Monday might not be the best day to post a weekly post, but that seems to be the rhythm I’ve drifted into here. I think I’ll change that soon, and I may also try to return to posting twice a week, but this particular Monday morning follows a ridiculously sleepless night. Sleepless for a good reason, really: I had five hours of in-person visiting with a friend yesterday. A long walk in sunshine and near-freezing temperatures talking about so many topics, followed by a great meal Paul cooked for us, served and eaten on the deck around our new fire table (so yes, safety-conscious, masks worn when appropriate, distances maintained).
I might tell you more about this friendship later because it’s been surprising and affirming and energizing for me as part of the transition we made from small-community island life to retired life in the middle of a busy city. But for now, I have to say that I am obviously out of practice socializing. So out of practice that an hour of bedtime reading did nothing to take away the post-conversation buzz, and when I turned the light out some time after Pater did, those sheep kept jumping over that fence without effecting any somnolence whatsoever. I recited the alphabet backwards; I did yoga breathing and repeated mantras; I listed words beginning with the letters of a word (‘lunch’); and finally at 1:43 I got up and went out to sit on the couch in the dark, admiring the lights of the downtown skyline. Did some knitting, did some Instagram-scrolling, did some more reading. . . . Finally tried the bed again around 3:30, but sleep was still elusive. Hit some dream patches sometime between 5 and 7:30 a.m. and those will have to fuel me this morning. . .
So:
Seems time for a Monday Miscellany post, given that “cohesive” is out of my reach today. So here goes with Miscellany, Numbered Only to Suggest Coherence. . . (i.e. Coherence is an illusion today 😉
1.
Weekend before last, we checked out current exhibitions at the Vancouver Art Gallery. These images are from the Victor Vasarely exhibition; parallel exhibitions we skimmed (and will visit again between now and close in April) feature Op Art in Vancouver; Post-War Craft and Design in Vancouver; and abstract work from a variety of aesthetic and cultural traditions that speak back to Eurocentric hegemony.
Trying to remember where I’ve seen an exhibition of Vasarely’s work before and tempted to open my box of travel journals to see if I made any notes. That is a rabbit hole from which I might never emerge. . .
2. I’m knitting a sweater for a granddaughter’s birthday next month. . . following this pattern and using Rowan Felted Tweed. . .
3. And speaking of sweaters (see, there is a wee bit of coherence manifesting here). . . I’ve finally admitted summer might be over, and I’ve switched my closet appropriately. Next week, the clocks will turn back an hour here and I’m not thrilled about dark falling before dinner; I am happy, though, to rediscover clothes I put away months ago (we were already in Just Stay Home when I boxed up the sweaters and the woven wool pants, the long knit skirts. . . . this pandemic is adding a new dimension to our perception of time, no?)
I wore this navy merino sweater and Black Watch-plaid wool pants to the Vancouver Art Gallery, with the medallion/pendant I brought home from visiting the Kiki Smith exhibitionat Paris’ La Monnaie last December.
Even my metallic loafers don’t detract from this OOTD’s inherent conservatism, but you know I like to mix it up a bit when I’m out walking, and I was so pleased to pull my well-worn, just-sloppy-enough Aritzia sweater out of its moth-proof box last week and layer it over a chalk-striped black-and-white dress.
The temperature hadn’t yet dipped to freezing and I knew I’d be walking fast enough to stay warm, so I wore light leggings, but wasn’t yet ready for tights; wrapped a cashmere scarf around my neck but wasn’t ready for a jacket. Couldn’t get away with that today. . . .
4. I usually keep my posts about what I’m reading over at my other blog and on my reading account at Instagram, but I know some of you never make it to those corners. Recommending this entertaining and illuminating chef/coming-of-age memoir here is my hummingbird effort at keeping the #BlackLivesMatter energy alive.
I’ve written abit about it here with an excerpt of a few pages.
5. And finally. . .
I miss this girl so very much, and when her mom posted a photograph of her — disgruntled because her croissant was not, as hoped, a chocolate croissant — I had to try sketching it.
How I’d love to be sitting at that table in Rome! I wouldn’t even mind her being grumpy. . .
That’s a wrap for my Monday Miscellany. Watch for another post later this week. . .
Comments always welcome — I thrive on them, truly!
xo,
f
Odd how much we rely on human contact without realising it. We went up to Westmoreland on Saturday and had lunch in Kendal. We got a table by the window and just looking out at people was fascinating and compulsive. After all, we spend enough time talking to each other, frankly. And the sight of a happy baby in the restaurant was such a boost. Plus it was pleasant to regard other humans without wondering if I would have to step around them. I often muse on how long it will take us to give up this habit, should we find ourselves in calmer waters.
I find the disgruntled croissant-lover so funny and quirky! Made my day which is saying something as our red-zone status was just extended for a month. Five hours with someone, anyone, with whom one does not live is a distant menory.
F.is the sweetest girl, even when grumpy!
The good things can sometimes ,especially now,be even more exciting (I always write this word with a smile here)and exhausting than the bad ones
Colours on your sweater are soooo lovely!
Take care
Dottoressa
Annie: I saw a t-shirt on someone's FB post that other day with the caption: "When this virus is over I still want some of you to stay away from me." Made me laugh, but. . . I suspect we'll continue to carry masks long after this is (oh please!) over. . . If nothing else, we'll be using them the way we currently use earbuds, to indicate that we're not available for conversation.
