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radiantfracture

May 2025

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radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Does anyone know of any good online instructions for laying out a chapbook in Word or Canva, or even Google Docs?

I say good because I have found several bad ones that I thought would confuse my students or that were specific to platforms they're probably not using.

Obviously, none of these applications are much good for book layout, but they are the ones my students are most likely to have access to. I don't want to ask students to download any new software for the purposes of this assignment.

§rf§
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
From writing group today, a very small poem sort of thing.

* * * * * *

Look
My faith
Can move
Very
Small
Rocks
               and
I will not claim
I can heap them
Into an alp

Nor that I could
Wear a mountain down
One POCK
At a time

But I promise
For the very likely nothing
That it’s worth
I will keep moving them.

I will keep
Moving them. One by one.
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Aurora

Night fell.
Half a moon loomed
and shrank.

The stars bloomed
and I was still transfixed
by the thought
that I could never repair
the mistakes of even
this afternoon,
let alone the year.

I would have liked
to throw myself away
and start over.

I stared at my phone
until photographs appeared.

I put on my shoes.
I went outside.

The sky
was dancing.
radiantfracture: Frac with orange tentacle hair (Octopus head)
Happy paper post today from [personal profile] ursula -- a note and a bookmark for North Continent Ribbon, (which I can get in eBook!) -- in a blue envelope with a D&D stamp on the front which I believe depicts Drizzt Do'Urden. (also two rather good ones of coral, win-win).

I have actually managed a little reading -- Premee Mohamed's novella The Butcher of the Forest, which I enjoyed -- an into-the-woods fable with the dilemmas of life under colonialism woven in.

As I type out the title, though, I'm not 100% sure what it refers to. The forest I get; I'm just not sure about the butcher. But my focus is unimpressive lately.

Also about 75% through Bookshops & Bonedust, which is a) charming b) not quite my thing c) an interesting study in structural choices.

Yesterday I realized I was all out of trousers: I am down to my last pair of jeans and they are getting daring, not to say downright hazardous, in the fork, and if they give out at work that would be the third pair of Rather Inappropriate Trousers I'd worn in one term.

Tonight I set out just to walk through some of my angst in the light rain and lowering sunset, but I ended up at the thrift store picking through the jeans section. I never undertake outings on school nights, but the lack of lower articles did need to be solved before the weekend visit to Vancouver. Now three pair are in the dryer. It's a bit of a crapshoot because since Covid Value Village no longer lets you try anything on.

ETA: I have tried on the jeans. Abate your breath no further. The results are known.

-The faded-black ones are a little too big, but can be worn.
-The nice green ones are a little too tight, but probably workable.
-The jean-coloured jeans are also too tight, especially in the waist. I can only do up the zipper by lying down, but having done so, they're not uncomfortable. (Okay, maybe they are cutting my right kidney in half. But only the right one.) (I call these the cock jeans because they have a strategic faded area where your junk would sit if you dressed left and had the kind of tackle that caused wear and tear to denim. Does that mean they are also Inappropriate? Probably.)

What I really want is some fashionably sweeping baggy jeans suchlike the fashionable have, even though my small silvery somewhat spherical person will look very silly in them. But such trousers cannot be got anyplace I've looked yet (which is to say at Mark's, where jeans are eternally skinny and low-slung).

My job tomorrow is to print off some materials for mom and dad about how to choose a retirement home, and get a gift for the staff at the hospital. Then Friday I fly over.

§rf§
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Harbinger
Violeta Garcia-Mendoza

What does it mean that I’ve been dreaming
about sunlight moving through old houses

again? Vine-shadow on wood floors, endless
rooms, the sound of wingbeats without birds.

Pittsburgh wisdom says you need a week in Florida
when you can’t get out of bed. I up or down

my dose of antidepressants when the clocks change.
In the dreams, I wear a white dress, dust dragged

along its hem. The houses are dis-inhabited
but I know I've lived in some version of them.

