these days, it's been getting cold, prompting us to pull down the wool blankets and exchange the cotton sheets for flannel. ever since our mattress warranty claim was settled and we got the brand new oh-so luxurious replacement mattress, we've been spending A LOT of time in bed. we climb in early at night, where we finish our days out together, and i stay in bed as long as possible in the morning after andrew leaves for work, drinking coffee and starting work from beneath the layers of blankets as i snuggle with the animals. i swear that they conspire to keep me there.
these days, i've been doing my work from the dining room table (when i'm not in bed, that is). it's a large, unfinished pine wood space overlooking the kitchen and beside the sliding balcony doors that look out onto the backyard. i draw the curtains to let the light in and i draw them to shut out the dark. the heavy cotton floral curtains given to us from my wonderful mother-in-law. they are like an embodiment of her: traditional with a modern flair, rustic, whimsy, beautiful, spirited. being in their company makes me feel loved, safe, and ever-inspired.
these days, i have been focusing almost single-mindedly on my dissertation project (almost, because there are of course endless distractions that keep me from absolute devotion to my work and thus from full productivity). i find my mind wandering, dreaming, and thinking about all the things.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.
(Nico, "These Days")
i spread my projects and desires across the surface of the wood table from which i work, but even as i actively so so - all day, every day, day in & day out - there are always things i never get to. i drink cups of lady grey tea and stage still lives. i play with the cats and take their portraits. i collect books for research and books for pleasure, for moments of rapture and escape, for moments often overlooked or forgotten. i am distracted by my surroundings; in a room of my own.
these days, i muse about having a real digital SLR camera, but for now i make do with my old Nikon point-and-shoot, my iPhone, and the brilliant editing software designed by Visual Supply Co.
these days, i muse about having a real digital SLR camera, but for now i make do with my old Nikon point-and-shoot, my iPhone, and the brilliant editing software designed by Visual Supply Co.
portraits of the majestic, stoic, and ever-handsome, Dr. Hunter S. Thomcat. he's been a little displeased that Glasgow has been stealing all the attention here lately. he's also developed some slight attitude problems adjusting to the new kitten (jealous? inconceivable!), so i thought i would give him a prominent spot here. he has been such a central part of our lives over the past six years, he really does deserve it.
the joys of adopting a young kitten: they're ever-so sweet but also full of SO MUCH TROUBLE. introducing, for the first time, Little Miss Virginia Woolf. she's slowly finding her place in the family and even gets to participate in group snuggles in the morning now.
this week i posted about the early morning and my new relationship to it. as difficult as it can be to get out of bed some mornings, the beauty that awaits is always worth it. yesterday morning's frost was truly exquisite, making the whole yard glow with a white frosted mist warmed by the golden sun.
still lives:
1. andrew has been bringing home lots of moose antler sheds from the bush lately, adding to our ever-growing collection. this particular white-tailed deer skull and antlers is one that we brought back from Alberta two years ago. it has been hanging around the past couple weeks waiting for us to hang it on the wall, but i have been enjoying its company.
2. sweet little Herriott Grace cake flags leftover from our wedding + a gorgeous knitted short-sleeve shirt, made in Canada, that i recently thrifted.
3. lady grey tea in one of my favourite vintage teacups and an old teapot from my Nana. perfection.
collected works:
1. good night, day: modern & minimalist knitting patterns, by tara-lynn morrison. first edition.
2. A Pictorial History of Wilderness, poems by Laressa Dickey & published by MIEL.
3. Penguin Books "Great Ideas" edition of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own.
4. The Anatomy of Clay, poems by Gillian Sze.
5. issue no.1 of Sad Girls, a lovely little illustrated zine made by girls who make things and have lots of feelings.
6. A Guide to the Northwest Territory, poems by Josh Wallaert, also from MIEL.
collected works no.2 (on hysteria):the joys of adopting a young kitten: they're ever-so sweet but also full of SO MUCH TROUBLE. introducing, for the first time, Little Miss Virginia Woolf. she's slowly finding her place in the family and even gets to participate in group snuggles in the morning now.
this week i posted about the early morning and my new relationship to it. as difficult as it can be to get out of bed some mornings, the beauty that awaits is always worth it. yesterday morning's frost was truly exquisite, making the whole yard glow with a white frosted mist warmed by the golden sun.
still lives:
1. andrew has been bringing home lots of moose antler sheds from the bush lately, adding to our ever-growing collection. this particular white-tailed deer skull and antlers is one that we brought back from Alberta two years ago. it has been hanging around the past couple weeks waiting for us to hang it on the wall, but i have been enjoying its company.
2. sweet little Herriott Grace cake flags leftover from our wedding + a gorgeous knitted short-sleeve shirt, made in Canada, that i recently thrifted.
3. lady grey tea in one of my favourite vintage teacups and an old teapot from my Nana. perfection.
1. good night, day: modern & minimalist knitting patterns, by tara-lynn morrison. first edition.
2. A Pictorial History of Wilderness, poems by Laressa Dickey & published by MIEL.
3. Penguin Books "Great Ideas" edition of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own.
4. The Anatomy of Clay, poems by Gillian Sze.
5. issue no.1 of Sad Girls, a lovely little illustrated zine made by girls who make things and have lots of feelings.
6. A Guide to the Northwest Territory, poems by Josh Wallaert, also from MIEL.
1. Aura Hysterica: Les exercises de la passion (1992), an artist's book by Montreal artist Nicole Jolicoeur.
2. Georges Didi-Huberman's The Invention of Hysteria: Charcot and the Photographic Iconography of the Salpêtrière.
3. The Hysterical Alphabet, text by Terri Kapsalis with drawings by Gina Litherland.
4. Nicole Jolicoeur's Traité de la perfection (1996).
