Dear reader(s)! Several days have passed since I have submitted my last 5 things! This is just how it goes; sometimes daily lists bubble forth with ease, and sometimes there are dry spells.
My excuse (if you’ll have one) is that I’ve been working on my own personal blahg for writing/zines/artwork/photography/life. It’s exciting, and many hours this weekend poring over its inception have proven worth it, but my eyes are tired…so tired.
Without further ado, 5 things. Sunday/Monday, October 2-3, 2011.
- October 2 is Paul B’s 29th birthday! I sent him a text message wishing him HBD at approximately 12:30 a.m. “this morning.” We all (Greg, Kris K, Daveed, Marilyn, Shari and myself) spent some QT together with Paul and his family at his dad’s glass studio last night. Paul’s dad passed away a week ago from a sudden, unexpected heart attack. I’d met his pop a few times. Really good dude. I imagine this week hasn’t been easy for Paul. So strange that I was just hanging out at Paul’s house the Saturday prior, watching his film(s) and shooting the shit and asking, “How are your folks?” I made Paul two vegan pizzas and brought them over to the studio gathering. Despite the somber atmosphere, they were well-received. Labors of love. Paul B holds the title of Emily’s First Salt Lake City Friend Ever.
- Sunday morning I woke up to my alarm going off at 8 a.m. and I immediately thought it was Monday morning and I needed to get up and go to work. Then I realized it was NOT Monday and it was glorious and I slept another half an hour and got up “early” anyway! Made a huge pot of coffee and read some of “Living Juicy” by SARK, recording her book recommendations (which are pretty woo-woo and self help-y, but I find I am drawn towards this type of stuff a lot lately) and basked in the morning of nothing-to-do. I have also been researching about artist residencies (I’ve got this book out from the library), specifically those in the Pacific NW region of this world. There’s a place called the Sitka Center for Art & Ecology that looks particularly magical. Been mostly just stirring up some info, planting some seeds of intention here & there and wondering if/when I might venture into residency-land in the next year of my life. Friend and fellow UArts fiber-grad Jen Gin recommended told me recently that Penland changed her life and that I need to go. Hmmm…I mean, look at this place.
- I had leftover Daiya mozzarella-style “cheese” from the pizza-making, and for lunch I had this on top of pasta with tomato sauce, garlic and fresh basil. Goddamn it is tasty. I couldn’t even tell you all of its ingredients, although I know it doesn’t have any soy, which is BALLER because my innards do not like soy, and it might have something-something-coconut. Ooooh! And “pea protein.” Whatever that is. Speaking food, which we were and I always seem to be, Food Club officially struck again on Friday at Matt/Alex/Jordan’s. Aka, the Fortress of Cattitude. We made sushi and I honestly think it was the best sushi round ever. This is how making sushi with food club always goes down: start early, drink lots of beer. Wait for what seems like ages for the rice to be done. Chop vegetables. BUTTLOADS. Some you might like to try: green onion, alfalfa or radish sprouts, red pepper, carrot, cucumber, butternut squash (TRUST ME), sweet potato (TRUST ME MORE), pickled beets (JUMP OFF THIS CLIFF WITH ME), mango, kimchi. Other ingredients: cream cheese, sriracha or that dank chili-garlic sauce, sesame seeds. Do this while waiting some more for rice to cool. Drink more beer. Then finally make the damn sushi and make everyone wait while all of your rolls are ready to be sliced and arranged delicately on a pretty plate and then realize you have made way too much sushi and continue to eat it all, anyway. Sit in food coma/stupor with a bellyache (well worth it). The end. P.s. Maybe I’m done talking about Sushi in 5things? Or maybe not.
- My weekend obsession was owning this glorious pen in 16 different colors. Perhaps you’re familiar with Acute Art/Office Supply Lust. I will admit: it’s absurd. I haven’t felt such a fever for an object of art-making in a long while. Maybe not since I was obsessed with gouache and Dr. PH Martin’s ink last year. Anyway, I finally buckled and purchased a 16-pk of these puppies for a shamefully low price from the website of a shameful corporation, whose name I will keep secret to protect my spotless, tree-hugging reputation. Despite the shame, I am excited to start drawing in 16 super-human colors once they arrive in our mailbox. In the meantime, please enjoy this vintage advertisement:
- Since I was too busy working on my BLOG all dang day Sunday and missed my usual “family dinner time,” I called up Ma & Pa on Monday night and
askedinvited myself over for dinner. My mom leaves on a 10-day trip to Turkey this Thursday (buffered by one day in NYC at both the front & tail end of her travel days), and my dad leaves Friday for an 8-day trip back East to visit my brother, sister(s) and my deceased grandfather’s wife Norma. Norma who came of age in the 30s and 40s and worked as a typist and a journalist, went to an all-women’s college and is always encouraging me to build my writing portfolio, like,physically with photocopies of everything I’ve ever published. Which isn’t too shabby of an idea, but I’m not sure how I’d recoup everything in print that has my name on it. It’s still a very sweet gesture. Norma lives in the house in Kent, CT that she shared with my grandfather Paul for 25+ years. It’s an odd-smelling, creaky, dense, musty house filled with exotic sculpture from Zambia and Tanzania, ancient-feeling rugs, lots of VHS tapes and cat hair.
- ANYWAY, after dinner Mom kept asking “Where are the cookies?” but Dad & I forgot to get any at the store and she looked dismayed. But all was not lost; we ate honeydew melon (yes, that one) and I couldn’t find the 30+-year-old melon-baller that’s been in our family since before I can remember. Instead, I used the perfectly round stainless steel measuring spoon (1 tsp) and it made the most delightful melon balls! Have you ever had an ice-cold honeydew melon ball? Do yourself a favor. Then I wanted to show my parents my new blog and my mom said, “Hver snakk om sitt,” which sounds like “hvair snock ohm seet” and is a Norwegian saying that means “Each talks about his/her own [stuff].” It’s a tongue-in-cheek remark you can use when you’d like to subtly point out that the topic of conversation has mysteriously turned away from you and towards whoever you’re talking to. You can also shorten it and just say, “Snakk om sitt,” which is even punchier and wittier, apparently. My mom spent 16 months in Norway in 1968-69, as a student with AFS. She is fluent in Norwegian.