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Nikki Giovanni: I think one of the nicest things we created as a generation was just the fact that we could say, Hey, I don't like white people.
James Baldwin: It's a great liberation.
NG: It was the beginning, of course, of being able to like them.
(James Baldwin and Nikki Giovanni, A Dialogue, Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott Co., 1973, p.28.)
Birthday boy with crown.
Aunt Justine's bug cupcakes for Rye.
"1" cookies!
New wagon and new outfit.
The sweet auntie and Rye.
Marme and Rye.
"What did you make?" I ask Jonah about a school creation—little boxes taped together, some tubes and bottle caps attached.
"It's a camera," he says, "with a chain saw attached. And a numbers thing, in case I forget my counting."
We were up in the Marina today (we went to the Exploratorium to learn about Science).
While up there, we stopped in at Kara's Cupcakes 3249 Scott Street (in the Marina). Gabe and I split a Fleur de Sel (Chocolate frosted chocolate cake with a caramel center, and sprinkled with fancy sea salt) and Jonah got a banana cupcake. They were good—impressive.
But having sampled the competition, I have to admit my heart belongs to Citizen Cake 399 Grove Street (in Hayes Valley). In my humble opinion, they make the best cupcakes in town. They taste classic (homey, comforting, sweet, simple) and yet special, gourmet, and fresh. My favorite is vanilla cake with vanilla frosting. (They just opened a second location, called Citizen Cupcake at 2 Stockton Street on the 3rd floor of the Virgin Megastore.)
Justine sent this link to a cupcake blog to me recently: Cupcakes Take the Cake
It tells you where to get a cupcake in most American and some foreign cities. That's where the photo is from, too.
Chinese new year—
my boy's face in the head of
the dancing dragon.
My old life was starting and running City CarShare. City CarShare (as you know, dear reader.) My regular life now is with little boys, trying to get them to share their toy cars, so this letter (from the City CarShare newsletter) made my day when I read it today. It shows that car-sharing is in the culture now.
Hi City CarShare folks,
I thought you all might enjoy this story and how easy it is for kids to understand how City CarShare works. And how wonderful sharing can be.
We were taking a walk with our son, Alexander (3 years old) and our neighbors' son Henry (6 years old) when Henry found a brand new, in the box toy car (it was right after Christmas) on the sidewalk. Henry got very attached to the toy and didn't want to share with Alexander. For a few hours Alexander kept on asking if he could share the toy. We talked with Henry about sharing etc. (the normal parent spiel)… When suddenly Henry GAVE the car to Alexander and said "you don't have to give it back" — Alexander was thrilled (and I kept on saying "Are you sure Henry?")… At which point Alexander (a 3 year old!) said to Henry… "It's a City CarShare car" — My husband and I just looked at each other in amazement.
Walking home, with the car in hand, Alexander again said "It's a City CarShare car" and indicated he wanted to share it with Henry.
So now the boys share the car — a few days at Henry’s house… A few days at Alexander’s house.
Thanks for helping Alexander and Henry understand what sharing is all about.
Sincerely, Susan and David
I guess the Galway poem didn't help. (How is it possible??) I got sick again! Just hours after the strep throat/ear infection seemed to go. These last few days have been hell, as Gabriel's been sick too. We are weak and indigent. I have not done my poetry lines, or taken photos, or school essays/homework, or written here seriously in at least two weeks, maybe more. I feel so disconnected from being an independent adult. It is all just snot rags, advil, throat coat tea, and begging each other for naps while the other one groggily 'plays' with the kids.
I swear I will get back to my real life!
I want to write about an exercise we did last week in Gestalt class, because it was really interesting.
This exercise was about "projection", that is, the ways we project our inner feelings and stories onto others. We do this positively as well as negatively. This is something I am really interested in, because I know I do it chronically. Fritz Perls (the Founder of Gestalt) says it may be that up to 90% of what we experience is projection. It's strange to contemplate the world from this lens.
So, for this exercise you chose someone you did not know and then you sat down and for ten minutes said everything you could think of that you were projecting onto them. The other person says nothing. Then you switch. So weird!
