With a Side of Lethargy Salad,
Main Course of Ennui.
Favorite childhood summer meals: Mashed potatoes with crispy bits of bacon, buttermilk poured over all; sweet cherry soup, chilled; dill pickle soup, chilled; blueberry pierogi fried in a pan, sprinkled with sugar; endless watermelon slices.
Moving through the damp sponginess of a Chicago summer,
remembering Oprah quote, "If it weren't for the weather, everyone would want to live in Chicago."
I love seeing images of birds incorporated into the artwork of Joseph Cornell and Tony Fitzpatrick.
https://www.google.com/search?q=joseph+cornell+birds&rlz=1C1CHMO_enUS568US568&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjK5_uG87XOAhVELMAKHcHJADwQsAQIHQ&biw=1536&bih=759
https://www.google.com/search?q=tony+fitzpatrick+birds&rlz=1C1CHMO_enUS568US568&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj1rbnT8rXOAhVIBsAKHboJBvIQsAQINw
https://wanelo.com/p/46135115/boho-skirt-shabby-chic-skirt-upcycled-clothing-hippie-skirt-ooak-upcycled-denim-skirt-gypsy-skirt-eclectic-style-altered-couture
Perhaps use oversized men's shirts for the center panels.
One day on the bus to work, I was noticing a flash of white across a man's otherwise sharp shiny green slacks. I whispered my observation to him and suggested he would want to go back home and change. He ruefully recalled playing with his dogs.
Great pleasure and source of disorientation: reading book on bus, getting lost in it. Read Joseph Cornell's Dreams, got off the bus, looked up and say crest ridging circling the perimeter of a tall, clifflike building, silver, gleaming in the sun. Blinked, actually ridging is pigeon prevention spikes. Woke up from enchanted state. Did Dorothy feel this way in Oz?
Dream from book:
October 10, 1967
brace of dreams into a clear
catching a rabbit looking more like a fox
in hand goes to sleep
wakes up close-up
turns into my hand
Main Course of Ennui.
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| Urban jungle. |
Favorite childhood summer meals: Mashed potatoes with crispy bits of bacon, buttermilk poured over all; sweet cherry soup, chilled; dill pickle soup, chilled; blueberry pierogi fried in a pan, sprinkled with sugar; endless watermelon slices.
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| Hot summer. Orange hues of tiger lilies, bulbets from dear friend many years ago; trumpet vine that took eons to get started, no stopping it now; curly willow tree, not in the right place, started from cutting in dumpster-found wedding arrangement; grapevine also not in the right place. |
Moving through the damp sponginess of a Chicago summer,
remembering Oprah quote, "If it weren't for the weather, everyone would want to live in Chicago."
 |
| More orange color, dear daughter's first pet, a zebra finch. |
https://www.google.com/search?q=joseph+cornell+birds&rlz=1C1CHMO_enUS568US568&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjK5_uG87XOAhVELMAKHcHJADwQsAQIHQ&biw=1536&bih=759
https://www.google.com/search?q=tony+fitzpatrick+birds&rlz=1C1CHMO_enUS568US568&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj1rbnT8rXOAhVIBsAKHboJBvIQsAQINw
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Another spot of color courtesy of anonymous birds and young artists I love.
I had a dream this morning just before waking up for real. I was on our back porch, noticed a lot of laundry was missing from the clothesline. Neighbors were moving out next door, truck loaded up. I went after them, noticed one of our sheets hanging out over the side, found more and more, including pillow with my husband's name embroidered on it. Thought, how strange that all this blew down. Neighbor hinted at a fee for reimbursement. Later I thought, hey, did our stuff get stolen?
Getting too big for my britches, or are my britches getting to old to contain butt pressure? Honestly, yes to both. A favorite 20-year old, rayon pair shredded across the seat while I bent over to pick up a clothes pin. Another pair split along the crotch seams. A couple of linen ones are threadbare. I'd like to make a skirt of them. Maybe similar to this:
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Perhaps use oversized men's shirts for the center panels.
One day on the bus to work, I was noticing a flash of white across a man's otherwise sharp shiny green slacks. I whispered my observation to him and suggested he would want to go back home and change. He ruefully recalled playing with his dogs.
Great pleasure and source of disorientation: reading book on bus, getting lost in it. Read Joseph Cornell's Dreams, got off the bus, looked up and say crest ridging circling the perimeter of a tall, clifflike building, silver, gleaming in the sun. Blinked, actually ridging is pigeon prevention spikes. Woke up from enchanted state. Did Dorothy feel this way in Oz?
Dream from book:
October 10, 1967
brace of dreams into a clear
catching a rabbit looking more like a fox
in hand goes to sleep
wakes up close-up
turns into my hand
 |
| Happy summer, may it be dreamy. |
5 comments:
Pickle soup? That's a new one to me. Watermelon and tiger lilies struck a chord with me; I grew up in the sticky heat of an Oklahoma City suburb. Thanks for visiting my blog!
Ahh, thank YOU for visiting. My ideal weather would be overcast, cool, drizzly year-round.
Yes, just arrived home from a motor home vacation in Germany, where we went for hot, sunny weather. I can't face the endless cold and wet of a Northern English winter unless I've had at least a bit of summer. We caught the ferry back from Amsterdam. Sat baking in the humid heat, waiting to load up the ferry (vast planning involved as the enormous ship carries dozens of big 18-wheelers as well as dozens of motor homes, cars with caravans, cars w/o caravans, foot passengers, cyclists and loads of motorcyclists; I panicked the first time I saw all this, positive the ship would sink!). As we pulled in to dock this morning everyone was complaining of the cool, misty weather but I found it quite refreshing. Only got chilled as the sun disappeared. Now about to settle in for autumn, shorter days, get out the long underwear, etc.
Vacation sounds lovely except for the worrying ferry part.
There's a Polish saying, everywhere is good, but home is the best.
Totally agree with that sentiment!
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