complimenting
She says there's something about me that draws people in a way that makes them want to talk, share their thoughts, and ask questions.
easy-peasy
"It's going to take more than one try," I tell the nurse who's about to draw blood. "No it won't," she says with a little smile. And she's right. For the first time I can remember, I'm not poked multiple times; she manages to find the vein in my arm and draw blood in one attempt. "This is amazing," I say, and she reveals her secret: she had spent 10 years working with babies. My skittish adult veins are no match for her skill.
inspection
Being peered at like this feels strange. It's an annual checkup, so it's expected, but it's still unsettling to get inspected from scalp to toes (where a mild subungual hematoma stains one nail).
negotiating
It's a short walk, maybe a mile or two, but it takes longer than expected. There are different conditions to negotiate, such as where to walk so the sun isn't always in my eyes, what to do about impatient, aggressive drivers who are blocking the crosswalks, and where to turn when the pedestrians' route is a thread through construction chaos.
rosily
In the middle of the aisle, a girl in a glossy pink skirt hugs a girl with golden ringlets.
roughly
The thunderstorm sounds like a throat being violently cleared.
self-awareness
They say they listen well, but keep interrupting the young man and telling him they don't understand him. Even as he tries to explain, they cut him off. When he trails back to his chair, they tell him they appreciate his contributions to the discussion.
Showing posts with label storms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storms. Show all posts
Friday, January 25, 2019
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Week in Seven Words #383
afternoon
A fatty meal, followed by shooting hoops in the driveway and a video introduction to the largest dogs in the world.
creepily
It would be an eerie statue to visit at night, the Alice in Wonderland who sits on her giant mushroom at the east side of the park. She's smiling, dead-eyed, while the Mad Hatter grins unpleasantly beside her.
employees
On three occasions, strangers approach me at a bookstore or convenience store for advice on which birthday card to buy for their boss. I don't know why I've been chosen to help, but it's a responsibility I try not to take too lightly.
hearty
Somewhere in the trees, there's a frenzied drummer. To the east, a charity walk pours down a broad paved path. Cheerleaders with dazzling pom-poms shout encouragement. In a clearing across from the cheerleaders, LARPers skirmish with foam weapons. Another group practices capoeira, and a saxophonist, playing under a bridge, is enfolded in the echoes of his music.
infusing
On a terrace by the lake, a man with a guitar sings "Layla." He performs with heart and a voice rough with age. His music colors the stones and the water, and it nourishes the people who walk by. A few smile at him.
pivot
The kids are in high spirits. They dance (including swing dance!) and sing to the music churned out by a piano player who labors body and soul to do justice to Duke Ellington. The evening's low point is at the start, when a teacher uses the words 'hip' and 'cool' and then looks like she can't get the taste of them out of her mouth.
ungovernable
The storm smashes through the park like a tantrum. Branches dangle like the arms of marionettes.
A fatty meal, followed by shooting hoops in the driveway and a video introduction to the largest dogs in the world.
creepily
It would be an eerie statue to visit at night, the Alice in Wonderland who sits on her giant mushroom at the east side of the park. She's smiling, dead-eyed, while the Mad Hatter grins unpleasantly beside her.
employees
On three occasions, strangers approach me at a bookstore or convenience store for advice on which birthday card to buy for their boss. I don't know why I've been chosen to help, but it's a responsibility I try not to take too lightly.
hearty
Somewhere in the trees, there's a frenzied drummer. To the east, a charity walk pours down a broad paved path. Cheerleaders with dazzling pom-poms shout encouragement. In a clearing across from the cheerleaders, LARPers skirmish with foam weapons. Another group practices capoeira, and a saxophonist, playing under a bridge, is enfolded in the echoes of his music.
infusing
On a terrace by the lake, a man with a guitar sings "Layla." He performs with heart and a voice rough with age. His music colors the stones and the water, and it nourishes the people who walk by. A few smile at him.
pivot
The kids are in high spirits. They dance (including swing dance!) and sing to the music churned out by a piano player who labors body and soul to do justice to Duke Ellington. The evening's low point is at the start, when a teacher uses the words 'hip' and 'cool' and then looks like she can't get the taste of them out of her mouth.
ungovernable
The storm smashes through the park like a tantrum. Branches dangle like the arms of marionettes.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Week in Seven Words #259
audacious
A cockroach scales the chrome and neon walls of the ice cream parlor like a sci-fi hero.
bluster
A storm whips the houses, cloaks the streetlights.
