Friday, September 11, 2015

~This Moment~

~This Moment is a Friday tradition, capturing a special moment from the week~

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your moment in the comments, for all to see.

Some moments are the culmination of little moments spread over days, or longer. Recently, a series of events led to the moment when I was, once again, connected to my friend, even from afar.

{It may dismay publishers to read this, but I've practically stopped buying magazines. Some magazines keep printing the same stories, the same pictures; I've kept the back issues, and thanks to my weakening memory and being easily amused, I find that they are all but brand new when I re-read them. Sometimes a particularly alluring cover of a magazine tempts me, but then I am dismayed by the pages and pages of ads, only to find flimsy and insubstantial articles. And so on... too many ads, too much to invest for so little return. The sad part is, I do love the feel of a magazine, the large print, the glossy images, being swept up in an essay, inspired by a project, and the bliss of holding the words and images in my hands, while curled up in a comforting spot... it is a lovely escape.}
Wouldn't this be wonderful? That was the emotional sensation that swept over me when I saw this publication at the market. I was tempted to bring it home, to savor its temptations, to enjoy the pages, while imagining my own kitchen filling with good aromas and beautiful dishes.

I resisted. Pinterest, and countless cookbooks, plenty of back issues of like magazines... all of these are back home, already, I reasoned. But, I took a picture. Something made me want to be reminded of it.

And, a week later, in the same market, I found I could not resist. Bringing Sift home made me feel giddy. Made me feel a deeply contented sense of pleasure, anticipation, and gratitude. By the time the day was winding down, I set the publication down on the bed... then glanced over my shoulder, I saw another picture. I wanted to keep the moment... my nightgown, the quilt I made, the shawl, the soft light and the anticipation of rest, of peace. I wanted something to be reminded of all of this.

Whether I bake anything from this magazine, or ever visit the neighborhood cafes of New York City, I will have had this memory, a sensation, of traveling, of browsing, of learning little tips, and new methods, of sighing audibly, because interesting people do beautiful things, and their stories were there for me to enjoy, to skim, and reflect on. And I was deeply satisfied, drowsy, content. And I felt as though this was sweet and ideal, and a worthwhile thing... that the moment was complete, but. There was more in store for me. And the next day...

Three thousand miles away, my dear friend shared a post about something she, too, found worthwhile. And I replied...

And being of like mind with Jennifer, made the moment complete.

{Thank you, King Arthur Flour, for showcasing bakers, artisans, cooks, photographers, writers, entrepreneurs,
for letting real people showcase their talents, and good works.
You publish something beautiful, and worthwhile.}

1 comment:

Jennifer said...

Hurray on every possible level -- how wonderful and connected and awesome. Now we just need to decide what to make first and when to make it so we can share our reviews.... <3