In real life I try to leave the past empty, open;
a good mother haunts her life only in forward motion.

When the nerves at my right hip shriek down my leg,
I know it means my body needs to stretch.

I should exercise, drink more water, rest—
but I get through winter reading Gothic horror;

I trust myself with only so much selfishness.
In this city, potholes become a sign of character

as much as of neglect. I remind my children all is still well
when the bridges sway. In traffic, we count turkey vultures

circling in the steel gray and call it soaring.

+ + + + + +

This poem came as a prompt in my inbox, and I liked it. The language is quiet; I keep feeling that it might drift towards prose, and then the images will arrest that: "I wear a white dress, dust dragged / along its hem."

I like the play of line breaks: "I up or down / my antidepressants."

I felt this: "I should exercise, drink more water, rest— / but I get through winter reading Gothic horror," only I think if I took up more Gothic horror it would probably improve my winters remarkably.

What do you hear here?

§rf§
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
As if haunted by the worst fear,
you open doors and doors,
sinking into the deep house, its calm
featureless hallways, seeking
the perfect empty room.

You are fleeing from the rustling
bright mothwinged creature
at your back.

Despite your skin
electric with alarm,
I regret to inform you
the wings are attached.

It is true that joy is a way of being lost
in the open. It is a monster
to the carefully cached heart.

Yet here is the sky still,
burning open all the eyes of the house:
one too many doors
and it is yours.


+ + + + + +


I got Mendoza's poem "Harbinger" as a prompt in my inbox today (see next post!). Her poem made me think about my own dreams of exploring houses and interior spaces. These are joyful dreams, not like in this poem. But they also maybe are about turning to the interior when the exterior seems fearful.

Possibly this poem is a little too sentimental, but it is hard for me to claim joy. I could use all the help I can get.

§rf§
radiantfracture: The words Learn Teach Challenge imposed on books (Learn Teach Challenge)
Just putting this here so I can find it again -- someone did a really nice markup of John Reed Swanton's versions of Haida stories, one of which I often teach:

https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/74172
radiantfracture: a white rabbit swims underwater (water rabbit)
Here at the equinox
the day swings closed,
but I can open my door
and climb through
the roadwork barrier
to look at the big all-night machinery
chugging, and the column of steam
and the empty hose reels
like Ferris wheels
for raccoons.
radiantfracture: Gouache portrait of my face with jellyfish hat (Super Jellyfish 70s Me)
A propos of nothing other than that I was looking at their videos for creative writing, here is Alok Vaid-Menon.

Content notes: Mentions of transphobia, internalized transphobia and homophobia, bullying, suicidal ideation​


Alok Vaid-Menon Finds Freedom In Body Hair
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Good art things by people I know today!

Attended a lovely afternoon poetry reading and concert by [personal profile] yarrowkat on the indie platform https://onlineconcertthing.com.

And a new podcast episode is out from Wizards & Spaceships! Excited to listen and make my aimless wandering more aimful.

A propos of nothing in particular except a mysterious entry on my reading list, do you have favorite readings (poems, articles, essays) on the idea of home, return, going or not being able to go home again?

§rf§
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
In a literary article that has drifted too far downstream for me to be likely to find it again, I found a quotation from this Rilke poem I had not known before, and was smitten -- I think by the final lines.

I wanted to write a Very Clever comparative analysis of two different versions, but I am tired. Maybe I'll just post the versions and invite comments. Let the analysis be emergent.

Original German )


(Stephen Mitchell translation)

To Music

Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.

Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what?—: into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,—
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.

(Scott Horton translation)

To Music

Music. The breathing of statues. Perhaps:
The quiet of images. You, language where
languages end. You, time
standing straight from the direction
of transpiring hearts.

Feelings, for whom? O, you of the feelings
changing into what? — into an audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You chamber of our heart
which has outgrown us. Our inner most self,
transcending, squeezed out, —
holy farewell:
now that the interior surrounds us
the most practiced of distances, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
enormous
no longer habitable.