chagrin
She doesn't want to admit to buying the junk food for herself, so she claims it's for friends or family. It gets me annoyed with how much guilt and shame is associated with food (with some brands even labeling their products 'guilt-free'), as if shame or guilt will reliably motivate people to make healthier choices long-term. And as if it's shameful to have some dessert.
choo-choo
He asks me what I'm sentimental about. The first thing that comes to mind: trains. I still have sentimental ideas about taking a train trip across the US. I know I'm romanticizing Amtrak. Amtrak, of all things. I know about the possible difficulties of long distance train travel, especially in this country, where it's not a popular way to get around. But I really like traveling by train (even in subways sometimes, when the cars aren't crowded). For more than several hours? I don't know. I haven't done it yet.
fostering
What makes for a good friend? Someone who can respect you and accept your essential self. Who can challenge you without belittling you. You can grow, and they will not insist that you need to stay the same or make yourself smaller to suit them. They will not demand that you stick to an outdated version of yourself or a version of you they've built up rigidly in their minds.
sensuously
She presses a lemon to her ear, pauses, puts it down. Picks another one to listen to and decides to keep it. Then she moves on to the peaches. She rolls them against her cheek, one by one, until she finds the peach with the most pleasing caress.
variation
Imperfections enhance beauty.
A cockroach scales the chrome and neon walls of the ice cream parlor like a sci-fi hero.
bluster
A storm whips the houses, cloaks the streetlights.
chagrin
She doesn't want to admit to buying the junk food for herself, so she claims it's for friends or family. It gets me annoyed with how much guilt and shame is associated with food (with some brands even labeling their products 'guilt-free'), as if shame or guilt will reliably motivate people to make healthier choices long-term. And as if it's shameful to have some dessert.
choo-choo
He asks me what I'm sentimental about. The first thing that comes to mind: trains. I still have sentimental ideas about taking a train trip across the US. I know I'm romanticizing Amtrak. Amtrak, of all things. I know about the possible difficulties of long distance train travel, especially in this country, where it's not a popular way to get around. But I really like traveling by train (even in subways sometimes, when the cars aren't crowded). For more than several hours? I don't know. I haven't done it yet.
fostering
What makes for a good friend? Someone who can respect you and accept your essential self. Who can challenge you without belittling you. You can grow, and they will not insist that you need to stay the same or make yourself smaller to suit them. They will not demand that you stick to an outdated version of yourself or a version of you they've built up rigidly in their minds.
sensuously
She presses a lemon to her ear, pauses, puts it down. Picks another one to listen to and decides to keep it. Then she moves on to the peaches. She rolls them against her cheek, one by one, until she finds the peach with the most pleasing caress.
variation
Imperfections enhance beauty.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Step into the home of the Femm family, The Old Dark House (1932)
Title: The Old Dark House
Director: James Whale
Language: English
Rating: G
In this freaky and ridiculous horror movie, five people get stranded in the Femm family home, located in a remote corner of Wales. The Femms live in a stew of ruination and resentment. There's the sister, Rebecca (Eva Moore), a bitter and creepy old woman who broods on the sins of the world, especially anything to do with sex and youth. Her scarecrow of a brother, Horace (Ernest Thesiger), sometimes attempts to defy her but is reduced to fits of trembling. Their 102-year-old father is somewhere upstairs. And is there anyone else? Oh yes, the butler, Morgan (Boris Karloff of Frankenstein fame), who's difficult to manage once he starts drinking.
The unfortunate guests are a married couple, Philip (Raymond Massey) and Margaret Waverton (Gloria Stuart), and a bachelor, Penderel (Melvyn Douglas), who was traveling with them in their car. Later, a businessman, Sir William Porterhouse (Charles Laughton) and his high-spirited chorus girl companion, Gladys (Lilian Bond), show up seeking refuge from the violent weather that's driven everyone into the Femm home.
It's a good ensemble pic, the kind of movie I really enjoy when it's done well. The standout performance for me was Charles Laughton, as a cheery but profoundly sad and lonely loudmouth, though the actors playing the Femm family are also great, and Gloria Stuart is luminous, bringing brightness to the Femm home (Stuart, by the way, played the elderly Rose in Titanic).
There's no gore, and no need of supernatural entities, because people's personalities are gruesome enough. The movie is a mix of creepiness and absurdity. There are some surprisingly funny moments - not obvious jokes, but just the way a character says or does something at a given moment. The whole scenario is over-the-top, and I think the director (also of Frankenstein fame) and everyone else involved with the film made it with playfulness.
