The Sweeping Romance of Percy Bysshe Shelley and Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin

He wrote some of the finest romantic poems in the English language, including visionary epics and commentary on the ways of nature, sex, and God. He was considered a threat to authority, often boycotted and suppressed from publication. He hung out with fellow badasses John Keats and Lord Byron.

She wrote essays on subjects beyond her time: equal rights for women, cooperation and sympathy leading to civility, scientific ethics, and the origins of life. She posed a direct challenge to Percy Shelley's views on the way society should be ran, and wrote one of the greatest pieces of horror fiction ever penned, Frankenstein.

They're my favorite Hollywood couple.

Simple, Ancient Wisdom

In high school my brilliant history teacher decided to spend a significant chunk of our unit on Eastern history on Eastern religions, particularly on Taoism. I immediately bought a copy of the Tao Te Ching and The Art of War, obsessed with reading every last gem of advice that the other side of the world had to offer.

 Somehow I missed the idea that you can't absorb wisdom through a page.
I never carried a copy of any scriptures around with me to calm myself with. The week of Miss Utah, I prepared myself with reading the Tao Te Ching. When Finley was on her way, I threw my battered copy of The Art of War in my bag along with my Tao Te Ching, determined to fight my way through labor like a wise warrior.

 "At the center of your being, you have the answer. You know who you are and what you want."

"When spring comes, the grass grows by itself."

"He who does not trust enough will not be trusted."

"One cannot reflect in streaming water. Only those who know internal peace can give it to others."

"To lead people walk behind them."

In the next life, I hope to experience an upbringing in the culture on the other side of the world. I think I would value a whole host of other things--silence, for one thing. Three words instead of six. Nature.

One of my favorite stories is about a group of students who met for their first Zazen session with their teacher. He looked at them, all of them with various hairstyles, bright colored clothing, accessories, and sitting positions. He had them all shave their heads, don the traditional simple robe, and sit plainly in the cross-legged Lotus position. "Ah," he said. "Now I can tell you apart. Now I can see you all individually."

Bookstores

 Someday, a new ambition so overwhelming will hit me and I will feel smothered. I'll cut myself off from hobbies and pastimes--forget writing, forget painting, forget making music, even--all of them except for reading, because books are where all other purposes for me stem from.

 I'll take a little bit of money and open a book store, a modest one with warm colored lighting, handmade mugs for coffee and hot chocolate, velvet chaise lounges, and local original art covering my walls.

 I have lists and lists of things I want to do--things for today, this week, this year, things for every area of interest. I am a schemer. But when I settle down at night, curl around my daughter and let my mind wind down, I crave simplicity.

So someday I'll put my energy into this, placing loved books into new hands so that new eyes can read the words and make new thoughts. It could possibly be my life's great work, the end-all of my ambitions: a used bookstore.

I judge cities based on their bookstores. I judge people by their bookshelves.

Pictures of Marilyn Monroe

Note I said pictures of Marilyn Monroe, not Marilyn herself. I have no problems with the woman, I just do not find the story of her life very inspiring--her death was so beautiful and ironic it is a tragedy, but the rest of her life just seemed very pathetic, not necessarily at her fault.

But the pictures of her--they are gorgeous. I enjoy a stunning woman as much as the next person, in a purely aesthetically appreciative manner, of course. Marilyn is on another level.

She oozes sensuality, glamor, old Hollywood magic.

Looking at photos of her makes me wish I could be sucked back into that time, just to stand on the corner with a cheering crowd during a movie premiere. It was a time when less was more, when subtlety was celebrated and the word "tantalizing" was put into practice.

The thing about Marilyn is I don't react in my usual instinctual catty woman-hating way. I don't see this untouchable being with unmatchable features who I know I should be jealous of and threatened by.

I see pictures of her and I am so happy to be a woman. I think of my imperfections, but then I shrug them away. I remember the reasons why I should feel beautiful.

In another life, in another reality, I'd like to talk with her and give her a much-needed hug. Then I'd thank her for creating a standard of beauty that I could actually measure myself against without feeling ugly.

Food, Glorious Food!