§rf$

A tradition

Sep. 1st, 2024 04:13 pm
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Autumn Day
Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Stephen Mitchell


Lord, it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine:
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one
whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening
and wander on the boulevards up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Or, a history of substitutions.

Pursuant to my attempt to cook more, [personal profile] ursula brilliantly suggested I try ancient Babylonian recipes.

Tonight, despite my marking load and a possibly busted hot water heater, I decided to make tuh'u.

This stew is pretty well-known as ancient Babylonian recipes go -- it comes from the Yale Babylonian collection. Here's a tiny 2019 interview on NPR with Assyriologist Gojko Barjamovic.

(The accompanying article mentions the deeply frustrating and familiar history of a woman suggesting the right answer to a puzzle and male scholars ignoring it for decades.)

I used the version of the recipe from the Yale Bablyonian Collection site here.

I also watched along with this cooking video, which adds a little bit of history around the Babylonian New Year, and uses slightly different proportions (more vegetables).

This is a lamb stew, but I think you could easily make it with just the beets, like a kind of proto-borscht, or with some umami alternative. If I make it for a class one day, I'll do the beet version.

Here's the Yale recipe:

Ingredients:
* 1 pound of diced leg of mutton or lamb
* 1/2 cup of rendered sheep fat
* 1/2 teaspoon of salt
* 1 cup of beer
* 1/2 cup of water
* 1 small onion, chopped
* 1 cup of chopped arugula
* 1 cup of Persian shallots or spring onions
* 1/2 cup of chopped fresh cilantro
* 1 teaspoon of cumin
* 1 pound of fresh red beets, peeled and diced
* 1/2 cup of chopped leek
* 2 cloves of garlic
For the garnish:
* 2 teaspoons of dry coriander seed
* 1/2 cup of finely chopped cilantro
* 1/2 cup of finely chopped kurrat or ramps/wild leek

In brief, you sear the meat in the fat, then add the onion and cook until transparent, then more or less dump everything else in except the leek and garlic. While you mash the leek and garlic in a mortar and pestle, boil the rest, then add your remaining alliums and simmer for an hour.

I am including the ingredients list less to be helpful and more to complain about late-stage capitalism. My local grocery chain, despite being cavernous, is pretty useless, and I had to make a series of more and less plausible substitutions.

First, there was no stewing lamb. I ended up with ground lamb so as not to pay the eye-watering prices for the fancy cuts. If I did this again, I might get it on the bone to add to the broth.

There were also no coriander seeds and no shallots. There was no arugula. (I think it's generally considered a spring green, but the weather here is so temperate that there's also a fall harvest.) I could have used baby broccoli greens, but I went with a different brassica -- Brussels sprouts.

For the sheep fat I substituted olive oil, which the video assured me was a reasonable decision.

I didn't crush any seeds of any kind, so my spices are not very authentic. I do own a mortar and pestle. Crushing the garlic and leek may be the second time I've ever used it?

According to the video host, Barjamovic suggests half-Weiss/half-sour for the beer if you don't have any Babylonian beer. (Wild sour seems like it would makes sense.) I happened to have only Pilsner, so I used that.

In the pot, the stew was a really beautiful mixture of red beet broth and bright green Brussels sprouts.

I think I overcooked the lamb. I'm not sure this needed quite so much oil, though it did make it rich and give nice mouth feel.

Because I had no seeds, I ended up putting the ground coriander right into the stew, which was good, though a little goes a long way.

Next time, I'll try to match the veg a little more closely and get some coriander seeds.

Tasting!

This is good! It's pretty mild -- again, throwing the bone in would probably enrich it. The broth is a beautiful red colour. Cumin's a great support to any umami dish. The earthiness of the beets is of course a joy.

