It is a gray and rainy fall day, but for the moment at least I am enjoying looking out the window at the way the colors fade away in the gray light.
It would probably be a perfect day for a fire if I were in my house and could have a fire, but I am not, so glancing dreamy-eyed out the window will have to do. I have a book and a knitting project to finish, and those things should keep me adequately entertained.
It was also a good morning for a little experimentation in the kitchen. I had wanted to attempt the Sweet Potato and Squash Parathas from Sumayya Usmani's Summers Under the Tamarind Tree since buying the Pakistani cookbook last year. This morning seemed like the perfect time, and I hoped that this recipe would be something that would work as a gluten free option, not at all like traditional parathas or stuffed parathas. Usmani states in the book that these are more like a griddle scone than a traditional paratha, and I hoped the combination of flavors would make something that could be equally comforting even if not at all like its wheaten brethren. There is a copy of the recipe online here. Mine aren't as pretty, and can't be folded over. The gluten-free dough is more friable, and rolling out didn't work as well as patting, making something closer to a Pakistani-spiced scone than a true paratha, but they are good, and I am content.
As I knit, I have been listening to Vivaldi, reminded of how much I adored Vivaldi when I was a young girl by the fabulous chamber concert Wednesday night at the Knoxville Museum of Art, the first performance of this year's concertmaster series. In fact the entire program focused on music of the baroque period and it was both very well programmed to provide breadth and depth of interest and very well performed as well. I don't think I could have imagined a more enjoyable and rewarding evening of baroque music. It felt like a rare treat, although admittedly there were also two separate baroque choral performances in Knoxville during the same week, two performances I missed, although I had planned to attend the Choral Society's concert before I pooped out. It is indeed a treat to live in a place where there is more on offer than I could ever possibly attend.
And speaking of treats, Thursday proved to be another evening of musical indulgence. After doing a bit of Christmas shopping, already light-hearted and bouncy, I proceeded to a concert by the Seraph Brass for another evening of wonderfully programmed and beautifully performed music. I heard some works by new-to-me composers and some fabulous reworking of familiar pieces; music that was both lovely and thought-provoking in how it shed new light on music I might otherwise assume I knew. I also enjoyed the musicality and sensitivity of the playing, even subtlety at times, a word I do not always associate with the brass section, although perhaps I should.
Every year I seem to marvel that both concert season and autumn go hand in hand, my favorite season accompanied by some of my favorite things. I love the fall colors, the cool mornings and evenings, the music, the ability to add layers again, to indulge in softer colors. In fact, it seems that, having given away half of my already reduced wardrobe I am rediscovering old favorites, even while adding a few new things, like the sparkly gray and blue necklace above.
In fact I've made a couple of discoveries about myself, one of which is that I like a bit of sparkle more than I had thought. It is not the glitter I object to, but the brightness. I don't like bright sparkle -- too much jangly color or white put me on edge. Too much bright feels too forward, and therefore more formal and less like myself; even when I am most dressed, I don't like feeling formal if that makes any sense. Suddenly I know why certain things are never worn, and it not what I had thought. Through this new sense of understanding I am thinking I may finally be ready to start seriously sewing for myself again, sewing regularly that is, because I may finally be ready to ask a couple of critical questions. The two questions that have always been at odds in my creative life are: "Is this something I want to make just to make it?" and "Is this something I actually want to wear." Each has their place, but I haven't always been successful in sussing out the distinctions.
After all, I am the woman who once, when asked to introduce oneself to a group with a fact about oneself, chose "I love fog". I love rainy days and crisp cool mornings. Yes I love color too, but I love the way a gray day makes colors shine in a way completely differently from the bright sunshine. I love color the way I love music, the way the many layers of subtlety and technique and shading make a greater whole. I don't want to be hit in the face with the obvious, I want to find the subtleties. It is true. I love fog.
