It’s been ages since I’ve finished any sewing projects – mostly because of school, but also because my sewing machine was running a bit rough. Now that school is almost done for the semester, and I had my sewing machine tuned up last week – I have no excuse!
Starting out simply, I recycled some towels that were on the way to nowheresville and used them to back up some bright quilting fabric to make ultra-absorbent dishtowels. And then I added a few straightforward potholders to the mix and voila! New spring linens for the kitchen with a minimum of work and money. This is some slap-dash sewing, but so satisfying to get a project knocked off in under two hours!
“Holding this book in your hand, sinking back in your soft armchair, you will say to yourself: perhaps it will amuse me. And after you have read this story of great misfortunes, you will no doubt dine well, blaming the author for your own insensitivity, accusing him of wild exaggeration and flights of fancy. But rest assured: this tragedy is not a fiction. All is true.”
Le Père Goriot, Honoré de Balzac
“However gross a man may be, the minute he expresses a strong and genuine affection, some inner secretion alters his features, animates his gestures, and colors his voice. The stupidest man will often, under the stress of passion, achieve heights of eloquence, in thought if not in language, and seem to move in some luminous sphere. Goriot’s voice and gesture had at this moment the power of communication that characterizes the great actor. Are not our finer feelings the poems of the human will?”
‘How humiliating,’ he says finally. ‘Such high hopes, and to end like this.’
‘Yes, I agree, it is humiliating. But perhaps that is a good point to start from again. Perhaps that is what I must learn to accept. To start at ground level. With nothing…No cards, no weapons, no property, no rights, no dignity.’
‘Like a dog.’
‘Yes, like a dog.’
An exchange between David Lurie and his daughter Lucy near the end of Disgrace. J.M. Coetzee
I am so close to being finished with the semester. One book away from finishing the reading list (all 29 readings!), 10 pages away from finishing a 15-page paper, one class away from the end! That’s pretty incredible, really – one year of grad school down – but I’m also feeling a bit sad about it because it means the end of my cohort year.
My program is structured so that for the first two semesters, we all attend the same foundation classes as a cohort. Not only that, but the program has built in dinner before class, so we spend that time together each week too (plus drinks after!) It’s a bit unusual in grad studies, but it creates an intensive dynamic, and over the last eight months I have gotten to know a few people really well. While I’m sure that at least a couple of them will remain friends, I also know the cycles of such things: once the group activity ends the group participants scatter. As it should be, but still – who wants to give up the bond we make even with those who grate on us a little?
I’ve got a stack of books for recreational reading (as evidenced by Monday’s post), and I’ve got a stack of books for reviewing, plus I want to start a more regular posting schedule on a few themes – reading, listening, eating, gardening, and love – because these are the explorations most important to me and I want to delve deeper into my writing and reflections thereupon. We’ll see if I can stick to such thematic writing for long – but with grad school out of the way for the summer I’m going to dedicate my Monday’s off to home and writing projects.
Anyhow, that’s all of me at the moment. I’ve got a paper to write and I can’t divert much of my attention to writing even the blog without feeling guilty at the moment. As if all my writing need be channeled into the one thing which needs to get done.
“Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness”
Samuel Beckett
And yes, it is with words Samuel Beckett expresses himself. But I agree anyway. To my aching and overflowing self it seems the world is so much words. So much talking. So much noise between here and there – that we can’t get to the other side of each other and start doing what needs to be done. Working in the service of life. Living in the arms and joys of one another. Resting in the cool shade of what is real.