Director: James Whale
Language: English
Rating: G
In this freaky and ridiculous horror movie, five people get stranded in the Femm family home, located in a remote corner of Wales. The Femms live in a stew of ruination and resentment. There's the sister, Rebecca (Eva Moore), a bitter and creepy old woman who broods on the sins of the world, especially anything to do with sex and youth. Her scarecrow of a brother, Horace (Ernest Thesiger), sometimes attempts to defy her but is reduced to fits of trembling. Their 102-year-old father is somewhere upstairs. And is there anyone else? Oh yes, the butler, Morgan (Boris Karloff of Frankenstein fame), who's difficult to manage once he starts drinking.
From Wikipedia, Fair use
The unfortunate guests are a married couple, Philip (Raymond Massey) and Margaret Waverton (Gloria Stuart), and a bachelor, Penderel (Melvyn Douglas), who was traveling with them in their car. Later, a businessman, Sir William Porterhouse (Charles Laughton) and his high-spirited chorus girl companion, Gladys (Lilian Bond), show up seeking refuge from the violent weather that's driven everyone into the Femm home.
It's a good ensemble pic, the kind of movie I really enjoy when it's done well. The standout performance for me was Charles Laughton, as a cheery but profoundly sad and lonely loudmouth, though the actors playing the Femm family are also great, and Gloria Stuart is luminous, bringing brightness to the Femm home (Stuart, by the way, played the elderly Rose in Titanic).
There's no gore, and no need of supernatural entities, because people's personalities are gruesome enough. The movie is a mix of creepiness and absurdity. There are some surprisingly funny moments - not obvious jokes, but just the way a character says or does something at a given moment. The whole scenario is over-the-top, and I think the director (also of Frankenstein fame) and everyone else involved with the film made it with playfulness.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Week in Seven Words #167
derelict
She drinks from a dirty glass and eats tongue between slices of old brown bread.
disagreeable
Music from the IRS hotline tinkles in my ear, as I try to write while on hold.
gambits
The blankets are rumpled and strewn with pie dishes and tin trays. People stand around talking and sizing each other up. Every conversation I'm a part of seems to involve a game that I don't want to play.
needs
The sky growls thunder and hisses a promise of rain. Still, we must stop for frozen yogurt.
two-sided
Depending on who you ask in the room, the dog is an adorable treasure or, at best, a nuisance.
whoop
Discovering that I need to fill out a five-page tax form that comes with at least 50 pages of instructions.
whoopee
Along with the five-page form, there's another form. And another. There are always more forms.
She drinks from a dirty glass and eats tongue between slices of old brown bread.
disagreeable
Music from the IRS hotline tinkles in my ear, as I try to write while on hold.
gambits
The blankets are rumpled and strewn with pie dishes and tin trays. People stand around talking and sizing each other up. Every conversation I'm a part of seems to involve a game that I don't want to play.
needs
The sky growls thunder and hisses a promise of rain. Still, we must stop for frozen yogurt.
two-sided
Depending on who you ask in the room, the dog is an adorable treasure or, at best, a nuisance.
whoop
Discovering that I need to fill out a five-page tax form that comes with at least 50 pages of instructions.
whoopee
Along with the five-page form, there's another form. And another. There are always more forms.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Week in Seven Words #144
I had meant to post this earlier in the week, but better late than never...
crackle
The first time I step outside after the Frankenstorm, the air is cold and raw, like breathing ice crystals.
cramming
Early Sunday morning, the lines at the grocery store spill out the door.
howling
Flickering lights and rain lashing the windows, but thankfully no flooding. No long-term loss of power. Unlike other parts of the city and eastern coastline, which are unrecognizable now.
orbitofrontal
Young kids have a hard time focusing on multiple details. I see it during a game of Dominos where the child pays attention to one feature or number but overlooks another. Juggling details simultaneously is tough.
pococurante
I want to smack the people who go online to tell everyone that the coming storm is "hyped up" and that there's no need to evacuate or prepare for it in any way.
refuge
People clustered at the library looking for a warm place to read, sleep and use the Internet for the first time in a couple of days.
skewed
If they lose the first game, they tell me it isn't fair if I win the second one too. Even if the game is purely chance, a matter of how the dice land, they still want me to lose somehow, to appease their notion of fairness and make things right with the world.
crackle
The first time I step outside after the Frankenstorm, the air is cold and raw, like breathing ice crystals.
cramming
Early Sunday morning, the lines at the grocery store spill out the door.
