Counterbalance

Read More, Write More, Share More, Learn More Redux

Remember this? It's a go. Finally.

First up: Broadcastr.

Stay tuned.

Reader-Writer Moment #511

Though I often preface a reader-writer moment with detail about how and why a certain passage resonates with me, I offer this without comment as all is contained within:

"It's one of the most curious sensations that can be granted us by the chance of meetings and absences: that of being alone in an ordinarily full, noisy, or belonging-to-someone-else house. We suddenly have a sensation of absolute possession, of easy, long control, of amplitude -- as I said -- of relief and tranquility.

How good it is to be alone for a long time! To be able to talk out loud to ourselves, walk around without the bother of being seen, rest after a divagation without calls! Any house turns into a field, any room is as big as an estate.

All noises are alien, as if they belonged to a nearby but independent universe. We are, finally, kings."

                            -Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, #137

Pod Nods

The wow-factor of podcasts comes and goes for me. I'll be off them for years and then devour twelve in a series all in one afternoon like a gluttonous podcast pig. As one does with, say, all of Murakami or Breaking Bad or The Wire. Gorge on the goodness, etc.

Two podcasts have recently captured my attention:

• Literary Disco - Just announced and only one intro podcast in, I have a sense I'll dig this not because of the first book they covered, but because their credo rings true for me and reminds me of that long-winded, as-yet-unpublished post I wrote last summer in which I bemoan the state of book reviewing in favor of something accessible and passionate and less insider-y. The best bits of their mission statement: "As we looked around at the collection of podcasts, NPR shows, and Oprah Book Club-spinoffs that are available in the world, it occurred to us that it was hard to find the kind of literary discussion we love. Which is one that appeals equally to writers and readers. And one that is smart without being hyper-intellectual, or too 'insider.' Everywhere we looked, book talk seemed shallow or snooty." Indeed. 
• The Literary Salon - I only learned of this lovely series a few weeks ago and I've done what I promised myself I wouldn't do: devoured it whole. This is a delightful mash-up of authors reading their work and answering questions, all in front of a live audience. Nearly as good as being there, I tell you. My favorite one so far is with John Waters, natch.

I will try to consume the newest podcasts in a more balanced way, but...

Back Issues

I've recently resolved to finish the many projects around my house that have remained unfinished (or, let's be honest, un-begun) since we moved in sixish years ago. This means many things: Craigslist scouring, eBay madness, early morning monthly pilgrimages to the Rose Bowl Flea Market (not awesome on daylight savings, still tired from yesterday's shenanigans), tile sampling for a bathroom redo, upholstery swatches for a pair of old club chairs and many overwrought thoughts about how my home could be used and all the sorts of fun that could be had if things were just a bit more sorted in this shaggy old loft. All of which is too much thinking about things that are not nearly as important as, say, all the novels I'd like to read in March, clean drinking water for all and world peace. Still. This needs to get done.

All this over-thinking and design-dreaming led me to a place I often go when I'm in need of inspiration: back issues. These past few weeks, I've been somewhat madly flipping through all my old Dwell, Domino, Elle Decor and Metropolitan Home issues for ideas that could solve for some of the unique problems we have in our space. It has been an interesting journey, re-reading these back issues. When I come across a home or a feature or an idea that I first read about in 2006, I am reminded "Ah, yes! I remember this wonderful thing..." as if I'm visiting a familiar home, a treasured memory. Strange, how these strangers' homes are somehow buried in my subconscious and upon seeing a certain piece of art hung just so or a painted black floor change a room entirely, I'm reminded of the first time I loved the idea years ago.

Funny how these ideas and images are floating about within us and a single flip of the page can bring it all freshly back, when pre-flip there was no awareness of holding these images within and no sadness at not being able to recall them.

I'm not even really a back-issue-saving kind of person. I routinely recycle nearly every magazine or periodical that enters my home to avoid clutter. But for whatever reason, I thought these would be great reference material. As if my past self was saving these for my future self so I could have the pleasure I've had these past three weeks. "Ah, yes. I remember this wonderful thing..."

I also have several Believer, Tin House, Granta, Paris Review and Zyzzyva back issues (perhaps I'm a back-issue-saving-kind of person after all) and I'm hoping they'll have the same effect. I look forward to revisiting these stories and essays I loved when I first read them but that I have no recollection of at the moment.