CTA TRAIN DRIVER: Attention, passengers. If you look to the right of the train, you will see a rainbow in the air. Again, rainbow to the right of the train.
Volunteered at the Printer’s Row Lit Fest this past weekend. Very fun to be involved but did not catch too many of the cool events like Dave Eggers’ speech or Neil Gaiman’s award ceremony. I did manage to see the beginning of the panel with Elizabeth Strout and Elizabeth Berg, which I got one blurry shot of before my camera died.
Elizabeth Strout (far left) just recently received the Pulitzer in fiction for her amazing book, Olive Kitteridge, which I loved. I was looking at how short stories are linked together in novel form just around the time the book came out, and it was a perfect and beautiful read, thirteen short stories that all revolve around Olive Kitteridge.
Was hoping to find a podcast or video of the panel but so far, no luck. I did find author interivew about the book by Victoria Lautman, which also made me mad because I’d forgotten about the Writers on Record series I could have gone to see many times. I was looking for the Printer’s Row interview because I think she said something about all of us being universes, gliding past each other, and it reminded me of something Junot Diaz said in a Newsweek article last year:
All of us, to misquote Whitman, we all contain multitudes. I think more specifically, we all contain univereses. It doesn’t matter who you are. Your could be some guy who writes code in Mumbai for a major corporation or you could be a truck driver in Cincinnati. But in the end, none of that means that the whole universe isn’t contained inside you.
- Junot Diaz
And interestingly enough, Diaz won the Pulitzer in fiction last year.
If you want another corrollating quote about universes and worlds, here’s another one from Salman Rushdie:
I no longer wanted to be anything except what who I am. Who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each ‘I,’ every one of the now six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world.
- Midnight’s Children, Salman Rushdie
Saw my first (one-act) play on stage last night at the Gorilla Tango Theater as part of the 24 Hour Plays Chicago series.
Here is a picture of people leaving the theater.
Everyone met on Saturday, May 30, and the writers (me and four others) stayed behind to write our one-acts from 5:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. The actors and directors then put it all together on Sunday, and I saw it on stage Monday.
Expected to be nervous and excited and therefore cross-eyed as I usually am when my work is being read by myself or others, but I was really more caught up with the actors and how they presented the material, how it was changed or enhanced. Also happened to sit right behind my director, who did an awesome job, so it was great to meet him and hear his thoughts.
All the scripts were great and the actors put so much energy into the costumes and the performances. Very cool to be a part of it.
I think the best part was the exuberance after the show. At the end of a short story (which, for me, was usually around 8 a.m. a few hours before it was due), there was nothing but tears and hunger and blood and exhaustion. But at the end of the production there were hugs and smiles and congratulations.
As well as post-show snacks.
Check out that turtle split.
“And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous.”
-Toni Morrison, Sula
Writers need to create. When they’re not writing, they’re cooking or baking or creating something else, like danger. You hear a lot about writers being tormented when they have no way to express their art, when they are not writing, but falling into depression because of writer’s block. And you hear the affirmative versions, too—writers write because they have to, you’ll know you’re a writer if you never stop writing
I’m not sure if that’s all true, but this winter when I was not doing much writing, I did knit two scarves and half a glove, learn how to make some new dishes*, and pay $150 to paint plates and apples.
But I really did enjoy all of that. Except for the painting class, because painting plates in monochrome, as it turns out, is incredibly boring. But overall, it felt good learning to create other things besides writing.
There are so many ways to create, whether it is cooking, or engineering, or hypothesizing science experiments. I think there is an integral need in all of us to be creative, and an essential joy we derive from our creations. But I wonder where it all comes from.
If we, humans, were created in the image of a Creator, perhaps it is something we have inherited. And all those beautiful, genius ideas of art and music belong to that spiritual realm. And, much as Elizabeth Gilbert explores in this TED talk, on rare occasions, we tap into that genius, we receive a muse, we create something beautiful, and we are briefly touched by a spark of something bigger than ourselves.
Or, going the opposite direction, perhaps we, as a group that is driven to create, are naturally drawn to the mystery of our own creation. And that is why endless creation myths have been passed down from generation to generations, why science seeks to dissect and clone life. Isn’t life, after all, the greatest creation?
What do you think? And anyone have any interesting studies on creativity?
*curry shrimp, chocolate mint cookies, potato and broccoli soup, quinoa chili, grape leaves, Spanish rice, honey walnut shrimp, black sesame soup, quiche, almond tofu, beet salad, tabbouli salad, etc.
Saw this piece of wall art at an exhibit called “Inquire Within: Soul Searching and Truth Seeking by Artists with Disabilities. Wasn’t sure about the camera policy, but it was gorgeous so I clicked the button. It’s very large in real size and was pr0bably the first thing that caught my eye. Have been thinking of it since.
Fifty books for 2009.
