Twitter, Twistori, The Peep Diaries, Oversharing...

It's taken me a while to warm up to Twitter, but since incorporating it into the sidebar here at Secret Notebooks I feel a bit more inclined to occasionally tweet. I'm not sure what everyone else uses it for, but to me it's been similar to scribbling down a thought in a notebook, and I do enjoy trying to condense whatever it is I'm experiencing down to 140 words or less. I don't tweet often, but you can follow me here if you're so inclined.

Today I also discovered Twistori, a live feed of tweets that use the words, "love, hate, think, believe, feel, wish." It's fascinating to watch the thoughts scroll past, a never-ending stream, some funny, some sweet and poignant, some utterly pointless. Watching it reminds me of a recent book, The Peep Diaries, by Hal Niedzviecki, subtitled "How We're Learning to Love Watching Ourselves and Our Neighbors."

I haven't read it yet, but here are some reviews:

"'You need to know. You need to be known.' That is the compulsion fueling what cultural critic Hal Niedzviecki calls 'peep culture, the bastard love child of gossip'— our mass addiction to twittering, tweeting, snooping, spying, blogging, gawking at reality TV and YouTube, spilling our secrets on Facebook, MySpace, Bebo, Ping...the list goes on. 'Call it surveillance with benefits,' he writes of our consuming need for human connection in The Peep Diaries (City Lights), a virtual descent into the loneliest of worlds. — Oprah Magazine

"For obsessive Twitter-ers and Julia Allison haters, journalist and cultural critic Hal Niedzviecki's fascinating nonfiction book might just be required reading. In it, he examines the world of what he has coined 'Peep culture,' the oversharing of one's life through blogging, Facebook, YouTube, etc., for a mostly anonymous audience." — AM-NY

"Oversharing." There's a word you hear thrown out more and more often, sounding somewhat like an accusation (though I may be sensitive about these matters). In fact "oversharing" was chosen by Webster's New World Dictionary as 2008's Word of the Year. Are we indeed oversharing? How much weight do any of our tapped out thoughts and proclamations (whether tweeted, blogged or YouTubed) really carry? I realize this debate can go in a variety of different directions - some more Orwellian than others - and will have to save that post for another day. But I will say that to me, sharing online feels similar to blowing the fluffy seeds from a dandelion. Hard to resist — but once they're released, where my thoughts float and my words land is (almost deliciously) out of my control.

The wind blows hard among the pines
toward the beginning
of an endless past.
Listen: you've heard everything.

— Shinkichi Takahashi

Flutterings

Reflections

Spontaneous Sunday

Friends, wine, 2 exuberant dogs, fresh mozzarella and crackers, the last rays of the long-absent summer sun. I hope all of you had similarly good combinations today.

Home Sweet Home - in the Peony

More shots of our tiny, golden friend...

He's beautiful!

He's sideways!

And perhaps he's waiting for a kiss. Though more likely he was waiting for an unsuspecting ant.

Five Senses Friday No. 11

See:
• I was clipping peonies to bring inside for the mantle when I found this little tree frog nestled inside one of the flowers This is the sweetest thing I've seen all week. Obviously I left that bloom alone. More pics of him coming up.

• Fresh flowers (the uninhabited ones) on the mantle
• At dusk, a storm cloud in the distance, full of lightening
• Several minutes of blessedly bright sun and blue sky — but like a mirage it passed by quickly

• Rainbow colored Twizzlers someone brought in for the candy dish at work – almost as frightening as the bags of super-sized pink and white marshmallows I spotted at the grocery store
• Because we're rearranging rooms I now have an almost normal sized closet with a light in it, allowing me to see my clothes for the first time in 9 years.

Taste:
• Panko-encrusted Basa, pan fried with a side of young swiss chard
• Chocolate cake with butter cream frosting from Wright’s Farm Dairy
• Cheesecake and Death By Chocolate torte at Fireworks in Brattleboro, VT (time to start working out again)
• Pan fried risotto cakes with big curls of shaved parmesan and sauteed mushrooms

Hear:
“I think I’ll go back to being straight for a while.” overheard on the sidewalk. I assume she wasn’t talking about her hair.
My dad at home on Father's Day, "I miss this place so much."

