five more days

-- the barking of a dog. autumnal burnings. five more days of summer.

image found here

graphotherapy

There are many types of therapy that would be appropriate for me, dear reader, but this September I am embarking on the great graphotherapy project.

Graphotherapy, the behavioral science that invites the writer to take pen in hand and change self-defeating aspects of the personality by altering specific strokes in the handwriting. Graphotherapists are trained in graphology and have additional training in psychology. Their expertise is to guide the client in altering handwriting patterns as a means of removing negative thought habits and replacing them with positive, self-supportive ones. By changing writing patterns we simultaneously reconfigure the neuropathways in the brain that record our self-image.

I write in the kind of printing we all learned in elementary school. Uppercase letters occur at the beginning of sentences and in other appropriate places; there are also lowercase letters. This is called upper-and lowercase printing. u &lc for short. My writing looks very much like the lines you are reading. Guess what the graphotherapist has to say about this, "Printing is a shield usually put in place by a sensitive soul who has been betrayed in one way or another and isn't about to let that happen again. Printing keeps people at a distance by creating a boundary. The u&lc printer has erected a wire fence around himself... If you want to tap into your creativity in a big way, begin now and again to connect a letter or two within your words." *

What about you? Are you a dedicated pencil user, or do you prefer a felt-tip pen? Does your writing slant back, vertical, or forward? Do you have zonal balance? Angles and curves? Or are you a printer like me?

*Your handwriting can change your life by Vimala Rodgers

Image here

WschodKsiezyca

The moon is like a clean, fragrant body. Sound asleep, it gives off a seductive smell. A night is pressed on either side by two days. Between them all, the dark circles around your eyes stay joyful.


A stanza from a poem I read years ago. If anyone knows the author, you would save me from being haunted by the feeling that I can just almost remember it… It’s beautiful, I think. Please excuse the dabbling in Polish. If I had time, I would study it alongside French.



Image is Moonrise by Stanislaw Maslowski

coq au vin

Feeling extravagant this evening, I decided to start preparations for a dinner of coq au vin. I wondered to myself if it was a bit too early. It's not really Fall yet. But Tadzio is back in school, the weather is cool, and at least one of my co-workers has the swine flu. Fall is here, ce n'est pas? It's time for me to drag my boots and coat out of the closet. Time for me to convince Przemek to read Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain with me, one or two chapters per week. Przemek has been reading this book for twenty years, but has never finished it.

Coq au vin is a dish that amuses me to no end. It's simple and delicious, and I get to empty a whole bottle of red wine into our dutch oven. I like to prepare it with game hens. The sweet man in the deli section searched high and low for hens, but only located a goose. It is too early. It's not really Autumn. I do have a recipe for braised goose with white wine and coffee, but I'm saving it for later this year.

Anyway, this evening I was in search of much smaller fowl. Finally, sweetly, the man in the deli section found some frozen hens in the freezer and I was on my way.

Image via wet behind the ears

a season in the life

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Anyway, we were serious about the decision to move to Canada. Not tomorrow, but in the next five years. This afternoon I'm flipping through How to Move To Canada: A Primer for Americans. It is a delightful, practical book. This, I would argue, is a practical dream. My favorite part of the book is the section labeled "Where to Move in Canada." It runs two-hundred pages long, and begins, "If you're serious about moving to Canada and trying to decide where to live, this section of the book will get you started."

And because I think about life in terms of books, I'm also thumbing through my copy of A Season In the Life of Emmanuel by Marie-Claire Blais. I stumbled across this author years ago on a lonely winter evening spent in my local library. I was enchanted by her voice and the descriptions of snowy Quebec City. Somehow, her writing is all wrapped up in my mind with the idea of going north. This, I will admit, is not practical. Here are a few pages from her beautiful notebooks.











Notebook images found here

midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

- Yeats, The Lake Isle of Innisfree

We are off to natural hot springs, a cabin in the woods, and the ocean. This is the magic of living in the Pacific Northwest. When we return it will be time to think about preparing Tadzio for another year at the French school, navy blue uniforms, and whether or not to sign up for that poetry class.

Take care in these last days of summer.

Image by Marc Bordons via Feaverish Photography

what you know

Sometimes you need to deliberate before reaching a decision. But there are instances when the choices are clear and you know at once what to do. Trust yourself; you are wise, indeed, when you decide...

... to start from scratch

... to wait till morning

... to eat fish at night

... to keep a secret

... to ask a question

... to let it go

... to be quiet and listen

... to stay home because you are tired

... to go the distance

... to dress up for the occasion

... to keep a low profile

... to get a massage

... to reread a book

Veronique Viens "The Art of the Moment"

Image by Miranda Lehman via Feaverish Photography

Ça ne va pas être de la tarte

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Each week, Chocolate and Zucchini features a French idiomatic expression that relates to food. An expression I learned earlier this summer is, "Ce n'est pas de la tarte." Approximately translated as, "it's not pie," it means that something is tricky, difficult to do or to handle. Because it is a colloquial expression that is mostly spoken, it is usually elided to, "C'est pas de la tarte."

I'm thinking of this expression tonight as I try to learn French in earnest. Ça ne va pas être de la tarte. It won't be pie. Especially with a three-year-old riding in the back of the car correcting your accent...

photos from moscow

Enough fretting. Friends help with these heavy feelings. Riding one's bicycle helps. So does a new dress. Also, Sasha Nikitin's photography makes my mood lighten. So sweet and so Russian.

More from Sasha here