looking back, twenty-sixteen

The following is what I set out to do in the last year. I made this list last January, printed it out and pinned it to the linen board above my desk beside the closet where I get dressed every morning. Despite the fact that I did not complete many of the goals, I did nonetheless find it helpful to have these goals in front of me each morning: a guide to remembering how I want to spend my days.

Run a half-marathon. Nope.

Do one art project each month. Eh. In retrospect, this wasn't that helpful of a resolution, seeing as good projects take much longer than a month. But this past year has been good soil for an idea that is just now coming to seed, and which I am hoping will be finished this coming year, and am really excited about. That feels even more successful to me than doing twelve small projects.

Do the introduction class and two-week trial at the climbing gym. Maybe stick with it. Nope. Instead, I joined the YMCA and am loving it. I am pretty certain that YoPi at the Lakewood YMCA on Monday evenings is way better than any climbing gym.

Get more involved in Walltown. Keep popsicles in the freezer. Sit on the porch. Visit neighbors. Not really, except the sitting on the porch part and sharing some tomatoes with Mario and talking plants with Mr. B. Need to keep working on this.

Make more of an intentional effort to make and keep friends. Kind of a difficult one to judge. But, I feel grateful for more and deeper friendships in Durham this year, particularly female friends.

Start art group with Sam. Did this, but it was kind of a bust.

Read a book a week—fifty two books in the year. I was so far from this goal, and it seems to me like the most important goal, the one that I need to really work on again this coming year. Not necessarily 52 books, but just more books. More reading. I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a working woman, to carry the burden of both making money and domestic responsibilities (something that I find myself falling into, by habit), and how little time that leaves for anything else besides sleeping. Finding time to read is hard, much harder than when I was in school. But I have also been realizing what a necessity it is for making art. If I am going to make art, I need to read more. And if I am going to read more, I need to be both better at fighting for my time and letting the dishes go.

Visit Heather in Boston. Yes, and I had such a sweet, sweet weekend with H. in March.

Initiate girls' weekend with Rebekah and Anna. Kind of, not really. Try again for this year!

Write poems, and submit them. I did not write a single poem this year, but I did submit a few old ones, and one got published. I have some snippets I've been working on for a new poem, and maybe now is the time to turn back to that.

Quit at All Saints. Done.

Find another job that I like. If anything, this has been the year of too many jobs: gallery assistant, graphic designer, photographer, studio assistant, barista, and I could go on. The question I most dread people asking is "Where do you work?" It's just too complicated to answer. I love almost all of my jobs, and feel very lucky to have work that I find meaningful, but I am also hoping that maybe this new year brings a less complicated answer to that question.

Watch more films on Derek’s movie list, as well as in general: more films. I wouldn't say I watched a lot more films, but I did cross off a few from Derek's list (A Single Man, The Royal Tenenbaums, Fargo, etc.). And, last night, Austin and I watched Short Term 12, which just might be one of my favorite movies I've watched this year (that, or Moonlight).

Go on a backpacking trip with Sarah.
 Yes! I am so glad this happened. I didn't think I could go because of a barista shift, but at the last minute someone picked up my shift and I quickly packed my bag and took off with Sarah and Taylor to Grayson Highlands State Park. It was a good, good weekend of constant rain and wild ponies and burning bushes.

Find a way to begin learning Italian. I tried so hard to get into a course at Duke and the local community college, but to no avail. 

Go through all clothes and re-vamp closet. Keep no clothes that I rarely wear. This is more of a twice-a-year task, I find, but I did it early this year and again recently, and took big bags to the local thrift store both times. I am almost too good at getting rid of clothes, because I will often find myself weeks after I gave a piece of clothing away looking for it and wanting to wear it. Oops. But I would much prefer that than to be burdened by too much.

Bake bread regularly. Kind of, sort of. Austin and I baked a lot more bread this year than any year before, so I'll say we (not just I) did this.

Find a spiritual director. Yes!

Make my own chai more regularly. I started doing this earlier in the year, and then realized how expensive it is to buy vanilla beans (etc.) every week, so I haven't kept it up. 

Compost. Build compost pile in the backyard.
 Yes! And I'm so proud of our little compost pile, which is doing quite well now.

