the reason for stars

@notbecauseofvictories / notbecauseofvictories.tumblr.com

sarah. expresses self via the tag novel.

love is stored in the kitchen

perhaps the world ends here - joy harjo // the world unseen (2007) - dir. shamim sarif // text post - @jacebeleren​ // daidai’s kitchen - @pakchoys​ // text post - @bicarusgf​ // in the kitchen - helena janecic // letter to donald windham - tennessee williams // お仕事  - @tomokohara​ // summer kitchen - donald hall // perhaps the world ends here - joy harjo

Anonymous asked:

You know what hobby would go well with scrapbooking… bookbinding to make your own books from scratch too

Ah, see the great thing there is, I have no interest in bookmaking! I think it's neat and people get very creative with it, but I do most of my actual reading through the library, and keep physical books around mostly as mementos.

(.....I have a lot of mementos.)

So in terms of "getting into a hobby because I was bored once and couldn't handle it" bookbinding is relatively low risk.

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Very upsetting that on this fresh morning in this broken world I am subjected to emails

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I don’t know what you’re doing with your one wild and precious life but I’m making tables in word documents

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The soft animal of my body does not love spreadsheets

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All my life I was a bride married to amazement but unfortunately I also had to attend zoom meetings

"oh no, cabbage worms on my cauliflower plants!" and other sentences I---a young person in the city, up at 4:30am because that's when I wake up now---say without even the slightest hint of irony.

okay there is a certain distinctly juvenile pleasure in hurling those tiny wriggling worms as far as I can throw them into the next yard.

there are many ways to inhabit adulthood, but even after a week of my new job, of running errands, talking with colleagues and loved ones---the thing I am most proud of is remembering to put on sunscreen before I take myself to the zoo.

Anonymous asked:

where do you think the best food in Chicago comes from?

There is no actual answer to this question. The "best food" in any place is not actually about the food itself; it is about who you were with or why you were there and potentially how drunk you were---while food can heighten or sharpen the emotions you're feeling, it can't create them whole cloth.

That being said: there's a woman on the west side who sells tamales. I've never seen her (at least, to my knowledge) but my coworker used to buy and then bring in huge batches of them whenever their paths crossed. Even lukewarm, even in the sterile office, wolfed down in between meetings and phone calls, they were exquisite.

......which isn't really a contradiction of the point above, because I'm still not 100% sure whether I was responding to my coworker's generosity, seizing a little slice of joy on rough days, or just enjoying the tamales themselves.