They missed my particular favorite – the Perpetual Calendar by Arina Pozdynak . It’s a dateless calendar, focusing more on seasons and the natural drift of time undivided by days, weeks, or months. Beautifully done.
Some photos from a weekend trip to San Francisco. The city that holds my heart. Tartine is always the first stop. Oh, scone.Lying on the grass at Dolores Park.
A breathtaking hike at Lands End.Dinner at B Star. The tea leaf salad and the spicy shrimp, eggplant, and tomato curry with coconut rice are my favorite dishes. By the time I thought of taking a picture of dinner, most of it was already happily consumed. Saturday Farmers’ Market at the Ferry Building. Blue Bottle Coffee and Roli Roti’s porchetta sandwich for breakfast. A precious indigo bud vase from Heath, and the sweetest pluots from Frog Hollow Farm brought home. A walk around Alamo Square.Lunch at Zuni Cafe before heading home.
I was looking forward to seeing the supermoon over the weekend. I love the moon. I fall in love with it over and over again. Earlier in the week, I had set an alert on my iPhone, to remind myself that “the moon will be super” on the 23rd.
The moon was indeed super on the 23rd. That is, from the 22nd to the first hours of the 23rd. I had in mind the evening of the 23rd. I spent the actual night of the supermoon eating roast duck at the tiny Chinese BBQ restaurant down my street. I ate a terrific amount of it, along with its wonderfully crispy, fatty, duck skin. I was cholesterolically fearless and happy, and I drank lots of Jasmine tea. Then I went home and passed out on the couch.
The month of June has been like the faintest color of lilac purple. So faint, you’d sometimes think you’re seeing white. I floated along the lightest breeze of June, and it’s bringing me to its end. When I pause now and reflect back on the month, the actualized, and concrete forms, changes, events, and ideas materialize as memory, and it makes me believe that June makes living in the moment so natural and easy.
Grapes are so sweet right now, and I’m consuming gigantic watermelons each week. I’ve also discovered how awesome juicing is. I’ll be sharing my favorite juice concoctions soon.
For now, here are a couple things I made over the weekend. The first- a batch of lowfat yogurt.
I had nearly two full gallons of milk in the fridge, a day past its printed expiration date, yet, it was still good. Milk can’t see outside of its carton. Milk doesn’t know when it’s supposed to die. The milk will spoil when it naturally will, so sniff, inspect, taste, before throwing out perfectly fine milk that has passed- within reason- its printed expiration date.
Have you made yogurt at home before? It’s simple. Heat your milk in a large saucepan and set it over medium heat, stirring periodically to make sure it doesn’t burn. Turn off the heat once bubbles just begin to break at the edge- right before it gets to boil. Let the milk cool until you can dip your clean finger in and is warm to the touch. In that meantime, preheat your oven to 110 degrees, and then turn the oven off.
When the milk has cooled, stir in a few spoonfuls of good yogurt with active cultures. You can use supermarket yogurts like Fage for this, and it’ll still be great, but if you can get your hands on fresh yogurt from a local dairy farmer at your farmers’ markets, even better.
After everything is stirred together, cover the saucepan with its lid, wrap it with a towel, and let it sit in the warm oven overnight. I keep the oven light on for warmth. Incubation.
By morning, you’ll have fresh, homemade yogurt. It’s different from anything else. It’s like the smoothest custard.
And then I made Heidi’s baked oatmeal. I was motivated to make it after making these blueberry bars that I had mentioned last week, because I spent the following days eating warmed up leftover blueberry bars for breakfast with coffee. Blueberry bars for breakfast made me happy, but I figured I ought to have something a bit more wholesome as a morning meal, so I turned to Heidi, and her baked oatmeal recipe is it. It’s easy to put together, it’s wholesome, delicious, sweet, but not too sweet. It’s wonderful with a dollop of fresh yogurt on top.
My heart gasped when I first came across these modern terrariums by 10¹² Terra. Founded in Japan by Daisuke Tsumanuma and Kenichi Yamada, 10¹² Terra aims to create products that reflect the constant flux and changes in life. The name 10¹² Terra was inspired by the number of cells reproduced per day (10¹²).
The rectangular chrome and glass vessels suspend the plant over a small basin of water. The transparency- to be able see the entirety of the plant- is stunning. There’s a purity and rawness to see the roots, which are usually hidden under dirt, to see them extend and uninhibitedly drink in the water to stay alive. To live. It’s like seeing the heart.
Something magical happened this past weekend.
I stepped out onto my backyard to wrestle with the giant puppy. And then I found this.
It was just lying there, on the grass. Gold.
I don’t know where it came from, and I don’t know what I did to deserve this. But it’s mine now, and I love it so much.
My eventual plan is to mount it above my bed, like this-
I think I’ll need some reinforcements (both in materials and bodies) to help mount this beauty, so in the meantime, it’s sitting above one of my bookcases, with a string of lights tangling through the branches.
( Images unlinked are my own )
A weekend road trip to the Flower Fields in Carlsbad.
I didn’t expect the beds to be purely of ranunculus…
Ranunculus happen to be one of my favorite things. The beautiful, delicate ranunculus, in every color, enclosed me,And the overcast skies stayed grey above me,And I tried hard not to think in similes and metaphors.
This little brown cup was claimed on a bright Sunday morning at a small yard sale. The girl who picked it up loved the shape of its ceramic walls, and its deep chestnut color, lacquered in glaze. It was small, and felt warm and snug between her hands. She imagined sipping rich hot chocolate from it during the winter, and paid sixty cents to call it her own.
She took it home, and washed it with soap and water. She filled the cup up with some milk to drink, but she couldn’t seem to bring the rim to her lips. She emptied the cup, and washed it again. Scrubbed it inside and out. Soaked it overnight in suds. The next morning, she filled it with some juice. It was emptied into the sink.
A lesson was learned. She just couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of secondhand kitchenware.
So the little mug was wrapped in newspaper. And winter passed.
Then spring came, and the roses at home came to full bloom.
Snip, snip, snip.
And the little brown cup was unwrapped.
And filled with flowers.
It’s easy to get absorbed in work; to get lost in your mind with projects, ideas, colors, words, and numbers. Times when the creative current from my mind to my fingers seems to flow effortlessly, as I knock down those projects and wrangle up every color and figure with my lasso of wit and brilliance, I can surface from that state with the booty of productivity.
But for those rare occasions, when ideas are as realized as unicorns, I like to take a walk outside. It’s good to look up at the big sky. To listen to the wind blow. To get some feeling back into my legs.
These are some shots from one of those walks- did I say rare occasions? Oops, I meant to say rarely occasional– that I took yesterday at a park across the street. It was a beautiful day- the sky was magnificently blue, and a cool wind blew through my hair and against my eyelids.
With a couple of the photos, I created illustrations of words, colors, lines, or shapes they inspired within me. It’s a fun practice, and a great way for me to get back on my creative track. Because after all that walking, really, shouldn’t I be able to run?