1. Watchmen, Alan Moore
2. The Enchantress of Florence, Salman Rushdie
3. Home, Marilynne Robinson
4. Middlesex, Jeffrey Eugenides (can’t believe I haven’t read it yet)
5. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers
6. Pride and Promiscuity, Arielle Eckstut and Dennie Ashton (Jane Austen sex parody; heard about it once in English class, looking for it since)
7. The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz (should have read it when it came out)
8. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, Yiyun Li (it came strongly recommended)
9. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (a reread, but I never appreciated Fitzgerald enough before)
10. The Ear, the Eye and the Arm, Nancy Farmer (I remember listening to it in sixth grade, hating the beginning and loving the end)
11. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami
12. The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan (I feel like a hypocrite every time I talk about gender studies)
13. If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino (he’s been on my list forever)
14. Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys (also recommended)
15. No One Belongs Here More Than You, Miranda July (I love her last name)
16. The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman
17. Unaccustomed Earth, Jhumpa Lahiri
18. Perfect Fifths, Megan McCafferty (I’m kind of devoted, and this one really, really is the last one)
19. The Likeness, Tana French (it has a great cover and a creepy plot)
20. Underworld, Don Delillo
21. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon
22. Revolutionary Road, Richard Yates (because I must confess I have never read Yates)
23. Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert
24. The Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie
25. Beloved, Toni Morrison (can’t believe I still haven’t read this one)
26. The Periodic Table, Primo Levi
27. Blindness, Jose Saramango (I can finish it. I’m so close)
28. The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton (I do like her short stories)
29. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll
30. Witchery, Amber Benson (I just have to)
31. White Teeth, Zadie Smith
32. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert (I don’t read enough non-fiction)
33. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (it’s been a while since I’ve read any short stories)
Break: This is getting harder than I expected. I thought there were so many books on my list. There should be.
34. Tender is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald
35. Speak, Memory, Vladimir Nabokov
36. Perfume, Patrick Suskind
37. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen
38. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace (why not?)
39. The Uglies, Scott Westerfeld
40. Coraline, Neil Gaiman
41. A Great and Terrible Beauty, Libba Bray
42. King of the Screwups, A.L. Going
43. Inexcusable, Chris Lynch
(HOW is this so HARD?)
44. Grace Eventually, Anne Lamott
45. Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer
46. The Crimson Petal and the White, Michael Faber
47.
48.
49.
50.
I’m leaving the last five blank for anything that comes up later. So there.
I’ll get through maybe ten of these.
Fifty books for 2009.
1. Watchmen, Alan Moore
2. The Enchantress of Florence, Salman Rushdie
3. Home, Marilynne Robinson
4. Middlesex, Jeffrey Eugenides (can’t believe I haven’t read it yet)
5. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers
6. Pride and Promiscuity, Arielle Eckstut and Dennie Ashton (Jane Austen sex parody; heard about it once in English class, looking for it since)
7. The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz (should have read it when it came out)
8. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, Yiyun Li (it came strongly recommended)
9. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (a reread, but I never appreciated Fitzgerald enough before)
10. The Ear, the Eye and the Arm, Nancy Farmer (I remember listening to it in sixth grade, hating the beginning and loving the end)
11. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami
12. The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan (I feel like a hypocrite every time I talk about gender studies)
13. If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino (he’s been on my list forever)
14. Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys (also recommended)
15. No One Belongs Here More Than You, Miranda July (I love her last name)
16. The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman
17. Unaccustomed Earth, Jhumpa Lahiri
18. Perfect Fifths, Megan McCafferty (I’m kind of devoted, and this one really, really is the last one)
19. The Likeness, Tana French (it has a great cover and a creepy plot)
20. Underworld, Don Delillo
21. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon
22. Revolutionary Road, Richard Yates (because I must confess I have never read Yates)
23. Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert
24. The Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie
25. Beloved, Toni Morrison (can’t believe I still haven’t read this one)
26. The Periodic Table, Primo Levi
27. Blindness, Jose Saramango (I can finish it. I’m so close)
28. The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton (I do like her short stories)
29. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll
30. Witchery, Amber Benson (I just have to)
31. White Teeth, Zadie Smith
32. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert (I don’t read enough non-fiction)
33. Selected Stories, Alice Munro (it’s been a while since I’ve read any short stories)
Break: This is getting harder than I expected. I thought there were so many books on my list. There should be.
34. Tender is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald
35. Speak, Memory, Vladimir Nabokov
36. Perfume, Patrick Suskind
37. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen
38. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace (why not?)
39. The Uglies, Scott Westerfeld
40. Coraline, Neil Gaiman
41. A Great and Terrible Beauty, Libba Bray
42. King of the Screwups, A.L. Going
43. Inexcusable, Chris Lynch
(HOW is this so HARD?)
44. Grace Eventually, Anne Lamott
45. Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer
46. The Crimson Petal and the White, Michael Faber
47. The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman
48. The Little Stranger, Sarah Waters
49.
50.
I’m leaving the last five blank for anything that comes up later. So there.
I’ll get through maybe ten of these.
Vegetable art.
Goat cheese and thyme potato medallions.
Colorful pizza with 1/3 pepperoni, 1/3 vegetarian sausage, yellow red and green peppers, and bits of goat cheese. Pre-oven baking.Dear Blog,
Although I have a history of carelessness and negligence with my blogs, I am ready to change my ways and settle down, with you. With the blogosphere as my witness, today I make a commitment to you.
I confess that in my laziness, I do not like to post pictures, create links or really, just blog. I am fickle and temperamental. A trail of broken and abandoned blogs precede you. But on this leaf-turning day, I promise to update you, prettify you and introduce you to others. In productivity and in writer’s-block, through the good posts and the bad posts, until global warming do us part.
It’s you and me, Blog.
