Doctor Zhivago Pretty

I hate snow. But it sure is pretty. I snapped this in Queen's Park this afternoon as I was crossing the U of T campus. The only thing I've enjoyed about this perpetually horrendous weather is how the snow made last weekend's Doctor Zhivago themed party very authentic. Siberia or Toronto? Tough to tell at the moment.

1600 Pages

What would be the most insane thing to do when I'm staring down the barrel of a thesis that seriously needs to be finished? Take on a 1600 page editing project.

Yes, this is what my desk looks like right now as I'm getting ready to dive into the manuscript. I think this may be the most extreme case of procrastination ever witnessed. But really, it's an amazing story and a huge opportunity and my brain is buzzing with the challenge.

Book & Bookmark #1

What do I love spying just as much as someone's book? The bookmark they're using.

Book: Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino
Bookmark: Postcard. Series 1, Number 4 (1918) by Georgia O'Keeffe

Matisse Dancing Out of the Hermitage

In today's Guardian, there's a great article about Matisse's Dance and its approaching arrival in London. I've already blogged about my incredible experience in the Hermitage and seeing this Matisse piece was such a huge part of it. Jones writes that the light filtering into the gallery on the winter day was cold and sombre. For me, on the late June day during White Nights in St. Petersburg, the light was cool on what became a hot morning and crystal clear. I really noticed the light in the gallery because I was the only person in it (apart from the guard who took the above photograph). Today's article brought the whole morning rushing back to me - one of the most incredible experiences of my life.

Jones's description of seeing the painting for the first time is great: "I saw Dance in St Petersburg four years ago, and it stayed in my imagination as a memory of pure colour, like an afterglow on a closed eyelid. It is a big, indeed massive canvas - nearly four metres wide and two and a half metres tall - in only three colours: blue, green and red. A full-scale 1909 oil sketch for the finished work survives in the Museum Of Modern Art, New York: here, the dancers are pink, the volcano of energy does not erupt. In the final, St Petersburg version, first exhibited in Paris in 1910, all is changed. Matisse is one of the greatest liberators of colour in the history of art."

Aloha Hawaii

It was very hard to leave this behind yesterday, as well as the turtles, of course. But Hawaii is always a fantastic vacation - it still hold the same magic it did for me as when I was a kid. And now not a single day off until the third week of February. My tan never lasts anyway.

What Is The What

Is this holiday reading or what? Dave Eggers on the beach. Just finished What Is The What today and it was the first time in a long while that I found myself fighting back tears while reading a novel. What I found most remarkable about the book was the way Eggers was able to recreate the sensation of meandering though the desert of Sudan and Ethiopia that the protagonist experiences. I felt hot and exhausted and slightly disoriented and yet so firmly marching forward with my reading - all at the same time. Two thumbs way up for this one.

Working Out West

When I'm deep into writing a chapter of my thesis, I can work anywhere I can spread out my notes (of which there are insane amounts: scattered on looseleaf pads, in the margins of books, in notebooks and even once on a cocktail napkin). And I sometimes prefer to be holed up at a desk that doesn't look out at much, so my computer screen is the main thing in my sight line.

But when I'm doing grunt work - researching, trying to find examples to back up my theories, basically playing connect-the-dots with lines of thought that shouldn't ordinarily be coming anywhere near each other, I need inspiration. I need space. So this is why where I am at the moment, perched on a rock overlooking the stormy Pacific Ocean, is the best possible place to be.

2007 in Cities

A great list this year (2005, 2006.) Same criteria: at least one night, minus the two cities I spent the most time in (London & Toronto). I pledge to do my best to make 2008 as good or better (would you be shocked otherwise?). New passport = lots of empty pages.

Cairo, Egypt
Bilbao, Spain
Montreux, Switzerland
Paris, France
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Budapest, Hungary
Sarajevo, Bosnia & Herzegovina
Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Split, Croatia
Hvar, Croatia
Vancouver, BC
Victoria, BC

Christmas Eve 2007

This is where I sat for most of today. In fact, this is where I'll be sitting for the next two days as well. Devouring my holiday reading and only moving to devour leftover turkey and Christmas cookies.

