Saturday, June 2, 2012
I also bought various vegetables to make a farmstand stew today, with basil-walnut-pesto. And black raspberries, that are sweet as jam, that I am eating slowly out of one hand, gently and almost fetishistically, while wearing a blue cotton kimono, which I can wear today, as it's unusually cool, only late 70s, although still humid, as always.I will post a picture here, even though one of the things I love and hate equally is some sort of meme on Facebook where everyone posts gorgeous new vegetables freshly picked from their garden, cradled against their hand, moist and raw with dirt and work. I love these pictures for their quotidian beauty and also find them sort of precious and smug. Probably because I am not a very hard worker. Someone who gardens and writes and, say, parents and jobs, is a much harder worker than I am, who is sometimes more dreamy Lol Stein than Duras the writer. Did Duras garden? I think of Duras just like sitting outside in a garden doing some hard drinking and bitching and writing and reading.I don't know. I've always been a bit ambivalent with the earth mother archetype, even though certainly with my veganism and natural deodorant and, other things I'm sure, could be accused of as embodying it, maybe because all these fairly impotent intellectuals I dated always went from me to earth mothers.
I am not writing. I am answering emails. I am reading - yesterday I finished Two Girls Fat and Thin - which is still staying with me - how she goes inside of their bodies, their interiorities, and writes this dirty girl Valhalla of childhood - and I also read Sheila Heti's nonfiction novel How Should a Person Be? which I enjoyed very much, and liked how it crossed boundaries, but also like the Gaitskill was about a messy, complex female friendship, and the self-awareness in documenting that friendship reminded me of Chris and Sylvere's letters and faxes in I Love Dick. Today I hope to reread Dodie Bellamy's Letters of Mina Harker, which actually will probably resound as well, the merging of fiction and nonfiction, the idea of a work about community, about friendship.
This is a terrible blog post.
I love how raspberries and blackberries, which I originally thought these were, are like mini-universes.