I don't taste the cilantro as a separate note at all, if you're worried. It's just a really nice, slightly aromatic stew. The sprouts got soft in a happy way.

In salt fat acid heat terms, I would be tempted to add some acid to bring out piquancy -- there was mention somewhere about vinegar. (Maybe that's the beer, but I'd like more.)

(Squeezes in some juice from a highly authentic plastic lime) Yep, I think that definitely enhances.

8/10 would make again. I want to make bread to go with it!

§rf§

Afterthought: I also should have cut the beets smaller. Mine were more chunked than diced and I bet it meant the flavours didn't combine as smoothly as they might've.
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Rain has been pouring on the house since six am. I had to turn on the heat. Through the skylights, the house is bathed in an aqua-silver twilight, though it's the middle of the morning.

The poem in the Poetry newsletter today was about Simone Weil.

I quite liked it. It is sad, a poem of loss.

Poussin

After T.J. Clark


Two underworlds, in Poussin.

The one touched by the force
of necessity, the other
remaining untouched.

Simone Weil makes her way
to the refectory
in Ashford. She walks slowly
down the corridors, with
or without help.

The hem of her gown brushes
the maculate plaster
of the long wall.

She could live forever
inside this moment,
she thinks, or begins to think
(the beginning of a thought).

She is wrong, of course.

The great hand bravely
channels the fear our mouths
have become, so suddenly.

Just the base of the thumb
illuminated, in its
flex, away from the viewer.

Two underworlds,
& the pollen settling
against the washerwoman’s
drying fabrics:

semantic parlor
in which the magic lantern
images flicker.

Weil’s elbow, akimbo
with what’s left of her body,
& Weil herself,
aware of the image
she becomes in the long hall.

It doesn't have to mean
anything, the other patients
who saw her
or whom she saw,
their depleted & depleting
forms.

Ignorance is my true labor.
The text wounds me
into a history
of belief, phrase by phrase.
(The forensics, Weil
might well have stressed.)

The chaste thirst
of the classical
running alongside its own
shadow, its double
it can’t, ultimately, know.

Two underworlds:

the foreshortening
of the prone body, & the cry
that precedes it,
genuflecting
to the fiction that it trusts.

* * * * * *

The poem sounds ekphrastic to me ("Just the base of the thumb / illuminated, in its /
flex, away from the viewer"), but I have not found such an image.

I know Weil almost exclusively through "The Iliad, or the Poem of Force," so it's that mind I listen for here, and hear whispers: "two underworlds," "The chaste thirst / of the classical / running alongside its own / shadow, its double."

(Although -- is any thirst of the classical chaste? Mine certainly isn't, though it may be pure.)

Of Weil's other philosophy and theology, I cannot really say whether or how it speaks here. If you know her work better, please chime in.

* * * * * *

You can find the poem on the Poetry Foundation website here. The page includes a recording of Waldrep reading the poem, but he uses Poet Voice, and I cannot recommend it. I turned it off because it was making me like the poem less.

§rf§

[ETA] Note: the T.J. Clark this is after seems to be the British art historian, who writes about ekphrastic poetry in the LRB here.

Oh
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Have you got a favorite in the genre of Literary Cookbooks?

Or -- though this is a separate genre and a bit out of fashion now -- Those Novels with Recipes in Them? (See Like Water for Chocolate.)

I have a cherished book produced two decades ago through the print-on-demand place, called Regional Cooking from Middle-Earth: Recipes of the Third Age.

The cookbook is divided regionally -- Shire, Bree, Regions of Rohan, etc., and also has an Index by Season. I think all the recipes are given both in English and in the local languages. It is the very exemplar of a labour of love.

I am almost certain I have never cooked anything from this book, but I feel happier knowing I could. There are three kinds of lembas. The recipes are simple and practical. There is a rabbit stew. Tarcoron, "high mound" is better know in this age as Yorkshire Pudding.