A project I began last year is a collection of pieces (poems, prose, blurbs) about food. I find it's a very relaxing and simple topic to write about, and the best part is seeking out new inspiration (i.e., eating).
My online commonplace book wouldn't be complete without mention of my favorite part of being human, delicious cuisine, both the cooking and consumption of it.
Tortilla chips, a heap of guacamole, and fresh spicy salsa...

Perfectly grilled zucchini, drizzled in olive oil and a touch of sage...

A steaming bowl of mashed potatoes, melted cheese and seasoning...

Or perhaps a baked potato, stuffed with chives, broccoli, cheese, sour cream...

A festive plate of black beans and cilantro-infused rice...

Tangy citrus shrimp over stir-fried vegetables and egg noodles...

Crispy, salty sweet potato fries cooked in coconut oil...

Thick, rich New England-style clam chowder with soft potatoes and fresh parsley...

Or maybe a hearty bowl of comforting chicken noodle soup...

A blended, light butternut squash soup seasoned with brown sugar...

Flavorful pesto sauce mixed into perfectly cooked linguini pasta, twirled around a fork...

Colorful bite-sized sushi, dipped into spicy wasabi soy sauce...

 And don't forget the glories of dessert: pumpkin bread, soft chocolate chip cookies, and mocha brownies...

Now tell me that doesn't make you want to sit down, unfold your napkin, and write an ode on the seams, praising the array of food and your personal palette.

The Tree of Life

Egyptian mythology: an acacia tree from which Isis and Osiris, the first couple, sprang forth--"the tree in which life and death are enclosed"

Chinese mythology: a tree which produces one peach every three thousand years--the eater of the peach receives immortality

Norse mythology: Yggdrasil, the ash tree known as a world tree, with three roots that go into the well Uroarbrunnr in the heavens, the spring Hvergelmir, and the well Mimisbrunnr

Jewish and Christian mythology: Etz Chaim, the tree of life, found in the Garden of Eden and protected by two cherubs with flaming swords

Indian mythology: the fig tree (banyan/peepal), symbolizing fertility, because it nourished mankind with its milk before grain

Mesoamerican mythology: the ceiba tree, embodying the four directions, a symbolic axis connecting the Underworld and the sky

The idea of a single tree of life still existing somewhere on this planet makes me want to visit every last branch of every tree, examining it for that otherworldly sparkle. Anyone who doesn't believe there could potentially be a tree still, its roots sharing the same dirt that it grew in millions of years ago... Well, if you can't entertain the thought, you're not worth knowing.

The Mysterious South

Maybe it's because I'm from Utah, otherwise known as the one spot in the United States that can't really be categorized as West Coast, Southwest, Midwest, Mideast, East Coast, South, or Annexer (like Alaska or Hawaii). But there's absolutely something puzzling about the South--is it in the water?

Not only does the South have the Appalachian trail...

Amazing bayous...

Gorgeous plantations with the heart of painful history growing in their tobacco fields...

Dangerous swamps filled with terrifying creatures that crawl, slither, and snap...

Stunning churches with corrupt preachers presiding congregations who pitch in and buy him a Cadillac...

Riverboat tours...

Winding dirt roads that lead nowhere,

But the South also has produced some of the greatest creative minds ever to walk American soil, like William Faulkner

and Scott Joplin, king of ragtime.

The southern US makes me realize my area, Utah, which is stunning and full of good people, really has no culture to speak of. Sure, we have a few defining characteristics but very few brilliant exports. I've never been to the South. I have friends who have, including one dear friend who spent eight months going to school in Louisiana. I am jealous. In another life, I'll be born a sweet, charming Southern girl, a spitfire who knows the names of all the plants in the bayou, who cooks black-eyed peas and eats grit cakes, someone who pens a novel while drunk on bourbon and wins the Pulitzer.
Movies like Forrest Gump

 and Fried Green Tomatoes?

They seem to make this envy worse. I'm ashamed to say it, but even when I watched Black Snake Moan

I swooned.
Someday I'll take a drive through the South, follow the Mississippi and see a live alligator. Don't worry though--I'll bring a sober tour guide and a shotgun.