Holiday Reading 2007

While I've had to drag thesis work with me on my holiday (the quiet of my place on the west coast is too good to pass up as a working opportunity) I have also assembled my holiday fiction experience. I wanted to go for all paperbacks because much of my vacation will be taking place in Hawaii this year and I tend to treat books badly when I'm there. Sand, ocean, using them as daiquiri coasters....it's a tough life.

American Pastoral by Philip Roth
I've never read Roth. I find this hugely embarrassing. A friend whose opinion I value says that it's his favourite Roth. So I'm giving it a very tardy go.

Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino
Out, which I read on my trip through the Balkans this autumn, blew my mind. I had been hoping that Grotesque was going to come out in paperback before the holidays, but no such luck. I just couldn't wait any longer, so bought the hardcover and will try to keep the sand out of it.

What Is The What by Dave Eggers
I keep hearing great, great things about this novel. After the Auster, it will be the next tome I'm going to sink my teeth into.

Leviathan by Paul Auster
One of the Austers that I haven't read. I started it on the plane yesterday - so far, so good.

The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood
It's been awhile since I've read any Atwood (not since Oryx and Crake came out). I had the hankering for some feminist Torontonian writing and the paperback has been kicking around my shelves for some time.

Amsterdaming

What does one do for one of their last weekends as a Londoner? Go to Amsterdam, of course. Actually, it was coincidental timing - the purpose of the trip was a huge surprise girls weekend for a friend of mine.

Though it was my fourth time in the city, I had never been there with a local (well, a transplanted Vancouverite, but she has adopted Amsterdam with a vengeance) and it made for a wonderful weekend. We wandered the entire city and I never had to pull out a map. We ducked into little cafes (no, not coffee shops) for the best espresso every half an hour, it seemed. That is, when we weren't sampling the wine list in various bars and restaurants. The best was the Dylan Hotel, a gorgeous little boutique hotel with a large, yet cozy fireplaced bar that we propped up for awhile. (And this week, The Guardian named it the "blow-out" hotel on their list of the best hotels in Amsterdam.)

The shopping was slightly out of control in Amsterdam - I'm obsessed with all the little boutiques with so many small European designers that I'm not familiar with. I love buying clothes that I know I'm not going to have staring back at me on some other girl walking down my street in London. The shopping created quite an appetite which we satisfied in a great North African restaurant, where food was consumed while lounging on pillows and smoking sheesha. I had my tarot cards read - my future card was "ruin" and my friend's was "defeat". This charming fortune telling episode led to hitting the bar after dinner, an old Amsterdam institution called Hoppe.

The flight home was delayed by hail, which pelted the plane as we sat on the runway, watching the pellets fill the window frame. My friend was sitting next to the window and remarked that it didn't look very good, to which I replied, pointing at myself and the friend on the other side of me, "Well, you are sitting next to defeat and ruin. Seatbelt fastened?"

The Perfect London Weekend

You can't plan the perfect weekend, it just has to evolve. This one was particularly special, as I will soon not be a full-time Londoner - and also, I took the entire weekend off. No thesis. I needed it. What does the perfect London weekend involve?

Friday night champagne cocktails at the gorgeous American Bar in the Savoy. Followed by some Gordon Ramsay cuisine.

Saturday sleep-in followed by a good ole' English football game. Watched Fulham beat Reading at Craven Cottage, which included a spectacular walk along the Thames on the perfect autumn weather day. Saturday night was drinks at one of my locals with old friends I hadn't seen in far too long. Much catching up and howling about the indiscretions of our youth. (Something involving Spice Girls costumes, cheap red wine, and being pulled over by the police.)

Sunday - another crisp, fall day. I spent much of it wandering around Spitalfields Market with a friend. It's such a great place to find off-the-rack clothes by young designers for a fairly cheap price. I found a gorgeous little blazer and an equally cute clutch purse during my outing. Shopping was interrupted for the best eggs benedict in London, at Canteen. Now I've just finished an indulgent curry dinner and am settling in with tea and the weekend papers that are piled on my coffee table. And even more indulgent will be the brownie I'm also about to eat, purchased at Spitalfields. Because indulgent just suits this kind of weekend.