Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Cocoon Weekend


While Jim was away in San Francisco this past weekend at the gothic art circus, I sort of cocooned for 72 hours to write. I left the house once, to go to the grocery store, and I did do some nesting-type things, like put up some little stockings and fold some paper stars from a kit from this company (who I love-love-love) -- those are the 8-pointed stars in the pictures. But mostly, it was a real pleasure to have nothing to do but write! I wore a scarf and leg warmers around the house and looked like a hobo clown in my polka-dot fleece pants. When the pizza delivery girl came to the door I took off my knit cap and brushed my hair a little, because when you're home alone for a few days you can let yourself look a little weird, and I didn't want to scare her!

But Jim is home now, with interesting tales of artist models flying overhead on trapezes, and metrosexual pirates philosophizing at microphones -- sounds like a very interesting event!

Now, for lack of anything fascinating to say for myself, I'm swiping a quote from [a}ma {m]iz, who in turn swiped it from Ted Kooser, about revising:

You can learn to love tinkering with drafts of poems till a warm hand from somewhere above you reaches down, unscrews the top of your head, and drops in a solution that blows your ears off. Sure, there are plenty of days when nothing good happens, days when every word you write seems silly and shallow, when your revisions seem to be dragging your poems in the wrong direction. But you need to be there writing and waiting, as a hunter might say, for that hour when at last the ducks come flying in. To say it more simply, in the words of a painter friend, you just need to "show up for work."

Oh, and if you read my last post about the world's tallest man saving the dolphins and wanted to see what the world's tallest man looks like, here you go. He's a herdsman from inner Mongolia. I love the thought of that, I don't know why. I love the image, the words "inner Mongolia," the vision of windswept plains and windswept horsemen.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful week of last-minute shopping, maybe baking, seeing movies, sipping cider, making snow angels, and all good things!

14 comments:

jennifer said...

Love the stars Laini!

I like the pic of the tallest man, I had read about him before! Chico eats plastic so I am thinking of training Camille .. while she is short.. to fetch plasic from small animals mouths too! It could be a great side income for her! :)

Terri /Tinker said...

Thanks for the links, Laini - the Insomania event sounds interesting.
Thanks for the pic of China's tallest man. I love that our world is still so diverse that there are herdsmen wandering the plains of inner Mongolia!
I also cracked up at the idea of you meeting the pizza delivery girl in your polka-dotted pjs and leg-warmers. I thought I was the only one who did that!

Alexandra S said...

oh my gosh! He is SO tall that I forgot everything you wrote before that! How is it possible to be that tall??? I wonder what his exact height is! (You can put that in your nextpost. (Your blog can become a news site for his various facts and whereabouts!) You ordered pizza over the weekend all by your lonesome? That sounds very exciting to have a whole pizza to yourself! I didn't detect in any of my check-in phone calls that you were up to such mischief. And I LOVE that TEd Kooser quote. I had the longest writing stretch yesterday that I have had in months and it felt so good! (The writing was stinky but it didn't even matter!)

Tom Bailey said...

I read through some of your old postings and I really like your blog. This is my first visit and you write very well.

http://sms100.blogspot.com/

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sophie said...

I love this post - and the
pinwheels are so vintage
and colorful and delightful-
i am going to see if i can
order some -
i have a writing quote to share
from "the Writing Life"
(hope it fits:)

One line of a poem, the poet said- only one line, but thank God for that one line-drops from the ceiling....one line of a sonnet falls from the ceiling, and you tap in the others around it with a jewellers hammer. Nobody whispers it in your ear. It is like something you memorized once and forgot. Now it comes back and rips away your breath."


oh and this one too...

"the sensation of writing a book is the sensation of spinning, blinded by love and daring.
"At it's best, the sensation of writing is that of any unmerited
grace. It is handed to you, but only if you look for it.
You search, you break your heart, your back, your brain, and then -
and only then - it is handed to you."

(sigh)

love the picture of the friendly
giant with the lovely hands.

deirdre said...

One of the things I loved about my single years was that I could wear mis-matched warm clothes at home without a worry someone might see me and be horrified. Sounds like you cocooned quite well. Love the stars - I'll have to look at the website. I've never really thought about Inner Mongolia - my sister and I always talked about moving to Outer Mongolia without a phone. It was the farthest away we could imagine.

ceanandjen said...

This sounds like a fantastic way to spend a long weekend...the alone time, the scarf, the leggings, the stars...and the pizza!!!

Left-handed Trees... said...

Sounds like a perfect writer's retreat--right in your own place. I don't know if its the weather or what, but I find myself shunning the cafe where I usually go, to sit at my old rickety kitchen table. Hibernation? Beautiful quote from Kooser--I need to hold it close to me a while.
--D.--

Sophie said...

i'm enjoying a cocoon day. Lovely to unwind like this ones in a while, isn't?! :)

Amber said...

I love the paper star. Cute cute cute.

Um...I pretty much dress like that everyday. LOL! Ah, the life of a stay at home mommy...



:)

[a}ma said...

your xmas decorations adorable and whimsically wonderful! the word "Mongolia" makes me want to paint mountain scenes.

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