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rock & roll

Two Navels and a Vest, Elliott Landy, 1969, Woodstock

Things I'm Digging

Five Things I’m Digging This Week, #3

Rock, recipes, flowers, other people's doorsteps, and a self-indulgent picture of my kitten.

September 29, 2019

Bob Dylan Chronicles Volume One

Things I'm Digging

Five Things I’m Digging This Week, #2

What’s old is new again in Things I’m Digging, featuring vintage tunes, vintage clothes, vintage…

September 13, 2019

Le Chat Noir

Changing Times & Their Places: A Museum Roundup, Summer/Autumn 2019

From turn-of-the-century Paris to the Summer of Love at Woodstock, this season is full of…

August 14, 2019

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queenjapprox

Crossing Waterloo Bridge, 2014. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Crossing Waterloo Bridge, 2014.
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So many of my favorite memories from London are of just walking around. Even on the most banal errand, you never know when you'll look up and see something remarkable. None of the cities I live near are walking cities, and it makes me appreciate being able to travel on foot and see views like this even more. I'm so looking forward to standing over the Thames and seeing this one again soon.

Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime; And

Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmlesse follie of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short; and our dayes run
As fast away as do's the Sunne:
And as a vapour, or a drop of raine
Once lost, can ne'r be found againe:
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade;
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown'd with us in endlesse night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying;
Come, my Corinna, come, let's goe a Maying.
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from “Corinna’s going a Maying” by Robert Herrick
(The best of all May Day-themed carpe diem poems. Go read the whole thing now.)

The first spring tulip has arrived! 🌷 February

The first spring tulip has arrived!
🌷
February has been a wild month, weather-wise, jumping from one extreme to the other, from freezing to over 80F. Today is the first day of March and it is storming. I guess this is “coming in like a lion”?

The Silmarillion has a reputation for being a hard

The Silmarillion has a reputation for being a hard book to read, but I would argue that that's not entirely the case. It's not so much that it's difficult as that it's probably not what you expect.
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The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are pretty straightforward. They're novels with a linear plot, and while there are obviously fantasy elements and magic and allusions to history and songs, they're relatively cozy novels with lovable protagonists that you can relate to.
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The Silmarillion, on the other hand, is a lot more like reading mythology, for example Ovid's Metamorphoses or the Eddas. It tells the history of the Elves through the end of the First Age of Middle-earth, but each chapter tells a story whole unto itself, though characters move on through the book and the events build on each other. I'd compare it most of all to Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain, which tells a legendary history that chronicles the rulers of the isles, including such notable figures as Brutus of Troy (descended from Aeneas), Lear (of Shakespeare fame), and Arthur (you know the one).
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Keep that in mind and you'll be fine reading The Silmarillion. Just be aware that there are a lot of characters, many of whom have similar-sounding names, and they travel to and dwell in a lot of different places. The genealogies and glossary in the back of your book will be your friend, and make sure you have ready access to a good map of Beleriand. It will make all the difference in trying to keep track of who is where doing what!

The Silmarillion was my favorite book for years, o

The Silmarillion was my favorite book for years, one that I kept going back to again and again. Tolkien always regretted that Britain did not have an extant mythology, and he started writing some of the stories in this book in response to that lack. As a work of mythology or legendary history, The Silmarillion is unparalleled. It had been a long time since I read it, but turning to it again after all of these years has reminded me how much I love this book, and has told me that I almost certainly always will.
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This is the story of Middle-earth before the more familiar events of the Third Age, when The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings take place. It's the history of the Silmarils, the greatest works of Fëanor, the most skilled of the Elven smiths, and chronicles the lives of his family and decedents as they wage wars against Morgoth, the fearsome predecessor to Sauron.
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This is pure tragedy almost from start to finish, rife with murder most foul, treachery, deceit, and wasted potential. It's also a quieter tragedy, more thoughtful and deep, examining the inexorability of change and the passage of time, and the futility of trying to fight against it.
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It's the history of the Elves, from their awakening under the stars in Middle-earth to their last departures from the Grey Havens, and what was lost from Middle-earth forever afterward.
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If you love The Lord of the Rings, you should read The Silmarillion. You'll understand so many things so much better; not just the tales half-told in verse around campfires, or Shelob's origins, but also Elrond's refusal to ask the Fellowship to make oaths regarding their journey, and why Sam wept at the passing of the Elves.
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You should also read The Silmarillion if you love myths, legends, folklore, or epics, because more than anything, that is what it is: a beautiful surviving epic of an imagined, long-forgotten past.

I feel like I've been asleep for all of October. I

I feel like I've been asleep for all of October. I remember seeing it— the changing leaves, the golden light, the last of the flowers— but what happened? What did I do? Just lived in a dream, I suppose. Maybe this is what was really going on in stories when people got whisked away to Fairyland.
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A wise person once said that when you're a child, time stretches out because everything is so new and different; you're learning all the time. As we get older, the days seem to fly by because we let them become too much the same. When there's nothing to differentiate one day from another, they begin to all bleed together into one big blur. To slow it down, you need to work in something different every day. Even if it's something small, it will break up the monotony and buy you a little more time.
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I'm trying to think of little things to change this fall and winter, to keep me from dreaming my whole life away before I realize it's gone.
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(I think this advice came from @maggiestiefvater - if anyone can confirm this or knows differently, please let me know.)
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I may have gone a bit overboard for November, though— I find that I have committed myself to readalongs for The Silmarillion and Lapvona, a writing project for NaNoWriMo, and of course I’m helping host Thanksgiving.
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I think this is what’s called “overcommitting.”

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