howling
Flickering lights and rain lashing the windows, but thankfully no flooding. No long-term loss of power. Unlike other parts of the city and eastern coastline, which are unrecognizable now.
orbitofrontal
Young kids have a hard time focusing on multiple details. I see it during a game of Dominos where the child pays attention to one feature or number but overlooks another. Juggling details simultaneously is tough.
pococurante
I want to smack the people who go online to tell everyone that the coming storm is "hyped up" and that there's no need to evacuate or prepare for it in any way.
refuge
People clustered at the library looking for a warm place to read, sleep and use the Internet for the first time in a couple of days.
skewed
If they lose the first game, they tell me it isn't fair if I win the second one too. Even if the game is purely chance, a matter of how the dice land, they still want me to lose somehow, to appease their notion of fairness and make things right with the world.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Week in Seven Words #136
hibiscus
The narrow lot has been abandoned by everything but hibiscus flowers, promiscuous against the brick walls and chain-link fence.
naturalness
With me she doesn't have to put on a pretense that all is well.
opportunity
Beyond a red door and up a narrow set of stairs I find a new foothold in the world.
peekaboo
Yes, roaches can be found in computer keyboards. (But thankfully not mine!)
propagation
Well-meaning and self-important men are sometimes thwarted by poor acoustics.
self-effacement
I get a sense that it's a welcoming society as long as you're a certain sort of person, otherwise you must oblige them by remaining invisible.
unnoticing
During the two hours I spend in a room with stained glass windows, a storm blows over the city.
The narrow lot has been abandoned by everything but hibiscus flowers, promiscuous against the brick walls and chain-link fence.
naturalness
With me she doesn't have to put on a pretense that all is well.
opportunity
Beyond a red door and up a narrow set of stairs I find a new foothold in the world.
peekaboo
Yes, roaches can be found in computer keyboards. (But thankfully not mine!)
propagation
Well-meaning and self-important men are sometimes thwarted by poor acoustics.
self-effacement
I get a sense that it's a welcoming society as long as you're a certain sort of person, otherwise you must oblige them by remaining invisible.
unnoticing
During the two hours I spend in a room with stained glass windows, a storm blows over the city.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Week in Seven Words #125
assured
He loves looking at photos of his parents and older siblings. When you point them out one by one and name them he smiles confidently. To them he belongs, and they belong to him.
convection
Throughout the heatwave I resolutely (many would say idiotically) leave the air conditioning off; there's a breeze coming in through the window - a warm breeze, but at least the air is circulating – and I can live with that. When the thunderstorm finally rips through the city, I notice at once how the quality of the air changes, pouring in cool and damp. I don't think I've ever loved thunderstorms more.
curious
On the subway a young man is openly reading a paperback copy of Fifty Shades of Gray. From time to time he looks up from the book and stares into the middle distance.
fortitude
I'm having a pleasant time, even though the sun's in my eyes and the rock I'm sitting on is trying to pry open a new orifice in my body.
parched
On a hot dark night people are gathered moth-like around the lit fountain.
pigments
At the restaurant he turns the table into a palette on which he mixes the dull green of smushed peas with glossy drippings of soy sauce and bright ketchup red.
reeled
I can't remember the last time I set foot in a movie theater (was it for The Fantastic Mr. Fox in 2009?), but I enjoy the experience. It's a week night, so it isn't too crowded. I like the hugeness of the sights and sounds. I even like the previews (no matter how bad a movie turns out to be, the previews are pretty much always entertaining).
He loves looking at photos of his parents and older siblings. When you point them out one by one and name them he smiles confidently. To them he belongs, and they belong to him.
convection
Throughout the heatwave I resolutely (many would say idiotically) leave the air conditioning off; there's a breeze coming in through the window - a warm breeze, but at least the air is circulating – and I can live with that. When the thunderstorm finally rips through the city, I notice at once how the quality of the air changes, pouring in cool and damp. I don't think I've ever loved thunderstorms more.
curious
On the subway a young man is openly reading a paperback copy of Fifty Shades of Gray. From time to time he looks up from the book and stares into the middle distance.
fortitude
I'm having a pleasant time, even though the sun's in my eyes and the rock I'm sitting on is trying to pry open a new orifice in my body.
parched
On a hot dark night people are gathered moth-like around the lit fountain.
pigments
At the restaurant he turns the table into a palette on which he mixes the dull green of smushed peas with glossy drippings of soy sauce and bright ketchup red.
reeled
I can't remember the last time I set foot in a movie theater (was it for The Fantastic Mr. Fox in 2009?), but I enjoy the experience. It's a week night, so it isn't too crowded. I like the hugeness of the sights and sounds. I even like the previews (no matter how bad a movie turns out to be, the previews are pretty much always entertaining).
