I love things with a wild passion,
extravagantly.
I cherish tongs,
and scissors;
I adore
cups,
hoops,
soup tureens,
not to mention
of course-the hat.
I love
all things,
not only the
grand,
but also the infinite-
ly
small:
the thimble,
spurs,
dishes,
vases.
Oh my soul,
the planet is radiant,
teeming with
pipes
in hand,
conductors
of smoke;
with keys,
saltshakers, and
well,
things crafted
by the human hand, everything -
the curves of a shoe,
fabric,
the new bloodless birth
of gold,
the eyeglasses,
nails,
brooms,watches,compasses, coins, the silken
plushness of chairs
Oh
humans
have constructed
a multitude of pure things:
objects of wood,
crystal,
cord,
wondrous
tables,
ships, staircases
I love
all things,
not because they
might be warm
or fragrant,
but rather because-
I don't know why,
because
the ocean is yours,
and mine:
the buttons,
the wheels,
the little
forgotten
treasures,
the fans
of feathery
love spreading
orange blossoms,
the cups, the knives,
the shears,
everything rests
in the handle, the contour,
the traces
of fingers,
of a remote hand
lost
in the most forgotten of regions of the ordinary obscured.
I pass through houses,
streets,
elevators, touching things;
I glimpse objects
and secretly desire
something because it chimes,
and something else because
because it is as yielding
as gentle hips,
something else I adore for its deepwater hue,
something else for its velvety depths.
Oh irrevocable
river
of things.
People will not
say that I only
loved
fish
or plants of the rain forest or meadow,
that I only
loved
things that leap, rise, sigh, and survive.
It is not true:
many things gave me completeness.
They did not only touch me .
My hand did not merely touch them,
but rather,
they befriended
my existence
in such a way
that with me, they indeed existed
and they were for me so full of life,
that they lived with me half-alive,
and they will die with me half-dead.
by Pablo Neruda
translated by Maria Jacketti and Dennis Maloney
Sunday, March 9, 2008
DILL-icious Dressing
Makes enough for 4 immense salads
Ingredients:
1/2 cup of first cold pressed extra virgin olive oil
1/8 cup honey (I prefer mesquite honey)
1/4 cup dijon mustard
1/8 cup (2 Tbsp) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 Tbsp dried dill (2 Tbsp fresh)
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper
Directions:
Thoroughly mix all ingredients. The dressing will be very viscous and should keep in the refrigerator for four days.
*This dressing is best on a simple salad of baby greens with slivered almonds.
Recipe by Cristina Paul
Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought
Irony of ironies
Today we turned our clocks forward in a national effort to conserve energy. Ostensibly, it makes sense. If we gain an hour of natural daylight, then we pay for and use one less hour of electrical light. NOT SO! Actually, many studies have found that this energy saving measure causes many to use more energy. Air conditioners in the warmer southern states and heaters in colder northern states are the primary culprits for this counter-intuitive use of extra energy. Since most of the extra energy we use is generated by coal-fired power plants, things aren't looking, well, "green". Moreover, the time change has always been pushed by big business. When people have more light after work, they go to the mall or shop. And they don't usually walk there... So the carbon footprint only gets deeper. This daylight "savings" reeks havoc on our circadian rhythms, robbing us of an hour of sleep in spring and cash for the extra use of electricity.
***Fun facts:
Daylight savings was first introduced, temporarily, in the United States during World War I, and then again during World War II. In 1966, it was reintroduced across most of the United States and Canada.
Today we turned our clocks forward in a national effort to conserve energy. Ostensibly, it makes sense. If we gain an hour of natural daylight, then we pay for and use one less hour of electrical light. NOT SO! Actually, many studies have found that this energy saving measure causes many to use more energy. Air conditioners in the warmer southern states and heaters in colder northern states are the primary culprits for this counter-intuitive use of extra energy. Since most of the extra energy we use is generated by coal-fired power plants, things aren't looking, well, "green". Moreover, the time change has always been pushed by big business. When people have more light after work, they go to the mall or shop. And they don't usually walk there... So the carbon footprint only gets deeper. This daylight "savings" reeks havoc on our circadian rhythms, robbing us of an hour of sleep in spring and cash for the extra use of electricity.
***Fun facts:
Daylight savings was first introduced, temporarily, in the United States during World War I, and then again during World War II. In 1966, it was reintroduced across most of the United States and Canada.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
The Day The Hummingbird Stood Still
the bird, landed
the tree, bowstring plucked, hummed
the turtles, reptilian mountains, clambered towards Mecca
the people, words in a line, indented towards public restroom
how the day at the park will be remembered
by Cristina Paul
the tree, bowstring plucked, hummed
the turtles, reptilian mountains, clambered towards Mecca
the people, words in a line, indented towards public restroom
how the day at the park will be remembered
by Cristina Paul
Everything Cookies
Move over everything bagels - these cookies will turn you into toast
Ingredients:
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup (2 sticks) softened unsalted butter
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 tsp light corn syrup
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 cup old fashioned oats (not quick cooking)
Directions:
1. Heat oven to 375 degrees and line 2 cookie sheets with parchment paper.
2. Whisk flour, Salt, baking soda, and baking powder together in a medium bowl; set aside.
3. Cream butter, sugar, vanilla and corn syrup until blended with an electric mixer. Beat in eggs one at a time until combined. Add the dry ingredients and beat at low speed until just combined.