Duchesse: I'm glad to hear my sketch brightened your day. So far, we've not had restrictions as strict as yours. This visit was exceptional for me (and most of those five hours were spent outside).
Dottoressa: She is, isn't she?! (yes, it's a dangerous word! She uses it in English, but I'm guessing she already knows to avoid it in Italian 😉
Love your sketch, and your girl captures perfectly her displeasure, but also perhaps our own at still being on lockdown and distanced and not getting the social time we so desperately wanted. Childish disgruntlement — i suppose we never really outgrow it although perhaps we learn to hide it more artfully.
Love this post, your visit to the gallery, your time with a friend. What I hope is that, perhaps, through all of this we learn to treasure more and take less for granted.
That sketch could be the beginning of a delightful illustrated children’s book!
Frances in Sidney
I remember Vasarely from when I was in college and having a poster of one of his works in my first apartment after college in 1970. I really liked his work – it seemed so fresh and vibrant.
slf
What a great sketch of a little grumpy! She could be a storybook character. Did you ever think about writing and illustrating a book for each of your Littles?
Pretty much given up on getting a decent night's sleep myself, but certainly not due to any stimulating conversations!
I've got a grumpy GS to match your grumpy GD. But in person. (Sorry yours is so v. far away.) But his attitude isn't due to a lack of a chocolate croissant, more a result of virtual schooling fatigue at my house. But do love how you captured your GD's sulks.
And, heaven help us, they are starting hybrid classes for K-Grade 2 in less than two weeks–one week in school, one week virtually at home. Changing school hours from 8am-1pm to 10am-4pm. Changing class days. Sometimes forcing a change of teacher. Any semblance of the school routine built up over 8 weeks will be completely wiped out. Working parents will have to rearrange everything again. Did I mention the teacher has to simultaneously teach both sets of students (those in school and those at home)? Can you imagine trying to engage ten kiddies on a computer screen while doing the same with the ten in the room with you? As if this wasn't bad enough, with no notice, this week they also forced teacher to hand in first quarter grades–a week early. Teachers are pulling their hair out. A real cluster…
(Okay. Rant over.)
Making friends at this time of life is wonderful and to be able to see each other and converse in person is extra special in these pandemic times. I love the just-sloppy-enough sweater with the dress and leggings and your drawing beautifully captures the lack of happiness over the missing chocolate. I'm would be as unimpressed as your granddaughter! As always, thanks for the book recommendation and the exhibition reference – the artist is new to me and I appreciate having my horizons expanded. May I say that a return to twice weekly posting fills me with happy anticiapation – no pressure 😉
Oh, I do love those plaid trousers, Frances. Especially with that navy sweater. I can identify your sleeplessness… it's like today you have a talking hangover. I'm similar in that I take hours to wind down from too much hilarity and conversation. I get as my mum used to say "all wound up." Love that little sketch. The set of those those shoulders… perfect. I'm thinking of you there right now, sipping cappuccino and taking charge of the unwanted croissant. 🙂
Ability to have dinner and lively conversation with a friend is lovely. We are all feeling the isolation. Your Ms. Grumpy illustration is delightful. Definitely story book quality. Glad to hear all is well with you. Looking forward to your upcoming post.
Mardel: Perhaps that's why I wanted to try sketching this photo — I recognize that disgruntlement!
Frances: Thank you!
slf: Those were the days, my friend. . . 😉
Mme: Thank you! I think that would be fun, but too much work/discipline for someone of my limited skills
Mary: Oh dear! I'm so sorry to hear this — really does sound frustrating for everyone (except, perhaps, the policy-making administrators who ignore the realities on the ground to attend to metrics — metrics that the best research-based evidence, of course, has long dismissed as best practice. . .
Maria: It's so good making friends in later life when we are seen through a new lens and, in response, perhaps let new parts of ourselves come to the surface. . . Working on that next post, and it's good to know you enjoyed learning of a new artist. Thank you!
Sue B: Yes! Talking hangover! And thank you for the image of me in Rome where I'd happily scarf down that rejected croissant. . .
Susan: Thanks so much. The isolation is tough, isn't it? But at least we can keep each other company.
I would happily scarf down that rejected croissant (it is one place I don’t like Chocolate), and I would have to restrain myself from smiling at Miss Grumpy, as that would likely set her off more, if she is anything like my grandkids. I love your fall into winter transition-the one good thing about the seasonal transition is revisiting some old favourites. I too struggle with sleep after a socially stimulating visit (worth the price, I am sure, to have such a treat in these times of COVID). The little sweater is coming along nicely and inspiring me to start something similar. Just finishing a little Gramps sweater by Tin Can Knits for my grandson’s 2nd birthday with adaptations for his tiny but long frame. Envious of your gallery outings and having Vancouver streets to walk- we got SNOW big time this past week but today it is melting and hopefully we will have a little more good weather to ease the transition to a very isolated winter. I will so miss all the outdoor happy hours, Tai Chi, Mahjongg, etc. Here’s to a good night’s sleep for all of us tonight!
I am so sorry to hear about your sleepless night. In Spanish they say "pasar la noche en blanco" – have a white night. I had some of those lately, even without any social stimulation. I very much hope there was time for a nap later in the day.
I just finished reading "Non vi lasceró orfani" by Daria Bignardi, about her family history and her childhood in Ferrara. In the end she recalls that she was prompted to write the book by a reader of an article of hers on the same subject. If there was anything you would like to tell your grandchildren about their parents (or nana) when they were little, you'd be in the enviable position to be able to add sketches.