cosign and spirograph

Current White House chief of staff and former budget wonk Jack Lew is the new pick for Cabinet posting of Secretary of the Treasury. Though a seasoned veteran of Washington, Lew’s appointment’s is garnering the most attention over his loopy, hoovesie signature that will eventually appear on legal tender.

My simple signature—honed and hewn down to next to nothing due to having to sign a lot of paperwork, sometimes causes people to balk and occasionally I am prompted for something a little more legible or identifiable—especially by the postal authorities. I am sure Mr. Lew’s John Hancock would not pass muster either, and it looks like an awkward scrawl of acknowledgement on one of those electronic signature pads at the checkout—the kind that you can draw anything on and the screen brightly informs you that signature is accepted and verified. I wonder where in the aether those x’s are sorted and if they’re ever brought back up.

new soul and lucky 13

My little sister and her partner are about to have a baby.

This is fantastic and makes us uncles. Babies are such a wonderful way to start out as people. I can’t get my mind around the whole circumstances, whereas my sister seems pretty cool and collected. I wish I could be there in person for all the firsts but I’m sure they’ll all be shared. It’s a challenge to put oneself in the perspective of someone growing up in this age, never having not known so many things but I suppose all generations go through that and the essence of technology and capability is far less radical or different than changes experienced by ages past. The demarcation between public and private is no more and no less respected either, only freedoms and intrusion are wired differently.

In fact, there is nostalgia for those ages especially just out of reach for the authentically vintage and retro-inspirations that nearly revival the engrossment and cultivations of the Victorian Era.  What is new however is how cultural packets are narrowly and nicheingly disseminated—the sharing and promotion that is the new norm. History did not begin with the digital age of easy-access, and certainly memories and scattered artefacts can be retrieved in an even more living fashion, but the expectations and obligations that go along with this do mark a dividing time. It will be very exciting going forward for our little niece, and moments relived, with or without the aid of total-recall, are cherished things.

freegan or waste not, want not

The German English daily, the local, has a nice feature story on two creative and thrifty women in Berlin, lamenting the awful statistics about how much food goes to waste and hoping to bring some tired and true ideas about community back en vogue through a good example and a bit of activism (which is a strange idea, as one of the founder remarks, how common sense and civility need formal and organizational cues). They hold quite posh tea-parties and dinners, seated around a grand table, with a fancy fare scavenged from leftovers from farmers’ market stalls and other food that would be otherwise destined for the rubbish bin. Guests pay per plate a donation that goes to support international food programmes. I’m sure there’s nothing grungy or unwashed about the whole gala, which the founders hope to expand to more cities, nor overly stagey neither—though I think the juxtaposition of entertaining in a junkyard would add to the statement and message, forcing one to peer past the packaging and shuttling away and other illusions that make our impact easier to stomach.

astralbärin

Another new addition to the household is this fantastic French Jugendstil (Art Nouveau) candelabra. Right away, I named her the Cosmic Candle Lady for the halo of tapers her embracing arms support. H’s father admired the piece and sweetly asked if she were a bear—I guess for the three combs in her hair, which kind of do look like ears.

H was a little embarrassed, since he had previously pronounced our Christmas Angel a witch and mistook our spoon-rest for an ashtray. I thought that characterization, however, even better, so now it’s Great Astral She-Bear. The constellation of candles, locked in orbit, also reminded me of the unexpected revelation about the unexpectedly regular paths that dwarf galaxies waltz around the Galaxy Andromeda, discovered at the insistence of a young and promising French astronomer (DE/EN). There might be more of an aesthetic balance to nature than is readily admissible, after all, and maybe something also that a fresh pair of eyes needs to see.