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Week in Seven Words #122
atmospheric
At the cafe we sit right by the huge open windows, and cool air rolls over us as the storm starts up. We breathe deeply and peacefully until I wonder aloud if lightning can come in through open windows. (Chances of that are small, very small, but it's not impossible...)
exhale
It's lovely when a subway car suddenly disgorges all if its passengers, and you're no longer standing with your nose in someone's hair line.
indolent
Turtles loll in the shallows nom-nom-nomming on leaves.
inviting
Tulips on a table laid out in rich blue paper.
lightened
Springtime in the synagogue, flowers twined around the room.
preschool
They sing "Baby Beluga" with looks of rapt innocent concentration. They're little people who can barely sit still, love to give hugs, and know the words to songs about donkeys, wheels on buses, saying good-bye and the deep blue sea.
venturesome
The bug making its slow patient way across my ceiling is an explorer of sorts, mapping out an ocean of space. Even as I stand there waiting for it with an old textbook and a bottle of Windex, I can respect its intrepid spirit.
At the cafe we sit right by the huge open windows, and cool air rolls over us as the storm starts up. We breathe deeply and peacefully until I wonder aloud if lightning can come in through open windows. (Chances of that are small, very small, but it's not impossible...)
exhale
It's lovely when a subway car suddenly disgorges all if its passengers, and you're no longer standing with your nose in someone's hair line.
indolent
Turtles loll in the shallows nom-nom-nomming on leaves.
inviting
Tulips on a table laid out in rich blue paper.
lightened
Springtime in the synagogue, flowers twined around the room.
preschool
They sing "Baby Beluga" with looks of rapt innocent concentration. They're little people who can barely sit still, love to give hugs, and know the words to songs about donkeys, wheels on buses, saying good-bye and the deep blue sea.
venturesome
The bug making its slow patient way across my ceiling is an explorer of sorts, mapping out an ocean of space. Even as I stand there waiting for it with an old textbook and a bottle of Windex, I can respect its intrepid spirit.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Week in Seven Words #83
antennae
When we walk outside we're mostly silent, snug in our separate shells. But at the café we talk for hours, about books and bedbug infestations, future road trips and finding a job.
embrace
Before I'm even out of my chair she's there, catching me up in a hug.
indeterminacy
They ask me where I'll live, what I'll do. I tell them I don't know; I don't know yet. It's a dissatisfying answer that tempts people to jump in, answer for me and tell me what to do. I'm more appreciative of the responses I get from those who are open to a number of possibilities and willing to discuss them.
longanimity
The boy is barely taller than the large black dog that walks beside him. The leash is held loosely in the boy's hand, but the dog doesn't drag him or pull free; even when the boy swats at him with a broad green leaf, the dog slowly and patiently plods along, accustomed to the young child's pestering.
marina
Their Lego city has expanded to include a marina with pirates, mermaids and people on jet skis.
provender
As the storm gusts around outside I'm reminded to check that I have enough non-perishable food. Opening a cupboard I find tuna cans and chocolate-covered blueberries. I'm set.
tiffin
At the park we find a bench in the shade and catch up over lunch - pitas plump with hummous, tahini, hot sauce, falafels, and Israeli salad. It's a brilliant day. A breeze sweeps in around us, chasing away the stagnant heat. The leaves overhead are green and gold. At one point a toddler comes up to us, smiles, stares and waits to see what we'll do; his parents hang back, his mother a touch embarrassed and his father amused, both of them fondly tolerant of his need to investigate people.
When we walk outside we're mostly silent, snug in our separate shells. But at the café we talk for hours, about books and bedbug infestations, future road trips and finding a job.
embrace
Before I'm even out of my chair she's there, catching me up in a hug.
indeterminacy
They ask me where I'll live, what I'll do. I tell them I don't know; I don't know yet. It's a dissatisfying answer that tempts people to jump in, answer for me and tell me what to do. I'm more appreciative of the responses I get from those who are open to a number of possibilities and willing to discuss them.
longanimity
The boy is barely taller than the large black dog that walks beside him. The leash is held loosely in the boy's hand, but the dog doesn't drag him or pull free; even when the boy swats at him with a broad green leaf, the dog slowly and patiently plods along, accustomed to the young child's pestering.