Why the question

I was thinking of trying to make batch cooking feel more appealing by making it literary-flavoured. I did once make a pretty passable Boeuf en Daube for a party.

(So the Surrealist Cookbook would be unhelpful in this instance. I want to make real food for my real body to eat. I just want to eat some ideas at the same time.)

--any edible and palatable crossover would do, really. Cheers!

(For example, I count New England Spider Cake as literary because I learnt it from a post by [personal profile] sovay .)

§rf§
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
What has it got in its pocketses?

(right now)

[ETA] My answer is very dull (phone, keys, wallet). I am at least wearing my Dress Shorts (no cargo pockets). I am impressed, though, by how much people can fit in their pockets.

Oh! I also currently have a card for a local toy and memorabilia shop, for educational reasons.
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Again, just if you feel a spark of interest or think of a story that did this in a good way for you -- what about when a character experiences personality collapse, more or less?

The fourth character quality in Ten Candles is the Brink, which is a little harder to explain, but is something like the character's breaking point, or rather what they do when they break -- the nastiest version of themselves that they collapse into, often, though I've seen it played for beautiful irony.

It's framed as a statement, "I have seen you..." and then what your character does at the brink -"lie to a friend," "accidentally shoot someone," "run away in fear," "steal from the helpless," etc.

The reward for using this in 10C is to get to re-roll your dice. You're rewarded for story juice by a mechanical payoff.

So, I guess -- what's an interesting state of collapse for you to play?

* * * * * *

Just answer if it's fun, okay? No expectations.

I want a little project to occupy myself in case I need to be away more often in the winter, which I suspect I might.

{rf}
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Question 3 is about hope.

What's an interesting source of hope or faith for a character in an RPG to have -- interesting for you to play?

In Ten Candles hope is a quality that, when used, allows the character the possibility of surviving longer, a source of fortitude represented by an extra D6, so I'm loosely thinking of it that way. 10C conceives of this as a scene you could play out, like "I will find hope when I find my cat again."

* * * * *

Yep, still thinking about the thing and looking for some quasi-randomized ideas, if you need a distraction. If I use them for anything, you get credit, of course.

This isn't necessarily a 10C playthrough that I'm envisioning, but that's a framework that I know and like, so I'm using it for the moment.

I'm currently just noodling around without much direction, but I'm trying to think of a project to occupy my free time that doesn't cost money or use a tonne of brain lightning.

{rf}
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Thinking about a thing and looking for some quasi-randomized ideas, if you need a distraction.

What's an interesting strength for a character in an RPG to have -- interesting for you to play?

It can be a strength or skill of any sort, from a standard stat to a mundane expertise like knitting. Spellcasting is a bit too broad. Necromancy is closer to the level of specificity I'm thinking of. Over-specificity is fun (ex. can only reanimate dinosaurs).

What makes a strength or power fun, beyond just "I win all the things"?

As per the question about weakness, I'm currently imagining a mostly-mundane-ish-world RPG like Ten Candles.

Strength we can define in the 10C way as "a quality that helps your life more than it harms it," which doesn't mean it couldn't prove suddenly catastrophic in a final deluge of dramatic irony.

{rf}

PS no obligation to answer all of the questions! I'm just free-associating right now.
radiantfracture: Beadwork bunny head (Default)
Thinking about a thing and looking for some quasi-randomized ideas, if you need a distraction.

What's an interesting weakness for a character in an RPG to have -- interesting for you to play?

Say a mostly-mundane-world RPG like Ten Candles, where the threat may be numinous or chthonic but the people are solidly midgardian.*



Weakness we can define in the 10C way as "a quality that harms your life more than it helps it," which doesn't mean it couldn't prove useful in a sudden surge of dramatic irony.

{rf}**

*That said, I can also see how supernatural and/or divine powers and flaws could be fun in such a setting, especially if concealed at first, so, you know, fill your boots.

**You can tell I'm posting from work because I have easy access to curly brackets.
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