Build raised beds. Yes! Austin and I built it ourselves and hauled two carloads of dirt to our front yard. We grew tomatoes, butternut squash, cantaloupe, strawberries, basil, lavender, and broccoli. It all was ready to harvest when we were gone this summer, so we didn't actually get to eat much of it. But I am hoping for a better spring harvest!

Save and buy a new camera lens and/or body.
 Yes! Sold my old Nikon D7000 and bought a Nikon D750.

Finish setting up our home, so that it feels finished. I still have plans to sew curtains for our bedroom, but other than that, yes! It does feel finished, and I love this home so much.

Have monthly re-evaluations of goals and life choices. Nope, not really.

Find a way to practice confession at a church. No. Perhaps this Lent?

Begin a photo-book library. Yes, and I am out-growing the section of the bookshelf that I designated for photo books. My most exciting recent acquisitions include Emmet Gowin and Ellsworth Kelly.

Sew a dress. Ask Rebekah for that pattern. I have the pattern printed and ready to go, but have not sewn the dress.

Make a tres leches cake. I literally made this on NYE, so yes! I did, and it was tasty and sweet. A little too sweet for my liking.

Develop recipes of my own. Start collecting them into a homemade book/blog. Mm, not really, but I have got something in the works for the new year.

Bike more often. Get bike equipment. I did buy a bike light, a helmet, and gloves, which makes biking seem more doable, but I need to actually do it more often.

See Gianna and Kira face-to-face. This, somehow, magically, happened! I saw Gianna earlier this year in Boston, and Kira came to visit us in Durham from Toronto. The best.

Re-do my website. Make it more professional. Started an overhaul and re-designed it. Still needs more content updating though.

Write long letters to friends, especially Jess, Kira, Jayne, etc. Some, but not enough.

Write one letter a week to Austin, even if short and sweet. Failed at this.

Get a second ear piercing or tattoo.  This was the one thing I thought for sure I wouldn't actually do, but I did after all get a tattoo this year. Reb and I went together in September and it happened in ten minutes and I am happy that I did it. It still surprises me sometimes.

[our home, 35mm]


she went over it like a bird

I did not know what else to do the day after the election except to read Dorothy Day. A much needed reminder when all actions feel weighted by insignificance:

"What good can one person do? What is the sense of our small effort? [You] do not see that we must lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time; we can be responsible only for one action of the present moment. But we can beg for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform all our individual actions, and know that God will take them and multiply them, as Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes."
(Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes)

In other news, I just got to spend some time with this wonderful potter and his wife, who both make beautiful things. I am also re-reading Woolf's A Room of One's Own and simultaneously getting excited for a little studio space I may be renting in the spring, a real room of my own.

[Dorothy Day, my fashion icon]


the roundedness of things

At the end of the summer A. and I made a guide to filling our days, something we did a long time ago to fill those pockets of time together with good things. Our list for September included: more porch dinners, visiting friends in Asheville, biking the downtown trail, singing on the kitchen floor, church vacation and finding spike ball friends. There were plenty of things we didn't get to (going to the swimming hole, picnicking in the gardens, etc.)—we'll have to carry those over to October, which is now, somehow, just around the corner.

After a three-week hiatus, I really am just in the mood to cook, cook everything! Tonight we made these sorrel pesto rice bowls, and I want to make this banana bread with muscovado and chocolate. I also want to get some chard from the market to make chard with chickpeas, lemon, and tomatoes.

I have just started working with a 4x5 view camera, and it is everything. There is just something extraordinary about throwing a dark cloth over your head and staring at a reversed, upside-down image on the ground glass—something I have never felt with a digital camera, or even a 35mm camera.

A poem out in the world, and Frank Ocean's Blonde all the time.

These words, which A. sent my way:

"When Jesus warned, 'everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted,' he spoke, apparently, of two alternative mistakes and not only one, a false self-promotion and a false self-humiliation, both in need of correction. The reality that exposes false pretensions catches up with us, not only to throw us down from heights of importance we have arrogated to ourselves, but also to dig us up from bunkers of insignificance we have hollowed out for ourselves. Hiding like Saul among the baggage, we shall be dragged uncomfortably before those who expect something of us. Perhaps, after all, there is truth in the suggestion that the two failings join hands behind the curtain, that modest invisibility is not very different from boastful self-promotion. Whether publicizing oneself or shrinking from publicity, one hopes to avoid the candid gaze that sees through one's self-image. What is required is that we know ourselves as we are known. To refuse self-knowledge is to refuse to find ourselves in the world God loves, to refuse to love ourselves." 