marina
Their Lego city has expanded to include a marina with pirates, mermaids and people on jet skis.
provender
As the storm gusts around outside I'm reminded to check that I have enough non-perishable food. Opening a cupboard I find tuna cans and chocolate-covered blueberries. I'm set.
tiffin
At the park we find a bench in the shade and catch up over lunch - pitas plump with hummous, tahini, hot sauce, falafels, and Israeli salad. It's a brilliant day. A breeze sweeps in around us, chasing away the stagnant heat. The leaves overhead are green and gold. At one point a toddler comes up to us, smiles, stares and waits to see what we'll do; his parents hang back, his mother a touch embarrassed and his father amused, both of them fondly tolerant of his need to investigate people.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Week in Seven Words #81
glare
A flash of lightning fills up the window like an enraged eye peering into the room.
justification
It's the same situation with the same actors, but I describe it quite differently depending on the person I'm talking to.
manifest
Before leaving the library I drop my backpack on the sofa by the exit and start to rearrange its contents. That's when I see him wave hello from the other end of the room. He comes over, we talk, and the tightness in my chest eases. Sometimes a friend is there at the exact right moment, just when you need friendship most but don't hope for it or think to ask.
parabolic
The shape of the past few years resembles in some ways an inverted parabola, arcing up and then declining.
phrenic
Until the decision is made, it's difficult to breathe.
slops
The writing is ragged with indecision. A sluggish paragraph is cut through by a flash of insight all in capslocks, followed by a puddle of diluted thoughts that trickle off in ellipses.
treading
I look like I'm getting somewhere, typing and rifling through papers, but it's only an illusion of progress. Over time I grow tired and start to sink.
A flash of lightning fills up the window like an enraged eye peering into the room.
justification
It's the same situation with the same actors, but I describe it quite differently depending on the person I'm talking to.
manifest
Before leaving the library I drop my backpack on the sofa by the exit and start to rearrange its contents. That's when I see him wave hello from the other end of the room. He comes over, we talk, and the tightness in my chest eases. Sometimes a friend is there at the exact right moment, just when you need friendship most but don't hope for it or think to ask.
parabolic
The shape of the past few years resembles in some ways an inverted parabola, arcing up and then declining.
phrenic
Until the decision is made, it's difficult to breathe.
slops
The writing is ragged with indecision. A sluggish paragraph is cut through by a flash of insight all in capslocks, followed by a puddle of diluted thoughts that trickle off in ellipses.
treading
I look like I'm getting somewhere, typing and rifling through papers, but it's only an illusion of progress. Over time I grow tired and start to sink.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Week in Seven Words #21
accented
Out in the hall a French woman and a Russian woman speak in English, their voices bright and cordial. Soon after, a Greek woman speaks boisterously on the phone, sometimes in English and other times in her native tongue. In a different time and place, two men from Ireland harmonize together on a stage and banter between songs.
limpid
On a day when heat chokes the air and cars snarl along the road, I listen to limpid music; it spills and flows over all the other sounds - horns, brakes, birds, the stutter of machinery, conversation, the creak of trees in the wind.
loop
We could easily have taken the bus, but why not walk? Without walking we wouldn't have as much time to talk, or see the river at thirty minutes to midnight, or come across that sculpture with the words carved into it from several different languages, French and Greek included.
pluvial
There's a primordial fury to the rain; it mashes up the ground, crackles on the windows, and clots the air.
sundered
In the wake of the storm, trees stretch out leafy and shattered on walkways, cars, and roof corners. Branches lie in all angles on the sidewalks and sometimes dangle in the embrace of other branches that have remained aloft and intact.
tunefulness
Music in a long dark room lit with candles in glass, the illustrations on the walls crowding around to listen in shades of red, white and black. With voices that fit well together the musicians sing about old love, new love, a laughing universe, what it would be like to be a work of art, and how they're traveling around in search of feet; at one point they invite a friend to jam with them on the guitar, and she's in a trance, so happy to be up there playing and part of the music.
wresting
It's a song he once knew by heart; now he wrestles different passages out of the piano. Whenever he comes to a lacuna in his memory, he sits with fingers splayed across his forehead and stares with a puzzled frustration at the keys.
