February musings

dreams and spring-longing

February fourth, Tuesday. I just finished January´s musings and scheduled the post. Four days late, but the months have blurred into each other. Yesterday I did a little show and tell in a kindergarten with some of my “Sámi things” — my goatskin hat, a little reindeer pouch, a doll, two books, a patch of reindeer leather to smell and touch. I think they had a good time, some for longer than others. Looking for a job is getting slightly discouraging, but I will have a meeting with my counsellor today, hopefully finding some motivation there. All I seem to want to do these days is play Stardew Valley, watch Ugly Betty, and, if I am lucky, read. I think I will do good with a few days of rest. I am trying to teach myself not to pick at the skin around my fingers again. I was doing quite well for a while this autumn, and then mum died, and now I am back to making little wounds along my nails without noticing anything is happening until it hurts. I try to moisturise them as often as I can, but they are very dry during these colder months, fraying at the edges, splitting at the seams.

February sixth, Thursday.

February tenth, Monday. feeling eternally tired, wishing for a warm spring, to lounge in the sun, the smell of warmth and salt and sunscreen. mother haunts my dreams. i want to bathe in rivers. i want to write. i want to sleep on mother’s grave.

February twenty first, Friday. She is still in my dreams. Most of them. We always know that she is dead, but she does not know. We do not tell her because it will scare her away. I was painting her hair last night and it kept falling off and my father came to me afterwards and told me that now I see how poorly she is doing. I think I dreamt of her hair falling off because before she died her hair texture had changed. It was thick and soft. I touched it when we went to see her. It was thick and soft. Ours had always been thin. The night before I dreamt that we were gathered in our childhood living room. My sister was there which puzzled me because she is at vacation with her boyfriend. I asked her why she was here and she said she had come home for one day to see mum. Because mum was there for that one day and she would travel back tomorrow.

This month I read less than last month, but started a handful of books.

Butter by Asako Yuzuki was the favourite. It was recommended to me by A, and it made me eat several portions of rice with good, crumbly, slightly expensive butter. I still crave it. We’re having some for dinner next week. If you want something that discusses Japanese culture, feminism, obsession, friendship, and food, this one will be pretty much right up your alley:

When she was in the bath and her eyes fell on her naked thighs and her stomach, glistening and gleaming as if lit from the inside, speckled with beads of water, she found herself staring at her own body as if she were looking at a slab of Échiré butter. Maybe, if she weren’t receiving so much criticism from the people around her, she would be fine with the way she looked.

Milk was originally blood. In that case, was the butter in the Babaji story actually a metaphor for all the carnage that took place under the cover of the jungle? What seemed pure, white and creamy had its origins in vivid, bloody red — was that not the essence of this whole case?

I also read Whalefall by Daniel Kraus. Its writing style was very different, but I enjoyed it a lot. Again recommended by A — these days I am more or less using her as my own personal tbr list. Despite being a survival horror book about a young man trying to find his father´s remains, it had a good focus on processing grief and regret. I truly enjoyed it, but I am thankful that I do not get as claustrophobic when I think about being underwater anymore. Most of the book is set in the dark:

Lasts night Jay dreamed of his father´s bones, buttery in a nest of purple kelp, bejewelled with Red Sea slugs like holiday lights. The bones were soft in his hands, a gentle touch he never got from Mitt and therefore never gave back. He slid them against his cheek. He kissed them. He woke up tasting marrow.

On my way to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousins

• hot chocolate and stationary on mari´s birthday
• yoghurt with jam and oats and a broken digestive cookie
• rewatching supernatural
• reorganising our living room/kitchen
• hot chocolate with lots of cream
• rice with soy sauce and good butter
• muskoxen
• navy blues
• paul poiret
• embroidered pearl decorations ala the 1920s
• silky tassels
• orange!!
• new couch finally she is so good
• dolly parton
• apples
• blue velvet 35mm at the cinema with good friends
• lynchian week
• restarted my animal crossing island and am trying to play it the way god intended (slowly and day by day)
• the way our rearrangement of our very tiny living room space made it look mid-century-esque
• feeding birds (magpies, crows, and seagulls) in the graveyard with r and m (and meeting a wee cosy cat!!)
• sewing
• flipping through old vogue magazines online
• tulips
• iced matcha latte ala rebecca
• spending time with friends and with family

Breakfast reading at my aunt and uncle´s place

May your March and coming spring be good to you. Drink your water, take your medicine and your vitamins, remember to eat. Breathe. Stretch if you can. Find moments to rest in the sun.

Love, T.