I was paired with a man and I started in first, "You're a vegetarian; you're hetero; you're from the country, not the city; you're into yoga; you're a writer; you're an athlete; you ride your bike to school." And then, after a few minutes, it got hard, and you had to start risking a little more, "You have older sisters; you wish you didn't have to live in the city; you're dating several women; you're very careful about what you eat; you're from the Bay Area; you're for Obama; you're close with your parents."
It turns out I was right about a lot of it! But, some of the things I laid on him mystified me: he was in a serious relationship, living together in fact (why did I see him dating multiple people?); he was from the East Coast, not here (I'm from EC too, why didn't I pick up on that?); he had one brother and no sisters (I was pretty sure he had feminist sisters and had been close to women growing up).
He guessed some things about me correctly, that I want to be an artist (poet); that I am a mother; that I am not married but am partnered; that I live in San Francisco. He said something really perceptive about how he thinks I must be struggling hard to be a mother, be a serious student, and be a writer. This made me feel really recognized. Then some other things he got wrong: I'm not from the Midwest; I'm not the youngest in my family; I'm not into theatre. I noticed that I felt happy when he guessed correctly about me, and sort of ashamed when he did not.
Later, when we debriefed in the larger circle, some other people said the opposite, "I can't believe she guessed I was from Connecticut! What makes me seem like I'm from Connecticut?? I thought I had gotten all that out of me!"
I guess the opposite of projection is, in a way, asking questions and reserving judgment. This sounds easier than it really is. In fact it is an explicit rule in my Group Dynamics class; that each person is the authority on their own feelings. But this is hard to really allow inside of me. In my own half fucked-up, half-experienced way I feel like I can sometimes know what another person is feeling. (Gabriel would say I am wrong about this.) But anyway, it is hard for me to turn off my sense of what I "see" going on in another person. And this happens in Group Dynamics, sometimes. I think I "see" that another person is upset, though they say they are not. I don't know what to do with this.
As I write this, it seems absurd to follow the rule that you have to accept whatever the other person says about themselves at face value. In fact, I feel like I have had breakthroughs and success as a client and as a listener using that sense to say, "You seem angry," or "You seem hurt". I have denied it, and so have others, even when it is true. And the outside perspective has sometimes been a help "I seem hurt? Well, maybe I am..."
"Last year, there's was this girl I really wanted to stalk. I used to lurk around outside her house, but she didn't go out too much. Then I realized, she had a blog. So, I guess it was kind of lazy, but I just started reading it, and I could tell where she hung out—I didn't really have to follow her. I could just show up at her favorite cafe or movie store and watch her when I had the time. It was great! Really convenient. Then I started listening to her podcast, and watching her videos on YouTube, and her friends videos which she was in. Frankly, I was getting in over my head—the material was just piling up, and I had to shift around my time, in order to really make sure I got the stalking in. But now, she's on Twitter, and wherever she goes, whatever she does, each minute thought or thing she sees is recorded in real time. And I'm just like, 'ok, I can't keep up! I give up.' I feel like a failure, but, I have a life, you know?"
Jonah with his other, better parents.
Jonah had SO much fun in the snow this weekend. We've got to find a way to get him out to play in it more.
*
I've been so sick, and Gabe's been sick, and Rye. I don't know how the days have slipped by. Now I'm looking around, trying to get back in touch with all the pieces of my life again. Hello!
I think we need a poem. A really good one.
I studied with Galway Kinnell at Squaw Valley one of the last years he taught there. It was very sweet to get to hear him read one night, he sounds like the Duke of America. And just to see him there shuffling around like a bear—it felt like some poetry might linger on us.
He came to Carmel one year to read on my birthday, and I took Gabriel down for it.
Anyway, I do love him, and this is from his recent book Strong Is Your Hold.
Pure Balance
Wherever we are is unlikely.
Our few kisses—I don't know if
they're of goodbye or of
what—or if she knows either.
Neither do I understand why it's
exhilarating—as well as the other things it is—
to know one doesn't have a future,
or how much longer one won't have one.
Future tramples all prediction.
Hope loses hope. Clarity
turns out to be
an invisible form of sadness.
We look for a bridge to cross
to the other shore where our other
could be looking for us
but all the river crossings
all the way to the sea
have been bombed. We look for a tree—
touch it—touch
right through it—sometimes nowhere
is there anything to hitch oneself to,
and we must make our way by pure balance.
This is so and can't be helped
without doing damage to oneself.