Out in the hall a French woman and a Russian woman speak in English, their voices bright and cordial. Soon after, a Greek woman speaks boisterously on the phone, sometimes in English and other times in her native tongue. In a different time and place, two men from Ireland harmonize together on a stage and banter between songs.
limpid
On a day when heat chokes the air and cars snarl along the road, I listen to limpid music; it spills and flows over all the other sounds - horns, brakes, birds, the stutter of machinery, conversation, the creak of trees in the wind.
loop
We could easily have taken the bus, but why not walk? Without walking we wouldn't have as much time to talk, or see the river at thirty minutes to midnight, or come across that sculpture with the words carved into it from several different languages, French and Greek included.
pluvial
There's a primordial fury to the rain; it mashes up the ground, crackles on the windows, and clots the air.
sundered
In the wake of the storm, trees stretch out leafy and shattered on walkways, cars, and roof corners. Branches lie in all angles on the sidewalks and sometimes dangle in the embrace of other branches that have remained aloft and intact.
tunefulness
Music in a long dark room lit with candles in glass, the illustrations on the walls crowding around to listen in shades of red, white and black. With voices that fit well together the musicians sing about old love, new love, a laughing universe, what it would be like to be a work of art, and how they're traveling around in search of feet; at one point they invite a friend to jam with them on the guitar, and she's in a trance, so happy to be up there playing and part of the music.
wresting
It's a song he once knew by heart; now he wrestles different passages out of the piano. Whenever he comes to a lacuna in his memory, he sits with fingers splayed across his forehead and stares with a puzzled frustration at the keys.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Week in Seven Words #17
aperture
For the second time in as many weeks, I watch a film that holds my attention and afterwards leaves me feeling inspired and content that I spent time on it. I also watch it with someone who has seen it before, and I like catching his reactions as he anticipates or rediscovers the little moments and details that delight him.
conviction
During the talk he gives at the public library, his body sometimes seems to seize up with the force of his words.
kaleidoscope
A young child's birthday party. Wrapping paper, fragments of cardboard, and colorful plastic figurines litter the floor and slip between sofa cushions. There's pin the nose on the clown (almost every child peeks), and turns taken at a seemingly indestructible pinata (the bat swings wildly, narrowly misses windows and faces). There are water gun fights, mouths and fingers messy with chocolate cake and pizza grease, laughter and smiles, the occasional sulk in the corner, and adventures into the far corners of the yard.
ladylike
At a bridal shower we eat off paper plates decorated with purple flowers. Lavender candles float in a bowl at the center of the table. There are colorful salads to start with, and then a decadent descent into cheesecake, brownies, and ice cream. Two of the guests fashion an impromptu hat out of wrapping paper, ribbons, and silver bows; the bride-to-be wears it at a becoming angle on her head.
odds
I buy her a birthday gift, and as it turns out, it's the exact same gift she bought for her boyfriend on his birthday last year. It's not a popular gift either, like a best-selling book, but something obscure (it seemed).
scintillation
Our walk takes us across an open bridge, a row of lampposts on our right, traffic hurtling along on our left, the river dark and speckled with light. Lightning flares across large swaths of sky; we walk more quickly, thinking that no, this is not the best time to find ourselves on a bridge, but that we might as well take the opportunity to be dazzled.
sculpture
Chiseling the text and graphs so that they all fit on a single page; I'm not there yet, there are still some lines spilling onto page 2, so I need to play around with space, plucking out a word here and there, and slowly it will assume its final compact shape.
For the second time in as many weeks, I watch a film that holds my attention and afterwards leaves me feeling inspired and content that I spent time on it. I also watch it with someone who has seen it before, and I like catching his reactions as he anticipates or rediscovers the little moments and details that delight him.
conviction
During the talk he gives at the public library, his body sometimes seems to seize up with the force of his words.
kaleidoscope
A young child's birthday party. Wrapping paper, fragments of cardboard, and colorful plastic figurines litter the floor and slip between sofa cushions. There's pin the nose on the clown (almost every child peeks), and turns taken at a seemingly indestructible pinata (the bat swings wildly, narrowly misses windows and faces). There are water gun fights, mouths and fingers messy with chocolate cake and pizza grease, laughter and smiles, the occasional sulk in the corner, and adventures into the far corners of the yard.
ladylike
At a bridal shower we eat off paper plates decorated with purple flowers. Lavender candles float in a bowl at the center of the table. There are colorful salads to start with, and then a decadent descent into cheesecake, brownies, and ice cream. Two of the guests fashion an impromptu hat out of wrapping paper, ribbons, and silver bows; the bride-to-be wears it at a becoming angle on her head.
odds
I buy her a birthday gift, and as it turns out, it's the exact same gift she bought for her boyfriend on his birthday last year. It's not a popular gift either, like a best-selling book, but something obscure (it seemed).
