American Slang, Inappropriate footwear, and Boston 365

I feel like an editorial note is needed about my photo-taking techniques. I basically want to point out that I have none. I don’t even use a “real camera” to take these– all of my photos are taken with my camera phone, pretty much while I’m walking (or standing around). Often I don’t even break stride while I line up a shot. The other thing is that I pick weird moments to take my photos. I pick moments when I’m alone, or on my way somewhere. This series is about me and this place, not the people in this place.

Also, this week kind of became “take pictures of my feet week.” I blame Diluvian.

September 19: Government Center, with a big blue sky– Quincy Market in the background. One of my students this week told me that what struck her the most the first time she came to America was how beautiful the blue sky was. This was followed by a shot at the Public Gardens (taken about 30 seconds before the swan bit the little girl, if anyone’s curious.)

September 20: Wearing sandals in inclement weather. I tried to take a picture while it was still raining, but by the time I got off the bus again it had finally stopped (dammit!)

September 21: One randomly interjected branch of autumn (I think the bird poop in Boston might be a little corrosive. Check out the holes in the leaves.)

September 22: Same tree as last week, further along in its reddening. I keep looking around at the green things everywhere in Boston, like I’m frantically trying to commit them to memory. Like I’ve never done a winter in the Northeast (in fact, I’ve never NOT done a winter in the Northeast.)

September 23: I AM SO CAFFEINATED AND IT IS AMAZING. FEAR ME, I NO LONGER STOP FOR BREATH WHEN TALKING (actually, not as scary as it looks. Tea bag mountain here took a few days to build.)

September 24: In the library someone spilled the paper assholes all over the floor. It was like carpet lice. Actually, at the time I was in full-on writer-brain mode, with no way to get to a writing place, and the paper assholes struck me as oddly whimsical and fantastic, which is why this picture was taken. This general stupidness is followed by me taking a rather dramatic shot of a statue on campus of the archangel Michael (being generally bad ass).

Now I’m going to actually do my readings for Monday, and drown myself in Erik Satie’s pretty, pretty music.

Until next time, love the blue sky, watch the leaves, and stay caffeinated.

This is Water

I think sometimes it is just as important to hear an author speak as it is to read their words in print. This is why I love David Sedaris’s involvement with NPR, and why I love when authors (again, like Sedaris, and also Neil Gaiman) read their own works. It’s fantastic.

Here’s David Foster Wallace, giving a commencement speech that is about consciousness, essentially. One of my professors brought it to my attention via Facebook.

It’s long. It is also worth your while. Take some time and just listen. You probably owe yourself a break, anyway.

Also, for your pleasure:

David Sedaris on Easter, in Grammatically Unstable French.