Elinor Nauen

The conventional view saves us from the painful job of thinking.
~ John Kenneth Galbraith

It sure was less work when I merely went along with my friends on issues: "Everyone agrees on XX so I do too." It has taken an enormous amount of educating myself to develop my own thoughts & opinions on things. Sometimes—often—I end up  Read More 

We bought a new mattress—here's the old one on its way out. The new one is foam, which is a little disconcerting because there's so much give—until you settle in & then you feel totally supported. Yay for home improvements.

I found this in an envelope but have no idea how I (Johnny?) acquired it. He thinks it may have been a premium from the Poetry Project but I don't think so. I do kind of feel like it did have something to do with the Project but I don't know what. Most people who have seen it have thought it's by the British sculptor Anthony Caro. It does look like his work but I have never seen anything on paper like this from him. It's an original, which you maybe can't tell from the photo, a collage of bits of colored paper, and signed.  Read More 

22 poets, 65 minutes of Bill Kushner's poems & good-humored presence last night at the Poetry Project. Kudos to Peter Bushyeager, Ed Foster, and Lewis Warsh for a lovely selected, Wake Me When It's Over.

An underrated poet: why? Because of his friendliness & modesty? Who has written anything better than "My Father's Death"?

What we as a country need is something totally outside politics that we can all agree on or at least get behind: a scrappy racehorse, the World Series, a baby in a well. Those have done it in the past but there doesn't seem to be even a possibility of it these days.

Abetta has been here longer than I have—for a month or a hundred years, I don't know.

But it was easy to find out: Established 1929. Date in Location 1949.

I don't think I know one single person who works there by sight. When I was young, you didn't walk on First Street, & if you did, they were the guys who would hoot & holler. So I got in the habit of never glancing their way, & even though I'm invisible now, I still don't. They were possibly the only business on the block, aside from the Catholic Worker & a lot of people selling heroin. I used to think everyone on my block worked at night because there were guys hanging out all day, playing bocce (that area is now a semi-fancy park). I used to think all those teenage girls were obliging babysitters.  Read More 

It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.
~ Upton Sinclair

No commentary needed.

Look closely... look closely at the signs....

The picture might be too small so here are hints:
First & First Finest Deli (red)
One plus One (nail salon) (green)
one and one (bar) (green)

How can I talk about this without having a stroke? How can I say those words I don't want to utter?

Maybe I'll quote Robert Browning (1812-89):

My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee that pursed and scored
Its edge at one more victim gained thereby.

The long view (Dred Scot! Plessy v Ferguson!)... the art view (see above)... the enraged activist view... the reminder that it's not just us it's John Paul Stevens & hundreds of law professors ... the cute cat view—naw, just can't do that one today.  Read More 

I leaned over Johnny to take a picture of the beach house atop the building on the corner of 1st & 1st & got something very different.

I like to write about events as close as possible to when they happen, but in this case I wanted to read some of the book before I talked about the west coast (by way of England & Canada) poet David Bromige (1933-2009). I don't remember ever meeting him or hearing him read. His name was always on my radar but I'm not sure I ever read more than a poem or 2 in a magazine.

I'm making up for lost time! He's an amazing walk through every style & philosophy of contemporary poetry. A lot is better than a little so I'm not sure any excerpt can give the flavor, & that's probably why the few poems I read along the way didn't strike me much. Like Whalen or Kyger, you need immersion to appreciate his mind and impact.
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Not a whole lot more to say after my second visit to the Wojnarowicz show at the Whitney.

I caught more of him talking & his writings this time around. I caught the dissonance of looking out at the piers where he spent time from the giant window of a half-billion-dollar art museum. I hoped there's a young Wojnarowicz  Read More 

It's the rough side of the mountain that's the easiest to climb; the smooth side doesn't have anything for you to hang on to.
~ Aretha Franklin

My smart kind funny sharp husband. I heart Johnny. It kills me how I've been in love with him for so damn long. Even when I can't stand him, I'm weak-kneed around him. Read More 

She was born the day Woodrow Wilson was elected to his second term—before women had the vote—and on the day after her 100th birthday voted for the first woman to run for president from a major party.

Florence was a remarkable person. If she was behind something, people were all right with it. If she backed you, you didn't care who criticized you.

She lived to a month short of 102, funny, elegant, canny, loving.  Read More 

I've been thinking about the state murder of Sacco & Vanzetti in 1920, victims of right-wing politics & anti-immigrant sentiment. I've been thinking about David Wojnarowicz & the AIDS crisis of the 80s. I've been thinking about the millions of women who've been assaulted by men. I've been thinking that at one time or another immigrants, gays, women, POC always get the heady idea that they are people. Sometimes they become people—Italians, for example. But more often than not the PiPs (People in Power) shitcan them back to the Age of Cruelty.

Fight, lose, fight, win, lose, fight. It never ends.

We have no choice to be fight, but sometimes it's tough to remember that we are people. Read More 

I just learned from Hito Steyerl in her book Duty Free Art: Art in the Age of Planetary Civil War that captchas (Completely Automated Public Turing Test[s] to Tell Computers and Humans Apart) were not just random but were once used by Google to check scanned texts (Google Books) & addresses (Google Street View) for accuracy.  Read More 

We liked this production, set in early WWII, which was incorporated into the play in a satisfying & illuminating way. At the Gingold, on Theater Row.

We used to go to a theater called Meat & Potatoes, on west 39th, which mostly produced Shaw. We were generally the youngest patrons, by decades (& almost still were yesterday). We were regulars until they produced a play by the theater's owner or impresario, with a two-hour Act I featuring naked men & not much else (no plot, no characters). It was so awful we fled at the intermission & never returned.