4. Stir in chips, raisins, nuts, and oats with a rubber spatula.
5. Roll dough into 2" rounds and place each ball of dough 2 inches apart on parchment paper.
6. Bake, reversing the position of the cookie sheets halfway through baking. Cookies should just begin to brown. Remove from the oven after 12-16 minutes. Cool cookies on a cool counter or rack on the parchment paper. Nibble to your heart's content.
Recipe by Cristina Paul
Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought
How The Peacock Got Its Eyes: A por quoi tale form Greek mythology
Zeus and Hera, being the over-sexed, quarrelsome couple they were, can be thanked for the beauty of the male peacock's feathers. Zeus was quite fond of women, not only his wife, but also mortals, other immortals, demigods... So when Zeus was frolicking about Greece, getting his fingers in the pudding, Hera kept a close eye upon him. I mean really, nothing compares to ambrosia. One day, jealous Hera spied a suspicious looking thundercloud were no cumulus, stratus, nimbus or other meteorological formation ending in - us should be. She knew something was up. So she swooped down and found Zeus with a lovely ...cow. Yes, Zeus had seen his immortal wife coming and, to protect his mortal wife, Io, from the powerful goddess' wrath, he had transformed her into a ...cow. Wouldn't be my first choice, but to each his own. Nevertheless, this cow was still a dead ringer for the gorgeous Io - I guess a few extra pounds, blotchy skin, and ozone-destroying flatulence couldn't conceal her beauty. Needless to say, Hera wasn't fooled, but she played dumb and begged Zeus to give her the darling little cow. Zeus obliged his wife lest he give himself away. So Hera tied Io to a tree and made her servant Argus watch over her.
Argus had a hundred bright eyes all over his body and was an excellent watchman because he never closed more than half of his eyes at a time - even when he slept (kind of like a dolphin!). Thus, Argus watched Io chew her cud, graze, and do other cow things. But alas, Zeus could stand to see his mortal wife in this ungainly form no longer. He sent Hermes, that little trickster God, to free Io.
Hermes arrived on Earth disguised as a simple shepherd playing a shepherd's pipe. He approached Argus and Argus was pleased to have the company of the shepherd because he had nothing to do with all of his brilliant eyes but watch Io, the cow, do her cow things. So Hermes told Argus a long-winded story with no end in sight. Slowly, half of Argus' eyes began to close. Hermes continued his endless muttering until every one of Argus' eyes fell shut. Quickly, Hermes waved a magic wand to close Argus' hundred eyes permanently - Argus had been bored to death.
Next, Hermes released Io, the cow, but all she could do was "Moo", which made her virtually unrecognizable to her human kin. So she scratched "I-O" in the dirt until some bipeds took notice. Eventually, Hera flew into a rage when she found out that Io had been set free. So she sent a gadfly to chase and sting her. This exhausting chase brought Io all the way to Egypt where the general public was impressed by her snow-white coat and beauty. The Egyptians exalted Io as a goddess and she was eventually allowed to take on her human form again.
However, Hera was still pissed about her loyal servant, Argus. I guess it's always been hard to find good help. To insure that Argus would never be forgotten, she took his hundred bright eyes and emblazoned them on her favorite bird - the peacock. These stunning eyes gave the male bird a massive ego, making it the vainest of all birds.
Moral of the story: Behind every pretty boy is a raging bitch?
Zeus and Hera, being the over-sexed, quarrelsome couple they were, can be thanked for the beauty of the male peacock's feathers. Zeus was quite fond of women, not only his wife, but also mortals, other immortals, demigods... So when Zeus was frolicking about Greece, getting his fingers in the pudding, Hera kept a close eye upon him. I mean really, nothing compares to ambrosia. One day, jealous Hera spied a suspicious looking thundercloud were no cumulus, stratus, nimbus or other meteorological formation ending in - us should be. She knew something was up. So she swooped down and found Zeus with a lovely ...cow. Yes, Zeus had seen his immortal wife coming and, to protect his mortal wife, Io, from the powerful goddess' wrath, he had transformed her into a ...cow. Wouldn't be my first choice, but to each his own. Nevertheless, this cow was still a dead ringer for the gorgeous Io - I guess a few extra pounds, blotchy skin, and ozone-destroying flatulence couldn't conceal her beauty. Needless to say, Hera wasn't fooled, but she played dumb and begged Zeus to give her the darling little cow. Zeus obliged his wife lest he give himself away. So Hera tied Io to a tree and made her servant Argus watch over her.
