I lost my copy of The Elements of Style last summer, and I finally picked up an updated version back in January. Surprisingly, it was an illustrated version by Maira Kalman. First of all, this edition greeted me with a “hello” on the back of the cover, so yeah, sold. Also, E.B. White’s classic examples/rules are now accompanied with pictures.
"Rule 20: Keep related words together" looks comme ça:
"He noticed a large stain right in the center of the rug."
I wasn’t thinking this in particular, but ok. (I pictured a party like this, but someone spilling wine on the carpet.)
I’m done done done with uni, but here you go anyways. I’m eating candy because I’m fasting for Greek Easter (no animal products + no oil = nothing, really). But, candy is fine? Some “cleanse.” I’ll be writing again once I have my brain back — I’m always thinking about food.
Samia and some other lovely ladies are having a vintageclothing/taxidermy/foodandbeer sale. (Samia is probably lugging around clothing from the West Island to the Mile End AS WE SPEAK.) I’ll be around, so come say hi! And come pick up some great stuff, or just gorge on cupcakes with me in a quiet corner!
"On the jukebox was the haunting voice of Frank Sinatra singing "…When I was seventeen, it was a very good year." Each successive stanza advanced the narrator by a decade, causing me to reflect on something I could not possibly reflect on: my future. The next song was the Beatles’ "Norwegian Wood," and its modal tones underscored the moody darkness. I felt an internal stillness, much like the moment of silence a performer seeks before he goes onstage. I know now why this memory has stuck with me so vividly. My ties to home were broken, I had a new group of friends, I was loose and independent, I had my first job where I slept in a hotel at night instead of my own bed. I was about to start my life." —Steve Martin, Born Standing Up
What do you do when you know what you want to do, but don’t yet know how to do it? You can read a biography or an autobiography. And I chose Steve Martin’s because I like the way he writes, and I like the way he reflects on things; not because I want to pursue stand-up comedy. And at this point, I’ll take any advice I can get.
When I was five, I think, my grandmother and I got lost. We were walking around a neighbourhood and we took a wrong turn. I was actually scared. I remember spotting a willow tree on the corner while my grandmother tried to figure out where we were. I still walk by it on my way home from the metro. Sometimes, if the wind hits the willow just right, I stop and remember how much my stomach hurt that day. We didn’t have a map or smartphones. No plan, no direction.
These aren’t willow trees, but Anouk's photos kind of remind me of that feeling I get in the pit of my stomach. (Or she's captured it.)