Friday, November 21, 2014

Taproot : Bread

So pleased to have a short piece about my grandmother's (and mother's) bread in the new issue of Taproot, and looking forward to trying the bread recipes therein!



Monday, November 17, 2014

Snow and

Radio silence!

Because...

I was busting my ass trying to get this book to the printers, and then this book launched, and then this book funded. But it is here, folks. And, if I do say so myself, it is pretty, and full of good things!

If you want a copy, I hope you'll consider supporting our Indigogo campaign to help support our overhead expenses (licensing, printing & PR), and of course, also get a signed copy sent to your door.

Rick Bass said of the book: "These writings are as rich and dense and hard and lovely as the state itself." I agree.



Merci and enjoy. (And yes, I hope to be back here a little more often, when I'm not busy drinking, knitting, sitting stove-side and roving with my wily children.)

~R

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Women I Love: H.D.



It's fall in Vermont and I'm hungering for the kind of literary and artistic blasts of inspiration I used to get when heading back to college in Providence each September.

There's also a Lunar Eclipse in Aries unfolding, and according to my new astrological guide (you didn't know this about me, did you? No. Nor did I. But here I am, confessing in public–) it's a time to get one's liberation on. A time to let one's wild child out of the bag. For me this is manifesting as a desire to get back to the female artists whose lives inspire, whose work turns me on, who remind me of a higher calling and a higher form of liberation.

And so I'm going on a little virtual tour, and bringing you along for the ride. There may be more than a few poets in the mix.

C.D. Wright writes: "It is a function of poetry to locate those zones inside us that would be free, and declare them so."
And who is this? This here is H.D., i.e. Hilda Doolittle, who you can read an immense amount about if you follow the link.

To our freedom, in its variant forms, friends.

-R




Friday, October 3, 2014

praying and being cool

The world you see is just a movie in your mind.
Rocks don't see it.
Bless and sit down.
Forgive and forget.
Practice kindness all day to everybody
and you will realize you’re already
in heaven now.
That’s the story.
That’s the message.
Nobody understands it,
nobody listens, they’re
all running around like chickens with heads cut
off. I will try to teach it but it will
be in vain, s’why I’ll
end up in a shack
praying and being
cool and singing
by my woodstove
making pancakes.


-Jack Kerouac


http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/03/12/jack-kerouac-golden-eternity/

Thursday, October 2, 2014

today...







I completed two books this week. Which means I hope to spend a lot more time walking with my camera (and my children). Today...

Friday, September 19, 2014

Good morning, fall: 

veery, apricot-corn muffins, coffee, cream, blackberry jam, 
cheddar, bees, pollen, boys, sweet mustard, sun, tea. 

My walls are being coated in plaster. 

My children are growing older (and sweeter, and wiser).

Contemporary Vermont Fiction is nearing completion.

Blessed be, blessed be, blessed be
and forever and always:
grateful.



Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Dandy



Happy birthday to my dearest Pops (i.e. Dandy), who has dedicated his life to building good houses for others, loving his wife & children & grandchildren, providing a good education for the children in his community, being a steward of the woods and land he grew up on, providing good food for others, preaching simplicity & sustainability, modeling humility & humor, decorating our hillside with funny stone art, fearlessly loving and caring for all of humankind, practicing curiosity, and, in recent years, being one of the kindest and most badass grandpas that ever walked the earth.  (He has also, on this fine morning, eloped with my two-year-old so that I can work and write this post). All touched by the concentric circles of your generosity and compassion are ridiculously lucky.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

a dreamer

Because it is fall now, and with every new season I seem to have to try and figure out who I am (again). 


Who are you this early autumn?





Saturday, September 6, 2014

the world salvaged from the lords of profit




Teach the children. We don't matter so much, but the children do. Show them daisies and the pale hepatica. Teach them the taste of sassafras and wintergreen. The lives of the blue sailors, mallow, sunbursts, the moccasin-flowers. And the frisky ones—inkberry, lamb's quarters, blueberries. And the aromatic ones—rosemary, oregano. Give them peppermint to put in their pockets as they go to school. Give them the fields and the woods and the possibility of the world salvaged from the lords of profit. Stand them in the stream, head them upstream, rejoice as they learn to love this green space they live in, its sticks and leaves and then the silent, beautiful blossoms.

*

Attention is the beginning of devotion. 


-Mary Oliver, from "Upstream"