They simply evaporated. I cannot say any more because my words are too light. They float away. I need to find some gravity for what I write.

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-50732401739653963812011-09-20T10:22:00.002-04:002011-09-20T10:24:20.661-04:00

I'm writing this while watching the clock. Outside a dank rainy day matches my waiting—each drop another second in the count down. Today is my semi-annual dentist appointment. I drag myself in and it's never as fraught with anxiety as I imagine, but then my imagination is also an asset. I imagine myself walking out—free.Growing up the family dentist had an office in my apartment building—ground

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-83840736942393913752011-09-19T21:07:00.007-04:002011-09-19T21:21:54.401-04:00

Whoever heard of a half-hearted fan, one who lasts for half a season and then moves on to the next sport. That's akin to eating a peach, swishing the juice around and then placing the half- eaten peach on the highboy and selecting a nectarine. Then after two bites of that smooth skinned member of the Rosaceae family leaving it on the armoire and sampling a papaya. That's akin to the Medieval

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-82275727270187513202011-09-18T18:58:00.002-04:002011-09-18T19:02:03.982-04:00

I never remember my father either watching or talking about football. He loved basketball and track, but football— "A lot of men dressed in padding pummeling each other." So I grew up in the shadow of Yankee Stadium thinking that football didn't hold a candle to baseball or basketball. In my twenties my next door neighbor loved college football and knew a lingo I never learned. We lived in the

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-13794014951547079452011-09-17T21:39:00.004-04:002011-09-17T21:41:45.096-04:00

Loose paper, notebooks, three-ring binders filled with paper and dividers--all fascinating.My romance with paper began early and continues unabated. I recall owning a black and white wide lined notebook and carefully writing between the lines. The words so contained and measured never touched a line.By middle school I moved on to three-ring notebooks--all sizes. Flimsy paper worked for school,

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-91273016138263480142011-09-16T23:02:00.002-04:002011-09-16T23:05:15.579-04:00

Years ago my next door neighbor Donna clipped newspaper articles before that occupation became obsolete. Now clipping services toggle through thousands of newspapers and magazines for stories that meet your criteria.Donna spent hours each day scanning several dozen newspapers and a ruler high stack of magazines for information pertaining to a client's specific requests. She never read through a

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-50152842915437396972011-09-15T21:40:00.005-04:002011-09-16T23:08:57.999-04:00

I'm celebrating your birthday today even though you're unaware of the celebration or of my peregrinations When most people speak of a journey they conjure up places with exotic names--or at least locations far away from home. Destinations.My journey is between two towns — six miles apart— and two libraries. I stop at my local library  to pick up a book-- ennui prophet by Christopher Kennedy. A

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-85838024497814550972011-09-14T18:24:00.004-04:002011-09-14T18:35:13.131-04:00

I'm a notorious notetaker. When I find a line in a book that I want to keep, I write it in one of my many Moleskin notebooks. Today while reading Gail Caldwell's book lets take the long way home I stopped when I read these words: "...wedded to the sanctity of the familiar."I often take sentences out of their original context— because those particular words or sentences speak to me on an

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-14632260008786964412011-09-13T22:02:00.005-04:002011-09-14T12:04:01.737-04:00

A new store in another town opened several months ago—Dabblers. It carries a bit of this and a bit of that. Art materials, knitting supplies, balsa airplanes, glass making materials—classes for all manner of dabbling. You can even rent a table for an hour to do your own art project. And while you're there—have lunch or coffee at their small eatery.I understand dabbling since that's been my style

marginaliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08863198545271471429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12829103.post-64877131534038938202011-09-12T20:54:00.002-04:002011-09-12T23:14:24.703-04:00

Collecting books—both an art and a mystery. I especially enjoy discovering a book by an author I've never heard of, never read of—someone under my radar. No review to inform me, no book club to tout the book, and no reading at a local bookstore.The book and author may be familiar to someone else, but not to me. I understand why people seek out uncharted places to explore—but not everyone is

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I taught in a middle school in a small community forty miles from Boston. Every September the seventh grade attended a one week nature/science camp three hours away. They slept in dorms, learned new skills, participated in skits, sang songs and engaged in activities meant to bond them together as a group. For some youngsters that week meant a first time away from home. All the seventh grade

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Septemberappears totinga morning chillon her back--headstrong, wanton hussy

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L.L. Bean allows customers the bonanza of returning any item -- irrespective of age or wear. Several years ago I was in line waiting to return several shirts, a pair of jeans, and one belt. None of the items had been worn-- but all were bought five months before --on my last visit to the store. A woman in an adjacent line placed a rather well worn sweater on the counter"What's the problem?"" This

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If everything twirls around and spins, if the whirlpool it generates sends me backwards in time, I'd like to get off at Wolff Trap National Park for the Performing Arts in Vienna, Virginia. Joan Baez is on stage—barefoot and singing protest songs to an appreciative audience. Some people are in seats, but many of the loudest fans found places on the hill. I'm seated on a plaid blanket mesmerized

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