(Oliver O'Donovan, Finding and Seeking: Ethics as Theology, Volume II, 54-55)

[singing on the kitchen floor, a favorite activity, 35mm]


the bests of the summer

biking in denver // honey stingers // getting a tattoo with reb // beach day with kira // birthday sheep's milk ricotta bruschetta // boulted bread dates with a. // curating my first exhibit // meeting susan worsham // summiting mount democrat // prayers from father martin in my inbox // elena ferrante // ellie running to greet me at all souls // chicago with shannon // josé gonzalez in millennium park // emma and heather in the same room again // biking to locopops // FLORIST in chapel hill // riley and maggie // moxie koigns // sam walking down the aisle // thump coffee mornings // eldarado canyon state park // sweet corn ravioli from potager // RICHMOND // tacos with janine and zech // gordon parks exhibit at the virginia museum of fine arts // biking the american tobacco trail // hannah praying with her lips // "and the Lord remembered her" // quirk hotel // austin's farming hat // remembering why i love annie dillard // asheville weekend // "the impeded stream is the one that sings" // cardamom buns // spike ball with jeff and reb at the gardens // string lights on our front porch // walking around cheeseman park with a. // using our tent for the first time // waving at mr. b every single morning

[view of Kite Lake from a climb up Mount Democrat, CO]


to say the names of things

"God is present and will be present. All of us have heard, or in some way experienced, a call. It may have been a voice in the night or a dawning awareness, a lifelong inclination or an epiphany impelling us to change how we live altogether. How we respond to that call is manifested in our lives as artists. I like to think that what we do and what we make are ways of saying to God, 'Here I am. I am present, too.'" [Mark Jarman, in an article in Image]

Listening to a lot of Hello Shark this weekend.

These—the perfect road trip snack.

[from a trip to Boston, earlier this year, Honeywell Pentax, 35mm]


on turning

My friend Heather, in her Boston apartment earlier this year.

And Joel Meyorwitz, answering the question: What do you look for in a photograph?

"It's a merger of what's inside your head and what's outside your eyes, and finding a way to synthesize that experience—because what's inside your head isn't something that you have predetermined you want to have. It's a notion of what's satisfying, what fills you up. I think about photographs as being full, or empty. You picture something in a frame and it's got lots of accounting going on in it—stones and buildings and trees and air—but that's not what fills up a frame. You fill up a frame with feelings, energy, discovery, and risk, and leave room enough for someone else to get in there. It's full because you're there, because you carried a lifetime of impulses with you that direct you toward the clear sky behind you. You don't know why, but you turn to it."

[Honeywell Pentax, 35mm]


ten good things, & other things

01. a sweet, sweet weekend with kira, and a reminder of how easy a friendship can be—what a rare gift.
02. roasted tomato soup and beet pesto and spring minestrone and all the glories of summer produce.
03. bright blue hydrangeas from the market, now on our table.
04. postcards, letters, and packages in the mail. new bra, new books, chicory root to make this!
05. scoring a $70 book on fra angelico for $17 at the used bookstore downtown.
06. a job that I love and an employer who offers constant encouragement. also a rare gift.
07. summer travel plans: cincinnati! charlottesville! chicago! denver! possibly maine!
08. returning to old journals and memories from last summer at this time: in iceland, with derek.
09. all the friends who have traveled to visit us, drank coffee on our front porch, slept on our air mattress, and ate dinner on the kitchen floor with us.
10. this month of june, which is always a good month.

Lately, also:

Listening all day long to Told Slant's Going By

I am trying to find words for the movement from dusk to darkness in the summertime, how slow it is, until that last moment of light which flickers out suddenly like a flame. It's like this: the sun holds on to the day, as if they were attached by a string stretched taught and long into the evening, the tension growing before snapping into the darkness of night, only the constancy of the fireflies carrying us across the divide. That last moment of light is anything but slow: it is sharp, quick, easy to miss. I want to spend this summer waiting for that snap.

[our tomatoes and peppers, much larger now! honeywell pentax, 35mm]