Archive for June, 2013
We met an engineer diver at a soda shop bar, Matty J, he called himself.
Big smiles and a swishy leather jacket, something about him was off. Matty J was big laughs from Phoenix, Arizona. Something like worn wood and spilled beer, a sweaty bar you should only feel in the brisk winter air; imagine feeling that on a sweltering day. And that smell -of something odd and right, in an odd and right place- I associate with Oxford, the town of my birth. Close to the house in Oxford there was a Pub-Inn that smelled like wood and beer, soccer matches, overlapping teeth, there grew an enormous chestnut tree. Chestnuts fell like spiked dinosaur eggs, neon. Chestnuts, my dad said. But they just can’t be! Chestnuts are brown and soft, Don’t people roast them on the fire? These are bright and they bounce when I throw them on the ground, these don’t seem like chestnuts. The tree grew shading a pen with goats groaning on top of a shed, with slit devil eyes (like robots, with manes); I’d feed them and the rabbits grass. The smell of the Pub came in wafts of breeze and inside men cheered, women breastfed, and kids sipped Pimm’s. Matty J smelled like all of that, but he was sitting in a Prospect Heights soda bar next to me, drinking an IPA. His accent was far from an Oxfordshire suckle, but he did have the smile of an unembarrassed British punk.(evelyn cameron)
i feel like i’m sort of betraying my 7 year old self, and this is probably the most intimate thing i’ve ever published, and the most meaningful page i’ve ever written. june 1, 1998:went to storm king on sunday and it was an amazing, amazing day. after a breakfast out in NYC (a date cranberry scone and two coffees). we started on a beautiful drive through the mountainside, hugging the Hudson river. we peed on the roadside. we had a picnic with brie and apricots, fresh bread, strawberries, roasted red peppers and prosciutto, olives and pistachios, we witnessed first hand the most intense cicada plague imaginable: waves of them present both by sound and sight. we explored the most beautiful valleys and meadows and mountainside with green you’ve never seen, we ate ice cream on a “Main St,” it was maple walnut. and drank beers and ate burgers at a roadside stop…
in other news, i explored Staten Island, a literal garbage dump, suburbia confused and contained…slightly wretched, but with beautiful botanical nooks.
repetitive and soothing; i want to go to north carolina, south carolina! americana fetishization.