"You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light" W. Whitman

Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams,  

Now I wash the gum from your eyes,  

You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life.

Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,  

Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,  

To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout, and laughingly dash with your hair. 

Song of Myself part 46

It was Walt Whitman's Birthday on Thursday, he's one of my favorite poets and I'm in an appropriately Whitman-like mood at the moment. I read through most of Leaves of Grass this winter and it's quite an undertaking, Whitman's poems are often lengthy, they're lists, declarations, and a lot of words I have to look up. But there's something about him and his thoughts that I respond to so I wrestle through. 

I really do love poetry, I hated learning about it in high school but for some reason started reading it two years ago, mostly Poe and Whitman and Yeats and Keats and Wordsworth. My English pen friend Aline sends me new books from time to time, Auden is one of her favorites. Literary analysis isn't always easy for me so sometimes I just stare blankly at a poem, or have to read it about 5 times, or decide it's dumb and stop trying. But then sometimes one will jump out at me, like in Dylan's Tangled up in Blue "and every one of them words rang true/and glowed like burning coal/pouring off of every page like it was written in my soul from me to you". Those I sit with for a while. And if I really like them I'll write them in a notebook I keep with my books of poems on my bedside table (sometimes poems put me to sleep. It's literary melatonin!). 

I go to Whitman when I need to disconnect from trivialities, to remind myself that true life is nature, divinity, and love. That those three are one. The rest really isn't worth fretting about. Easier said than done of course, I'm a natural worrier/prophetess of doom who unfortunately has a job where I can sit and over think all day long! Fantastic. 


I'd been particularly surly/pessimistic Thursday and Friday so came home from work and began Mission Calm the Fuck Down: 
PJs-check
hot tea in favorite mug-check
curl up in chair to watch Sherlock-check
hot bath with epsom-check
do some yoga-check
spaghetti with Sauce-check
bake and eat these incredible brownies-check

The funny part is that I calm the f*ck down as soon as I walk though my door! My apartment is my haven, I just need to figure out how to keep that calm with me when I go to work...hmm. I foresee a lot of ujjayi breathing in my future!


This weekend, I've been finding homes for all the treasures I brought back with me from the Aunties. I hung two prisms up in my front window and at 7 o'clock the sun hits them and my room is covered in rainbows. It's my favorite time of day! I've wanted some prisms since I saw Pollyanna as a kid. I hated it as it made me cry, but I never forgot the prisms. I know it's just refracted light, but it still seems magical. I think Walt would have been down with prisms. 

It's like the Cheapside hoard!

I now own a wad of tacks (allegedly) melted in the  Chicago Fire.

A little iron piggy that with the wad o'tacks and old keys make a little tableaux on a china plate I bought in Philly's Chinatown.

You see this little box?

It has a secret.

A couple sliding panels...

Oh! What's this! A secret compartment!?!

With a shell butterfly inside!

I got this fantastic vintage juicer at a flea market in Milwaukee with Miss Lyndsey. Now I have an excuse to make more lemon bars. Oh no.

I might have shrieked when Auntie M and I were digging through drawers and I spotted a big red dala horse. I'm perfectly fine with the fact I have a complete obsession with these horses. I've only got four. And a cookie cutter. And a tree ornament.


Crap.

I'm still debating where to put these guys. Auntie's Mexican doggie is so cute, as is the praying mantis! Who knew praying mantises could be cute? Miss Linda was traumatized by the ones Auntie M kept in their room as kids. She's fine now.

The fish dish was another I got in Chinatown (I also have an obsession with blue and white china. What of it.) and I put some seed pods I picked up in the cantina in it.

Auntie helped me put this music box on top of an old prescription box she'd given me ages ago. I scavenged  the mechanism from an old ballerina  music box of mine, it plays the waltz from Swan Lake.  Much cooler looking than the ugly thing I had to live under before, kind of steampunk-y? I found some more of these boxes at Aunties and now just have to find some music box parts.

This mirror from Morocco and little brass bell now hang by my front door.

This was an unexpected surprise! Magazines are a treat for me, other than some teen magazine I got as a kid the only subscription I've had was to Domino and I have mourned them ever since they closed years ago! So when I popped into the news agents at the Philly airport to pick up a magazine imagine my surprise and delight when I saw Domino had made a special edition! I've got my fingers crossed its the first of many!

Now these aren't exactly in my apartment, but they're definitely a bonus. Can you see them? I'll give you a hint, three of them in the bottom left quadrant.

BUNNIES!!!!! Three of them!! I watch them chew clover from my window. Their names are obviously Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail. No sign of Peter yet, but maybe he's still in Mr. McGregor's garden.

And a new fun thing I did myself, I spruced up my mousepad with the sashiko 'seigaiha' blue sea and wave pattern (mouse covering a part I smudged). 

I want to do some actual sashiko quilting at some point, but I figured this was good for now. Plus that pattern is very similar to the print on my headboard.

These are old things but I had to laugh when I looked at my desk the other day. Think I have a fondness for that shade of teal?? I worry sometimes (not very seriously, duh.)...but it really is the little things that I love. It's okay because Whitman loves them too.

I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be,
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.

Song of Myself, part 24

They aren't morning glories, but Miss Linda sent me these photos from her garden.

I'm holding on to the last lovely moments before I have to go back to work. Munching on brownies, drinking tea, loafing about in my PJs, and taking care of some things. Maybe things will be better this week, I hope so, I don't like being sulky. It's so stupid. I have a plan to improve things in that department but it's mostly a waiting game at this point, and I hate waiting. I just have to be a bold swimmer like Whitman says and trust that I won't have to tread water in the ocean for long.

Oh a lighter note, I give you Hipster Clown.

I know, right! I caught sight of him out my window last week and knew I had to tell Miss Anwen about it. Our following Facebook discussions took him into the realm of urban myth and then today I heard the sound of his squeaky wagon and there he was! Grabbed my camera, called Anwen and we can't believe it's real.

Thank you Chicago, thank you for the little things.