But the Gingold—we'll be back!  Read More 

A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
~ Italo Calvino

Today [tomorrow as I write this] we read Ecclesiastes (Kohelet) in shul as part of celebrating Sukkot. We read this every year, & every year I am moved & provoked again. Definitely my favorite book of the bible, for both its poetry & philosophy.

[No post Tuesday.]  Read More 

Johnny finally understands that it's the glory not the cash that counts in HQ trivia (unless I were ever to take home the $100,000 winner-take-all pot).

When you win, all your guesses seem obvious, & your thinking sharp & quick (you only have 10 seconds to answer each of 12 multiple-choice questions—1 wrong & you're eliminated).

The winners split a $5,000 pot. They usually start out with half a million or more players & end up with anywhere from a couple hundred to a few thousand.

This was the second time in 6 months that I managed to make it all the way through. Now that they owe me $2.39 I may sign up for Paypal & collect. Read More 

It's already 5 & yes, I've done the laundry, some farflung errands & a little work, but not the things I got up early to do. Oh right, I got up so early I went back to sleep till 10. Onward, sisters!

Such a great show—I joined the Whitney so I could go see it a couple more times (& see the Hoppers etc too). His paintings, photos, edge bring back the mid-80s, which never seemed so far away till I saw the docks & streets as they were then. Things never change all at once but they change totally, and in such a short time. I remember seeing him on 2nd Ave shortly before he died, already (& always) so far away.  Read More 

who walked right out in front of me when I had the light & you didn't, causing me to slam on my brakes rather than hit you & skid in the light rain, in turn causing my bike to catapult & me to fly over the handlebars, while you went your karma-ugly way without a word or a hand up, you owe me $17 for the replacement brake cable. I'll wait out the sore wrist on my own.

I'm off tomorrow anyway for Yom Kippur.  Read More 

“Everything is so superb and breathtaking. I am creeping forward on my belly like they do in war movies.”
~ Diane Arbus

Isn't this great? I long for that feeling of awe & surprise, which happens so rarely. But it could hit more often, right? What can I do to get it?

Also, happy birthday to Hank Williams, William Carlos Williams, & the other half of the Double Yews, Annabel "Annie" Lee.  Read More 

I am the most middling of middle children—the middle of 5 and the middle of 3. That is, middle of 3 close in age & 5 overall. My oldest & youngest sisters are both far away in age (17 & 10 years), whereas I'm the second of 3 kids born within 4 years.

The article (click on the caption to learn more about how wonderful we middles are) points out that with so many families now having just 1 or 2 kids, middle children are an endangered species. Not entirely—some 12% of women in their 40s have 4 or more kids.  Read More 

Skip this one if you're interested only in deep thoughts. I've had a couple of small days of crossing ancient tasks off my to-do list: sending thank yous from last month & this, paying my yearly internet fee, buying pens at Staples & bread at the market, answering emails, cleaning out one big corner of my office—it's been smelling musty in here & I was a little worried there was a dead ferret among all the bags of melted cough drops, bookmarks, & unreadable notes. I sent my estimated taxes, a couple of invoices & a belated birthday postcard. I washed a canvas purse I haven't used in years but may now. And so on.

Not a memorable day perhaps but it's enjoyable to have tasks rather than crises.  Read More 

Vienna is now the world’s most livable city (passing Melbourne), according to a recent short piece in The Economist. Their rankings consider some 30 factors related to safety, healthcare, education, infrastructure, the environment. Six of the top 10 are in Canada or Australia, and midsize cities do better than large. Of course it depends on one's taste, expectations, desires, and more to make a place livable.

Why Vienna? I remember someone saying Vienna without Jews is nothing special. There's a searing documentary, Vienna Is Different, made 50 years after the Anschluss, & the people still took no responsibility—we were victims not monsters, was their basic attitude.  Read More 

How can I get in a good groove when I'm interrupted all the time, in small ways (tea, anyone?) & large (the holidays started Sunday night, so I've just had 2 days off).

I like to think that in the way olden days this was the highlight of the year—a break from a rigid groove, a trip to the capital (Jerusalem), new smells & sights....  Read More 

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
~ Virginia Woolf

In the spirit of the New Year, I will be thinking about the truth of myself all day today & tomorrow.

I'm writing this the day before, Sunday morning. Right now I'm mostly looking forward to tonight's dinner but I'm hoping I slip into the spirit of self-searching & repentance in shul.

I will also think about what truth's I want to tell about other people, per Woolf.
 Read More 

My first trip to Spain, I wrote a 5- or 6-page poem. This is all I managed in Scandinavia:


Scenery (Norway)

wow!
oh my god!
wow…. wow!
holy shamoly!
did you SEE that?!
did you see THAT?!!

Despite having a landscape shockingly unlike anything I've ever seen, I knew where I was in Norway. I have no doubt that's because I grew up with predominantly Scandinavians, so all the faces I saw were the faces of home, of my schools & friends & neighbors. I recognized the rugged yet delicate men, the many tall fair women, even the cadence of the language hit my ear like the old days. Almost everyone I know from South Dakota has had the experience of meeting someone with a pronounced Minnesota accent, only to discover that they are actually from a Nordic country. I remember being surprised once in the old Norwegian part of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, that I felt so oddly (and comfortably) at home—this after living in New York's very different demographic for decades. A couple of blondes & a Lutheran church or two & I was right back in Sioux Falls.  Read More