Showing posts from June, 2016

Summer Diaries: Alain de Botton on Love at Cooper Union

Summer is officially here and it is a little ironic that it dawned on a Monday. Or is it a (imagine the next word in a soft creepy whisper) sign? Let's say it is a sign, and let's say it means all must go wild. But the definition of wild is, of course, not universal. Now that I have stopped trying to do things, I am actually having some fun. And something fun happened recently. I went to Cooper Union to hear Alain de Botton. He is on a book tour for his new novel, The Course of Love, which I now own a copy of. I'm looking forward to reading it along with the other ten or so books I mean to read this summer...four of which I have already begun. I surprised myself when I bought the novel. The whole time I was on that long line, first the wrong one, then the right one, I kept thinking I can't believe I am buying. It was supposed to be a free event; costing me only my MetroCard. Hmph!

Waiting on line to make my purchase, I met this dude who was really easy to talk to. He …

Poetry: Lai with Sounds of Skin by Chryss Yost

Lai With Sounds of Skin
by Chryss Yost

Shall we dress in skin,
our living linen?
bone weft,
pull of masculine
into feminine,
the heft,
the warp, weave and spin
of carded days in

tightly-twisted thin
yarns that we begin––
like wool
like will, like has been,
spoken to silken––
to spool:
thick bolts of linen,
skin to skein to skin.


Photography: Reading Grounds

Head down        from concrete to vivacity - Jane

Theory: Self-Limitation Via Fear of Appearing Pretentious

In today's culture, many things that we do not know how to appreciate, but deem unworthy of our preciously busy time is pretentious. We proclaim pretentious that which makes us doubt our intelligence. And yet what is humanity if not the epitome of pretentiousness? If you let this question simmer a little you may come to the realization that to be deemed pretentious is not necessarily a bad thing. It can be a very good sort of critique. Now, try eavesdropping on conversations or pay more attention to your own. You will immediately notice how much we tend to inflate the "I." If I should ask, how are you today? You may tell me that you woke up and went for a good run, then had an amazing breakfast. Now if I should respond that your answer is pretentious, you might find my comment surprisingly unfair. But is not the belief that "we do things," pretentious? How can you say "you woke up" as if you had the means to do so? As if you could have decided to die…

Personal Style: My Dream Arabian Shirt Dress

Perhaps for the rest of the world, although it is very hard to believe, there is no such thing as an Arabian day/nightshirt dress. But not only did it once exist primarily in my imagination, it now exists in my wardrobe. You are seeing here a photo of myself in it. A super soft white cotton shirt which one can sleep in, wear about the house in bare feet, wear out either day or night and enjoy its teases by the wind It had only ceased raining, about two hours, when I shot this. The problem with the dream Arabian shirt dress is that when it gets warmer, I usually have to let long sleeves alone. My body fathoms itself an underground stream of sorts, and loves to flood my clothes, especially under my arms. Although the prints it makes are incredible, they are not the sort of art that is very cool to share with others. But I found this awesome antiperspirant, Certain Dri (works like magic!), and now I not only have my wonderful dream shirt but can wear it, too. Hashtag WOOT. And if you li…

Summer Diary: Queuing for Shakespeare in the Park

Last summer I came up with a summer to do list owing to lack of motivation to do anything that required leaving home. The idea was that the list would force me to get out more and not spend the entire summer working on my small handmade business which was really all I wanted to do. But this summer I feel differently and have been leaving things to happen more naturally. Summer started the day after graduation––it may not have the blessing of the calendar year but that is alright. So far, I have been riding on the side of amazing luck. Tell me it is not lucky to have seen three plays for free; just when I was about to start groaning about how life, so unfair, would not allow me! to see a little play now and if not then, to oh-and-ah, laugh a little, and maybe cry a little for the reflected self in the cast. Then before I knew it I was seeing all these plays and was like, oh woman! But I want to tell you about my little thing with Shakespeare in the Park.

What I love most about the Pub…

Poetry: From Purgatorio by Dante Alighieri

The Love of the Good

   And he to me: "The love of the good, falling
short of what is right, is here restored; here they
ply and ply again the oar they did ill to slow.
   But that you may yet more clearly understand,
turn your mind to me, and you will take some
good fruit from our delay.
   Neither Creator nor creature ever," he began,
"son, has been without love, whether natural or of
the mind, and this you know.
   Natural love is always unerring, but the other
can err with an evil object or with too much or too
little vigor.
   As long as it is directed to the first Good and
moderates its love of lesser goods, it cannot be a
cause of evil pleasure,
   but when it turns aside to evil, or when with
more eagerness or less than is right it runs after
some good, it employs his creature against the
   Hence you can comprehend that love must be
the seed in you of every virtue and of every action
that deserves punishment.
   Now because love can never turn its fac…

Photography: Realism in Love

You               are 
for hands in climb   - Jane

Theory: Loneliness

Sometime ago I visited an old  friend. I had been trying to meet with him for ages but he would not see me, then one rainy evening he texted and I run to see him. He talked of having been depressed and feelings of loneliness. At 45, he felt he wanted wife and maybe children. He said he now played his string instrument more often to save himself from despair. As I listened closely, I perceived him as a fellow human, not the mentor I once held on a pedestal. I remember boasting to him that I did not suffer loneliness. I told him of my numerous interests that kept me distracted. He tried to tell me that he had been in a similar way, but regrets now. As I approach the late summer of my life, the idea of loneliness is now frequent to my thoughts. It is, however, beginning to seem that I have always been lonely and will always be lonely. Yet I have not known loneliness as despair, but rather as the sting of an unfamiliar need. A need I could not translate as it spoke a language that seemed…

Personal Style: Under Cap and Gown

For this graduation, I was all business. It took less than half an hour to fix my hair and about five minutes to dress up. I found this awesome summer dress for $15! and I was like why the heck not? I mean, can't a girl buy a dress every now and then? Okay, so I ended up buying seven new dresses, but still! It's not every day that one graduates, you know?  And this, you see, is my new excuse to misbehave. *_* One of my earrings is an old gift from Mother, and the other from Grandmother. The sandals is my first snake-skin anything. The purpose is to work on overcoming a lifelong phobia.
My dearest best-est friend, India, came not only to my graduation but was good enough to take my photos and since I was being a tyrant the entire time, shouting commands on how she ought to frame me, she cut pieces off of me. But I am so glad because what are friends for, if not to cut off your feet and elbows in photos?! 
Have a beautiful week-END! ^_^

Grad School Diary: Final Entry

I know not how long I have known the feeling that all is passing. It feels like it has been with me forever. And yet I do not know how to easily let go of that which affects me strongly. As I grow and wonder, with less fear, about my expiration and with more curiosity about where, how, and state of being when I run into cessation, my embrace of the belief that I do not know becomes stronger. Maybe like St. Augustine says, we know but have forgotten; in which case to live as truthfully as one can is the process of remembering. But where am I going? How can I know now what I have never known before? What is next? How can I answer when I know I do not really know what ought to be next? How can I say I know what I want when I have come to know what I believe myself in want of, in gaining proves insufficient? I see that I have to accept my blindness, so to see that which I am blind to. If I am constantly learning that I need what I thought I did not care for, how can I pretend or lie that…

Poetry: On His Blindness by John Milton

On His Blindness
by John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent
     E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,
     And that one Talent which is death to hide,
     Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
     My true account, least he returning chide,
     Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,
     I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
     Either man's work or his own gifts, who best
     Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
     And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:
     They also serve who only stand and waite.