Touch:
• Raw meat, yuck
• Socks of wet grass clippings, after walking on the freshly mowed lawn

Smell:
• Fresh cut grass
• Sharp arugula
• Essential oils of cedar, peppermint, lemon, and pine as I went through the house cleaning on Thursday

Goodbye, Michael Jackson

When I was 10 or 11 years old, I wanted nothing more than to be Michael Jackson's girlfriend. I distinctly remember spending most of a family vacation in New Hampshire listening to Off the Wall over and over and over again on my Walkman, and pining for this handsome, graceful pop star, who I knew would love me just as much as I loved him, if only he could meet me...the scenario for which I had all plotted out in my head of course.

I recently found these in a moldy-smelling cardboard box in my parent's basement. A small part of what was once my prized Michael Jackson paraphernalia collection. Of course in addition to trading cards and puffy stickers there were books and posters and newspaper clippings. There were nights laying on the wall-to-wall carpet in the living room mesmerized by his appearance at the Grammy Awards or on the news — reduced to tears in fact. The glove. The moonwalk. The voice. Ahhh! I even had a special red winter jacket not exactly like the infamous "Thriller" costume but heavily inspired by it.

At that time of my life my parent's were at their most religious I think, and prayers said aloud before bedtime were an absolute requirement. Since I "loved" him so much, my mom strongly suggested I pray for Michael Jackson (and later Prince as well as David Bowie, both of whom obviously needed their super-sexy souls delivered from certain damnation), and I did include him in my nightly prayer list for several years, right there alongside my grandparents.

Though I don't pray much anymore I may make an exception this evening, while listening to Off the Wall and thinking about the man who made my 10-year-old heart flutter. May he rest in peace.

Inspiration: Blind Photographers

And if I ever lose my eyes, I won't have to cry no more.

— Cat Stevens, Moonshadow

I don't know about the rest of you, but I have often wondered what I'd do if I lost my eyesight, and have specifically fretted about whether I or not I could figure out a way to continue taking photographs. So this short piece on NPR yesterday about the Sight Unseen exhibit currently hanging at the California Museum of Photography certainly caught my attention. The work of 11 of the most accomplished blind photographers in the world (like Umberto Eco, by Evcam Bavcar, above) will be on display until August 29th. If you can't make it to the show the website offers a rich gallery of photographs (including a narrated description of each) and essays about each artist and their creative process. Fascinating stuff.

From the NPR post I followed a comment to the website BlindPhotographers.org where you can browse a slide show of images (like Windy Beach, by Yamaneko) and visit a blog full of articles like FAQ: How Do Blind People Know What They Are Shooting? and Musings: Vision, Light and Photography.

There's also a blind photograher's Facebook group, Flickr site, and Twitter stream. In other words, the answer to my question about whether or not I could keep shooting if I lost my eyesight seems to be yes, yes, and a resounding yes.

A Bright Spot on a Gray Day

Species Ctenucha virginica — pretty and agreeable and more than content to take a tour of the yard and garden with me while J took photos of him with his new camera.

It's been almost unbearably gray and rainy all month, and between my lingering cough, packed weekends, freelance obligations, and projects around the house, I feel summer is whizing past before I can even grab my camera, hop on my bike, and try to catch up with it...

Thanks for the Memories

This is my dad, posing with a memory board he created after retiring from 50 years in the auto parts industry in 2004. Originally I was going to share the article that accompanies this photo on Father's Day, but ended up so busy that I forgot. I've copied and pasted it below. It was originally published in May of 2005 in a small newspaper local to my parents.

Thanks for the Memories

Memories mean a lot to 73-year-old Gerry Jolicoeur, who with his wife, Winnie, lives in a modest ranch home in this town’s village.

“There are three goals I’ve always wanted to reach in my life,” said Jolicoeur. “I wanted to attend my 50th anniversary of my graduation from Mt. St. Charles Academy. I did that in 2000. I wanted to observe my 50th wedding anniversary with Winnie and I did that in 2002. And I wanted to work for 50 years selling auto parts.” He reached that goal in January of 2004, when he retired as an auto parts salesman for Car Quest, a franchise that operates stores locally in North Smithfield, Woonsocket, and Blackstone. “Before leaving Car Quest, I had worked for only six other auto part companies my entire life,” Jolicoeur recalls. His eyes gleam as he describes the joy of celebrating both his high school reunion and his golden wedding anniversary. But it took him several months to decide on how to celebrate his work life that he truly loved. “I really loved my job. I would get up every morning and look forward to going to work. I really loved being with my customers.” After several months of retirement, Jolicoeur had yet to decide how he would celebrate his joy.

