Happy Easter!

Things are Looking Up

I'm currently reading Paul Auster's Winter Journal, which seems particularly fitting as this winter is refusing to go away. So much about Auster's writing resonates with me – I find his work to be full of tenderness and humanity. His autobiographical writing particularly touches me and when we heard him speak about his work and read from Winter Journal at the Cheltenham Literature Festival last autumn, I was pleased to see that the man is as warm-hearted as his writing. He has chosen to write this memoir in the second person, which has the effect of excluding the audience as he seems to address only himself while simultaneously being the voice of everyone; it is intimate and open-armed.

After the show, Dad and I raced around to the book signing and managed to get our own signed copies. But when it finally came to meeting my literary hero, I found myself completely dumbstruck and could only beam at him. Yet, I feel that a connection was made; at least, he grinned back.

I came across this passage in Winter Journal yesterday, which again made me feel a connection with Auster. It is a segment in which he describes the physical sensations of living an ordinary life:

'feeling the different sensations of walking on wooden floors, cement floors, tile floors, and stone floors, the different sensations of putting your feet on sand, dirt, and grass, but most of all the sensation of sidewalks, for that is how you see yourself whenever you stop to think about who you are: a man who walks, a man who has spent his life walking through city streets' (Auster, 2012, p. 59).

I too think of myself as someone who walks, someone who has spent my life walking through city streets. It's my default mode of transport, as easy as breathing, free and reliable.

However, recently it has been observed that when I walk I always look down. I like to think that this is for practical reasons – to keep an eye on where I'm going, to avoid uncovered manholes, banana skins. Looking down has other advantages too - like spying these crocuses peeping out from the snow. Or these footprints of man, dog and child.

But my walking partner tells me that I'm missing out by focussing on the pavement. So I've started to look up and pay more attention to the world around me when I'm out walking.

Looking up this week I've noticed how the old and the new combine in very pleasing ways in the City Centre as Queen Victoria looks down at the Iron Man.

 

And I spotted this pair of pigeons snuggling up together in the branches just outside our house as the icy wind continues to blow us through March.

Hurray for Harold Lloyd

When I was young my favourite thing on TV was a half-hour clip-show of Harold Lloyd films. It was on BBC2 just before teatime and I loved it. Last night, I remembered why I was such a big fan when we went to a showing of Safety Last for the opening night of the Flatpack Film Festival.

The film was shown in the Great Western Arcade shopping centre in Birmingham which had been turned into a cinema for the evening. We had glasses of sparkling wine and chocolate truffles in the lily-filled 'foyer' beforehand and then, wrapped in blankets against the chill, watched the film with live piano accompaniment by John Sweeney.

It was fantastic - one of the most magical and entertaining cinematic experiences of my life. Harold Lloyd was a genius of physical comedy and the audience last night seemed to enjoy it as much as the original audiences in 1924 must have done. Harold had us in stitches.

And John Sweeney on the piano was wonderful - he kept time absolutely perfectly and it was easy to forget that the 'soundtrack' was live. It was a truly great night.

There's lots more on over the next ten days so be prepared for more posts from Flatpack!

Simple Modern Sewing

Just as I have finished making the first addition to my SS13 wardrobe, the weather has regressed to winter. I think it'll be a while before I'll be wearing this Liberty-print shell top.

The pattern is from a Japanese sewing book I bought recently, Simple Modern Sewing by Shufu To Seikatsu Sha, which I'm very pleased with. I've attempted sewing in the past but never really graduated beyond 'beginner' level - I've made quite a few bags and cushion covers, even a wrap skirt and a sun-top, but I've never really got beyond the basics. This book, however, might just get me into the intermediate class. It's a selection of simple patterns that form the basis of a range of garments - this top, for example, is adapted from a dress pattern. The Japanese styling is cool and cute as well.

I'm looking forward to having a go at some of the more complicated patterns - I might even learn how to insert a zip! But I won't be wearing anything from this book yet - for the time being I'm stuck with AW12.

We Dream of Ottolenghi

We've recently become obsessed with Yotam Ottolenghi's cookbook Plenty after trying his Cauliflower, Grape and Cheddar Salad, published in the weekend Guardian a few weeks ago.

Everything we've made from his book so far has been delicious so we've been trying out his recipes on our friends this weekend - on Friday, I made the Mushroom and Herb Polenta and, on Saturday, Mark made the Roasted Parsnips and Sweet Potatoes with Caper Vinaigrette. Both were a big success.

To top off our foodie weekend we went to see Jiro Dreams of Sushi - you can see the trailer here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UELAu70qXlI - which is a documentary about the best sushi-maker in Japan. It's a really inspiring film - not because the sushi is meant to be the most delicious or because the restaurant has been awarded three Michelin stars - but because Jiro has such inexhaustible commitment to his work.

Jiro says he feels 'victorious' when he makes good sushi and that he has never hated his job. He has been making sushi since the age of ten, having been abandoned by his parents, and is now 85. For 75 years he has made sushi every day and he never tires of it. Every time he makes sushi he says he gets better at it but he believes he can still improve. By repeating the same steps over and over again, he believes he can refine it a little bit more every time.

I came away from the film feeling really inspired to keep striving for improvement in my own work. Marking batch after batch of student assignments has often felt like a chore but, after watching this film, I can now see that I've been getting better at it all the time. And with each new assignment I could refine it a little bit more.

I've just got to try to remember that when the next lot comes in!

Women's Day

If you used Google yesterday you would have seen this image for Women's Day.

Mark says he's spotted me in there - but I can't think what he means!

To the Wonder

I don't care what anyone else says, I liked Terrence Malick's latest film, To the Wonder. We went to see it last Sunday evening in a tiny, half-empty cinema. As the lights came up, embarrassed laughter broke out amongst the audience - 'Really?' said one guy.

But I enjoyed it. It's true that it feels a lot like a 90s Calvin Klein perfume ad in places. It's also true that some of it doesn't make much sense. It probably is a bit pretentious. But it is also very beautiful and I think it does capture something of the complexities of love. Mostly I liked it because, while the dreamlike cinematography, the minimal dialogue and the Spanish and French voiceover makes this film quite soporific, it also demands concentration in order to keep sight of the narrative thread. All in all, I found it to be a very pleasant - almost meditative - experience!      



Arrival of the Modern Mind

 

We went down to London on Monday to visit the British Museum's Ice Age Art: The Arrival of the Modern Mind exhibition. It was a lovely sunny day and the pigeons were enjoying basking in the warmth on Richard Rogers' roof over the courtyard.

The exhibition is a collection of tiny artefacts - some of which are 40,000 years old - which offer a glimpse into the depths of human history. I found the exhibition really moving - it was amazing to stretch so far back in time and find a people so fundamentally familiar. This image, for example, is of the oldest known portrait of a woman. We know little about these people - how they lived or what they believed - and yet the objects they made suggest minds that work in exactly the same way as our own. Most interesting for me is the fact that, although these people must have had brutally hard lives battling against cold, harsh conditions in order to find food and shelter, the expression of the spiritual and artistic seems to have been of primary importance to them.  

Spring Cleaning

I used to think that knitted dish-cloths were a waste of time - why would anyone want to spend hours making something so boring? But then, a few years ago, I had some cotton yarn leftover from a summer cardigan project that was marketed as 'dish-cloth yarn' and I decided I might as well use it up by knitting a dish-cloth.

It was a revelation. The original knitted dish-cloth lasted for ages and kept its lovely colour. I vowed that there would be no more grey and shredded dish-cloths for me!

To mark the start of spring, I've just made some new dish-cloths in lovely, zesty colours. Can't wait to do the washing-up!