scintillation
Our walk takes us across an open bridge, a row of lampposts on our right, traffic hurtling along on our left, the river dark and speckled with light. Lightning flares across large swaths of sky; we walk more quickly, thinking that no, this is not the best time to find ourselves on a bridge, but that we might as well take the opportunity to be dazzled.
sculpture
Chiseling the text and graphs so that they all fit on a single page; I'm not there yet, there are still some lines spilling onto page 2, so I need to play around with space, plucking out a word here and there, and slowly it will assume its final compact shape.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Week in Seven Words #15
agitation
The sky is orange and gray, with a gleam of lightning now and then from behind the cloud cover. The wind is panting, and the trees tremble. The storm won't contain itself much longer.
capitalize
The difference between a lowercase and uppercase B stalls the programming code, though I hardly know this as I comb through the lines attempting to make sense of an ambiguous error message. It takes a friendly human, with friendly human eyes, to look through it twice and spot the difference.
disorientation
I've grown used to a certain way of walking to this place; I don't think much about the turns I need to make, the landmarks and houses I walk past. That changes twice. Once at night, when a friend suggests making a shortcut through an alley and a side street, and I find my steps faltering a little, as if I'm in a foreign neighborhood. And the second time is during the day, so even the accustomed route looks a little strange - in the sunshine details leap out that have lain hidden in the dark, and I need to stop and stare and remind myself that yes, this is the street.
escapades
I make recurring efforts to neaten the room. But as my attention turns elsewhere the tidiness dissolves, and the next time I stop at the doorway and take a hard assessing look I find that the books have leapfrogged over one another, the papers have waltzed around the floor, and the shirts have turned somersaults off their shelves and onto the chairs.
incongruent
The man has stretched his arms along the back of the bench; his legs are eased out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his spine is curved in a lazy C. His head is tipped back, his eyes probably full of sun and clouds, and I figure he's singing or maybe even talking softly to himself. I'm not prepared, when drawing within earshot, to hear the growls and foul words grinding out of his mouth.
magnify
The nightmare is both ridiculous and revealing; as I think about it afterwards, I realize how much weight I've placed on what seems to be a trivial detail, but is actually only one small part of a larger problem.
windup
At least the day is long, and the hours don't seem to hurry. We have lunch in a breezy room and talk there for a good while after. I savor the time without consciously forcing myself to do so. There's a lot I've learned from this small group of people, and many days I've had great fun being with them. I don't think it's sunk in yet, how I'll miss the frequency of our meetings.
The sky is orange and gray, with a gleam of lightning now and then from behind the cloud cover. The wind is panting, and the trees tremble. The storm won't contain itself much longer.
capitalize
The difference between a lowercase and uppercase B stalls the programming code, though I hardly know this as I comb through the lines attempting to make sense of an ambiguous error message. It takes a friendly human, with friendly human eyes, to look through it twice and spot the difference.
disorientation
I've grown used to a certain way of walking to this place; I don't think much about the turns I need to make, the landmarks and houses I walk past. That changes twice. Once at night, when a friend suggests making a shortcut through an alley and a side street, and I find my steps faltering a little, as if I'm in a foreign neighborhood. And the second time is during the day, so even the accustomed route looks a little strange - in the sunshine details leap out that have lain hidden in the dark, and I need to stop and stare and remind myself that yes, this is the street.
escapades
I make recurring efforts to neaten the room. But as my attention turns elsewhere the tidiness dissolves, and the next time I stop at the doorway and take a hard assessing look I find that the books have leapfrogged over one another, the papers have waltzed around the floor, and the shirts have turned somersaults off their shelves and onto the chairs.
incongruent
The man has stretched his arms along the back of the bench; his legs are eased out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his spine is curved in a lazy C. His head is tipped back, his eyes probably full of sun and clouds, and I figure he's singing or maybe even talking softly to himself. I'm not prepared, when drawing within earshot, to hear the growls and foul words grinding out of his mouth.
magnify
The nightmare is both ridiculous and revealing; as I think about it afterwards, I realize how much weight I've placed on what seems to be a trivial detail, but is actually only one small part of a larger problem.
windup
At least the day is long, and the hours don't seem to hurry. We have lunch in a breezy room and talk there for a good while after. I savor the time without consciously forcing myself to do so. There's a lot I've learned from this small group of people, and many days I've had great fun being with them. I don't think it's sunk in yet, how I'll miss the frequency of our meetings.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)