Finally, last July, the idea came to him in the middle of the night.“I had this old Polaroid camera. I looked at it and decided to visit as many of my former customers as possible and take pictures of them. Then I would put them into the form of a collage.” And so for the next four months, Jolicoeur set out on his mission. He would, nearly every day, make the same rounds he did as a salesman. But this time, he wasn’t selling anything. He was instead collecting memories. “I visited as many places as I could. And I wanted to get as many customers as possible, including the ones that might still be alive when I started,” said Jolicoeur. His visit to existing businesses was a simple task. But he had to work hard at trying to locate customers from his early days. “The oldest customer I could come up with was Fred Patenaude, who at 92 years old was living in a nursing home. He use to run Fred’s Garage on Front Street in Woonsocket and specialized in repairs to Buicks. When I walked into his room, he still remembered me and we talked for some time about our memories.”

Some 135 photographs of his former customers are now part of a photographic collection that Jolicoeur has attached to a tri-fold display board. Each picture has a brief explanation of its history. Jolicoeur has entitled the display “Thanks for the Memories,” and it serves to remind him of the joys of his livelihood. “It’s my way of recognizing my customers who allowed me to earn a good living selling auto parts,” says Jolicoeur. “And I really am grateful for the memories.”

****************************************************************************************************************
Having a blog is a lot like having an ongoing memory board, isn't it? We pin the pieces of our days we want to remember up in cyberspace.

The Lorax

Northampton, MA.

Father's Day

While going through paperwork in the basement, my mom found this old polaroid of my dad and I. He wasn't an actual sailor, but played lots of characters in the minstrel show my parent's church used to put on, always eager for a chance to make people laugh.

Happy Father's Day.

Happy Birthday, J

May all your dreams come true, 99 cents and otherwise.

And yes, you did take this photo, but it was in my camera and too appropriate not to share.

five senses friday

I missed a day of blogging. Can you believe it?

See:
• friends and neighbors, at our house and theirs
• fireflies flashing in the overgrown field
• a baby baltimore oriole, fallen from the nest, dead beside the flower beds
• my neighbor's cat, figgy, from a batch of barn-kittens we gave away what seems like a life time ago

Hear:
• sport bikes speeding, sudden police sirens. sport bikes accelerating, sirens in pursuit. sport bikes slowing down — pulling over? sport bikes accelerating again, headed down a side road. sirens in pursuit, headed straight. both fade away, in opposite directions
• tales from the deerfield river rapids
• this hiss of tires on the wet road

Taste:
• arugula "pesto"
• fresh local strawberries
• local apricot and almond yogurt from side hill farm
• quinoa, swiss chard, and toasted pine nuts - fantastic combined
• honey and lemon j's been making me at night. just starting to feel better, after 3 weeks

Touch:
• scooping up the silky petals of peonies from the mantle
• a new linen pillow
• a bumpy little toad i couldn't resist scooping up in the garden

Smell:
• fresh paint
• the pages of a new book - the reliable wife. i read it in two sittings. i think it cured my cold

Our Digital, Employable Selves

Yesterday morning on NPR.org I read that the paper resume is now considered, "laughably passe" in some circles, and hard to take seriously. Furthermore, "not having a profile on the social networking site LinkedIn is, for some employers, not only a major liability but a sign that the candidate is horribly out of touch." While I do have a LinkedIn Profile, I've often wondered what on earth for. Now I know — not that I'm job hunting. The article goes on to state that, "someone applying for a job in marketing, for example, will do much better in an interview if he or she already commands an audience through a blog."

"Commands an audience?" Huh. Thinking of it like that almost gives me stage fright.

Of course as a result of all this, keeping our online persona squeaky-clean and employable is growing increasingly important. Blogger Mark Nestmann points out, "Web-savvy employers and universities are increasingly employing a new tactic to screen applicants: conducting online research to unearth photos, blog entries, or other "digital dirt" you might prefer to keep private." In his June 15th post The Internet Never Forgets, he offers six tips for cleaning up your online image that are worth checking out.

