The weekend was nice and relaxing until I decided to make fried chicken Sunday night. And this after my attempt at homemade biscuits for breakfast turned out bite-size instead of big and fluffy. As I said to Martin today over leftovers at lunch, “Fried chicken is something you eat when you’re in the South, ok.”
We started the week going about our routine as usual. Martin works at his computer in the “cave.” It’s dark and cold in the dining area between the living room and kitchen where his desk is. I sit at the front window, which is great for light and warmth but requires discipline.
It’s easy to get caught up in scenery outside: lots of passers-by; dog-walkers, people pushing baby strollers, joggers, cyclists, men at work on the house across the street, blue jays chirping away, squirrels scurrying about, flowers in the yard blooming beautifully… Where was I…
I participated in a Zoom group writing session. Afterwards Sarah and I discussed each other’s writing excerpts. Reading hers somehow conjured an image of Albrecht Dürer’s engraving of a knight, which I had thought I drew as an exercise (below) from the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain years ago. But I had just confused the exercise, based on a drawing by an unknown German artist, with Dürer’s engraving because of the knight.
If I’m not on my own page wrestling with words or looking out the window, then I might be on the laptop skimming headlines on nytimes.com or nzz.ch. I don’t spend too much time on it though. It’s usually more of the same or updates thereof, and the whole right side of NYT is opinion.
However, today I did go further down the page and read Peter Beard’s obituary by Margaret Fox. Damn. What a life. What an obit. I had not known Peter Beard had photographed Karen Blixen/Isak Dinesen, author of Out of Africa and Babette’s Feast, both damn good movies. Who can forget this scene in Out of Africa or any of Babette’s Feast, truly a feast for the eyes and senses.