Bookmark No. 14
Outlander, the peace of wild things, style, doing things that won't compute, and more
Dear Reader,
Here is what I am savoring, reading, and watching; and seven thin[g/k]s bookmarked and explored this week.
Savoring my weekly croissant dates with Gigi, my 18-month-old dictator
Revisiting old stomping grounds like coffee shops and neighborhood strolls looks different now with a toddler, and incorporating her into my everyday feels in unequal measure bitter and sweet (the former bc of logistics that prevent me from just waltzing in and immersing my nose in book, for example; and the sweet outweighing the bitter, because she adds joy to my everyday in ways that feel pure and sacred).
Reading Cassandra Speaks
Watching Outlander’s final season
I refuse to believe this show has gone through more than a decade, and I’m curious to see how the loose strings are dealt with. The concept of time travel continues to awe me on so many fronts, including the philosophical, and I think the show does a wonderful job weaving storylines across time, continents, and lifetimes. (The children’s book popping up in the final season — Goodnight, Moon — gave me such warm feelings, as it was one of the first books I picked up for Gigi (the ones Gigi has reached for naturally begin to hold a special place in my heart, and I make note of where and when I got it for her; our copy of Goodnight, Moon, for instance, I got at Shakespeare & Co. in Prague, and it was one of the sweetest travel additions to my suitcase).
Wendell Berry’s narration of his poem, “The Peace of Wild Things,” for when “despair for the world grows in me.” The juxtaposition of wild and peace soothed me in unexpected ways, much like when sensory overload from a hard day is eased by succumbing to contrast (back flat on the floor for change of view, cold plunge/mist on face for transition, pressure against palms and fingers for calm have been a few I regularly used this week for sensory repair).
Easter Oratorio — lovingly took me back to sitting in on King’s College Choir in Cambridge during my study abroad days
Having made granola this week, I took it out of the oven only to be confronted by the thought that I may have done something wrong, as the texture was crumbling upon touch. I quickly learned that the last step in the recipe called for patience — letting the final product sit with itself and solidify, to come into its own shape and identity undisturbed. It was a meditative step for me as much as it was a necessary one for the recipe. (PS—if you make your own granola, try adding dried mulberry; divine)
The Modern Middle East, Explained. Three hours is a commitment, but worth it for recharging the part of my brain that longs for my university days spent cocooned in international relations.
“Style is simply about being yourself on purpose” — I have been thinking about style a lot recently; and how thinking of self-style as something superficial has just been an excuse I’ve been using to avoid putting in effort in a time when everything around me and within me as a new parent was evolving; and how I am reacquainting myself with my own agency, and part of that includes not shirking away from my wardrobe (and being okay with being in an exploratory phase of self-styling). This week, I purchased these mary-janes.
An art-filled New York home, which reminded me of the stunning property that will forever remain part of my bachelorette soiree and later the first place where Gigi got into a pool.
A good challenge: Doing “something that won’t compute,” and being “like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction.”
Chat soon.
Ever lovingly,
Ani