I'm not sure where all of this is going, but I'm apparently along for the ride.

If Only They'd Share Their Secret

Poppies have a knack for looking intriguing, even when they're falling apart.

Transit Trendy

Oh boy, look at this wonderful silk dress! Printed with a vintage New York City subway map, and available here. I love the double multi-colored straps.

Chive Flower Vinegar

I was inspired by this post to make my own chive flower vinegar last weekend. You know, until Marie mentioned it on her blog, I didn't even know the flowers were edible. To think of all the blooms I could have been munching on...

Baltimore Orioles — Feeding Time

This year's Baltimore Oriole nest hangs high in a maple tree that towers between the house and garden. It has so many dead branches that years ago we briefly considered taking it down. Then we noticed how many birds it attracted and changed our minds. To the left in this pic is the male Oriole, making sure the coast is clear before approaching the nest full of babies.

Dipping in. At this point there's an eruption of chirping from the basket-shaped nest. Both the mother and father birds were on duty tonight, and I think this is the mother's paler tail, without any black.

Another serving gone, the father prepares to procure some more. There are countless trips back and forth, interspersed with chasing other birds away. Orioles seem to be extremely territorial.

Taking off.

Wabi Sabi Picture Frame

Since some of you have asked to see more samples of J's woodwork, this week I'm going to share a couple of the frames and mirrors he's made that hang in our house. The frame above, about 36" tall x 18" wide, is comprised of what looks like the side of an old bench or pew, married to a thick, hand-planed slab of chestnut with non-traditionally shaped joints hand-cut with a Japanese saw. The uneven edge along the bottom follows the shape of the tree bark, which is still attached.

The photo that's lived in this frame all these years is of my tattoo, and it was taken many years ago (back when it was still relatively new.) Since it takes a bit of effort (and a mirror) to see my own tattoo, I appreciate being able to check it out when I walk through the living room.

Soaking in the Sun

One of the fledgling Phoebes, resting on the tepee and soaking in the sun. There are baby birds everywhere this year — J and the dog even startled some along the path in the woods yesterday. I can only hope that some of the bird-friendly plantings we've been doing along the borders of the field are successfully adding to the habitat and bringing more species closer.

Wordnik = Benefic!

Galleycat calls it the "Swiss army knife of Dictionaries" and I had to check it out immediately. Wordnik is an ongoing project devoted to discovering all the words and everything about them. Type in your word and bring up it's definition, related words, pronunciation (you can even record your own) statistics (how rare is it?), usage examples in literature, Flickr photos tagged with the word, its Scrabble point count, and who's Tweeting the word now. There's even a "contribute" link if you'd like to share something about a word with the Wordnik team.

Remember Me Flowers

The peonies are having a difficult start to the blooming season this year, receiving a daily dousing of heavy rains just as they're opening their bowl-like flowers. This abuse at the hands of mother nature has given me a excuse to cut more stems than I normally would and line them up on the mantle. Their sweet scent in the room is intoxicating.

Peonies have always been one of my favorite flowers, but they make me a little melancholy this summer, reminding me of last June and the bouquet I took to my mom in the hospital. Little did any of us know that life was about to change dramatically, and it would be the last summer my parents would spend together in their house. Such are the subtle reminders of passing time — sometimes just a scent carried in from the garden. Are there any flowers whose scent reminds you a particular time, place, or person?

Wherein I Become a Landing Pad

Seeing how quickly the baby Phoebes are growing in their nest, J and I have been concerned about the potential for injury should they leap out and land on the hard floor of the woodshed. Yesterday, after checking in on them, we stood a few feet away discussing our game plan. I had just turned to go fetch a blanket for the floor when J shouted "They're out!" and then "Be careful! He's on you!"

Yes, despite our plans to intervene, mother nature spotted a golden opportunity and yours truly became an impromptu soft landing spot for one of the fledglings, who clung fluttering to my back. The other three sat on the ground, looking stunned by the bright sunlight, and eventually all four half fluttered, half hopped clumsily into the tall weeds, taking refuge in the center of a retired garden tepee that's covered in chicken wire while their parents chirped in the branches above.