Argus had a hundred bright eyes all over his body and was an excellent watchman because he never closed more than half of his eyes at a time - even when he slept (kind of like a dolphin!). Thus, Argus watched Io chew her cud, graze, and do other cow things. But alas, Zeus could stand to see his mortal wife in this ungainly form no longer. He sent Hermes, that little trickster God, to free Io.
Hermes arrived on Earth disguised as a simple shepherd playing a shepherd's pipe. He approached Argus and Argus was pleased to have the company of the shepherd because he had nothing to do with all of his brilliant eyes but watch Io, the cow, do her cow things. So Hermes told Argus a long-winded story with no end in sight. Slowly, half of Argus' eyes began to close. Hermes continued his endless muttering until every one of Argus' eyes fell shut. Quickly, Hermes waved a magic wand to close Argus' hundred eyes permanently - Argus had been bored to death.
Next, Hermes released Io, the cow, but all she could do was "Moo", which made her virtually unrecognizable to her human kin. So she scratched "I-O" in the dirt until some bipeds took notice. Eventually, Hera flew into a rage when she found out that Io had been set free. So she sent a gadfly to chase and sting her. This exhausting chase brought Io all the way to Egypt where the general public was impressed by her snow-white coat and beauty. The Egyptians exalted Io as a goddess and she was eventually allowed to take on her human form again.
However, Hera was still pissed about her loyal servant, Argus. I guess it's always been hard to find good help. To insure that Argus would never be forgotten, she took his hundred bright eyes and emblazoned them on her favorite bird - the peacock. These stunning eyes gave the male bird a massive ego, making it the vainest of all birds.
Moral of the story: Behind every pretty boy is a raging bitch?
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Painter
Sitting between the sea and the buildings
He enjoyed painting the sea's portrait.
But just as children imagine a prayer
Is merely silence, he expected his subject
To rush up the sand, and seizing a brush,
Plaster it's own portrait on the canvas.
So there was never any paint on his canvas
until the people who lived in the buildings
put him to work: "Try using the brush
As a means to an end. Select for a portrait,
Something less angry and large, and more subject
To a painter's moods, or perhaps a prayer."
How could he explain to them his prayer
That nature, not art, might usurp the canvas?
He chose his wife for a new subject,
Making her vast, like ruined buildings,
As if, forgetting itself, the portrait
Had expressed itself without a brush.
Slightly encouraged, he dipped his brush
In the sea, murmuring a heartfelt prayer:
"My soul, when I paint this next portrait
Let it be you who wrecks the canvas."
The news spread like wildfire through the buildings:
He had gone back to the sea for his subject.
Imagine a painter crucified by his subject!
Too exhausted to lift his brush,
He provoked some artists leaning from the buildings
To malicious mirth: "We haven't a pryer
Now, of putting ourselves on canvas,
Or getting the sea to sit for a portrait!"
Others declared a self-portrait.
Finally all indications of a subject
Began to fade, leaving the canvas
perfectly white. He put down the brush.
At once a howl, that was also a prayer,
Arose from the overcrowded buildings
They tossed him, the portrait, from the tallest of the buildings;
And the sea devoured the canvas and the brush
As though his subject had decided to remain a prayer.
by John Ashbery
He enjoyed painting the sea's portrait.
But just as children imagine a prayer
Is merely silence, he expected his subject
To rush up the sand, and seizing a brush,
Plaster it's own portrait on the canvas.
So there was never any paint on his canvas
until the people who lived in the buildings
put him to work: "Try using the brush
As a means to an end. Select for a portrait,
Something less angry and large, and more subject
To a painter's moods, or perhaps a prayer."
How could he explain to them his prayer
That nature, not art, might usurp the canvas?
He chose his wife for a new subject,
Making her vast, like ruined buildings,
As if, forgetting itself, the portrait
Had expressed itself without a brush.
Slightly encouraged, he dipped his brush
In the sea, murmuring a heartfelt prayer:
"My soul, when I paint this next portrait
Let it be you who wrecks the canvas."
The news spread like wildfire through the buildings:
He had gone back to the sea for his subject.
Imagine a painter crucified by his subject!
Too exhausted to lift his brush,
He provoked some artists leaning from the buildings
To malicious mirth: "We haven't a pryer
Now, of putting ourselves on canvas,
Or getting the sea to sit for a portrait!"
Others declared a self-portrait.
Finally all indications of a subject
Began to fade, leaving the canvas
perfectly white. He put down the brush.
At once a howl, that was also a prayer,
Arose from the overcrowded buildings
They tossed him, the portrait, from the tallest of the buildings;
And the sea devoured the canvas and the brush
As though his subject had decided to remain a prayer.
by John Ashbery
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