a letter

saysdances @ 2009-06-11T11:27:00

2009-06-11T15:35:41Z

http://marinahale.wordpress.com

Following the trend, and moving away from livejournal, I guess. I'll keep reading here, though, of course.

Some other places you can find me:

Goodreads
Facebook

I do hope you'll keep in touch.

saysdances @ 2009-04-10T14:28:00

2009-04-10T18:30:25Z

guysssssssss !!!! i am going to library school !!!

saysdances @ 2009-03-10T14:40:00

2009-03-10T18:41:50Z

finishing up a scarf for Joshua. 3 March 2009.

saysdances @ 2009-02-02T13:59:00

2009-02-02T18:59:21Z

All my life I have loved travelling at night, with a companion, each of us discussing and sharing the known and familiar behavior of the other. It's like a villanelle, this inclination of going back to events in our past, the way the villanelle's form refuses to move forward in linear development, circling instead at those familiar moments of emotion. Only the rereading counts, Nabokov said. So the strange form of that belfry, turning onto itself again and again, felt familiar to me. For we live with those retrievals from childhood, that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are songlike in their refrains and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell.

Michael Ondaatje

saysdances @ 2009-01-30T01:39:00

2009-01-30T06:41:33Z

My husband writes me a love letter in Hebrew and gives me a key to help me decipher it. A love puzzle.

W.S. Merwin, A Birthday

2009-01-20T05:56:49Z


Something continues and     I don't know what to call it
though the language is full of suggestions
in the way of language
                but they are all anonymous
and it's almost your birthday     music next to my bones

these nights we hear the horses     running in the rain
it stops and the moon comes out     and we are still here
the leaks in the roof go on dripping     after the rain has passed
smell of ginger flowers     slips through the dark house
down near the sea     the slow heart of the beacon flashes

the long way to you is still tied to me     but it brought me to you
I keep wanting to give you     what is already yours
it is the morning     of the mornings together
breath of summer     oh my found one
the sleep in the same current     and each waking to you
when I open my eyes     you are what I wanted to see.

saysdances @ 2008-12-22T21:11:00

2008-12-23T02:12:11Z

I admit it, I've recently come to really like American football.

saysdances @ 2008-12-19T15:05:00

2008-12-19T20:08:21Z

Diecembre, from Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry by les Freres Limbourg

saysdances @ 2008-12-11T14:21:00

2008-12-11T19:21:35Z

Today is the anniversary of the first time I heard my husband's voice. I have grown this year in ways that I could not have expected, and for which I do not entirely have the language. Every day I choose to love and to give of myself, more and more, and it is in the choosing, I think, in the decision to love--to share myself, the minutia of my past, the yearnings for the future--in this opening, in this gifting, that my life is becoming not less mine, but more. It is in our consciousness, in the fullness of our vulnerability, in the generosity of our shared life, that we grow more and more into ourSelves, forgiven and humbled by the light of loving.

saysdances @ 2008-12-10T22:27:00

2008-12-11T03:27:57Z

Spicy Hermits, canned for Joshua's grandparents, December 2008

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flipflopping Florida winter weather, the dry windy cool makes me think rain and then the humid heat bears down, sweet and burdensome, casual and usual as yearning
missing Santa Fe winter
cookies, with the windows cranked open, warm nutmeg and cinnamon, warm walnut skins on the tongue
Friday's small black puppy paws on my legs, small black puppy eyes begging for raisins
curling up to netflix movies stored over the week for the occasion of my days off
focaccia with pesto and hummus for dinner
the nourishment of kisses

saysdances @ 2008-11-09T23:58:00

2008-11-10T04:59:22Z

i love my husband.

saysdances @ 2008-10-21T13:14:00

2008-10-21T17:14:21Z

New Hampshire. August 2008.

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Heading to California tomorrow!

saysdances @ 2008-10-16T14:25:00

2008-10-16T18:33:23Z

the tide coming in. New Hampshire. August 2008.

saysdances @ 2008-10-12T12:31:00

2008-10-12T16:32:33Z

California from the 22 October through the 29 October.

saysdances @ 2008-10-02T00:33:00

2008-10-02T04:37:23Z

For my birthday dinner Joshua and I made butternut squash-sage-pecan raviolis with garlic white bean sauce and braised collard greens. There was homemade coconut cake for dessert. There were many kitchen-related gifts. There was chardonnay.

Sweetness abounds, here.

Sending my love.

saysdances @ 2008-08-27T21:29:00

2008-08-28T01:31:59Z

a bowl of cicadas collected on my last day of gardening, Boston, August 2008

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spent the entire day at the science museum
leaving tomorrow

saysdances @ 2008-08-24T21:58:00

2008-08-25T02:05:11Z

the tan line of my gardening gloves
free yellow watermelon from Alice at the farmer's market
mosquito bites on my ankles
the mist coming off the lake at 5 am
the concentric circles of a fish's mouth at the surface of the water
molecules
the scent of our bodies spooning

saysdances @ 2008-08-21T20:11:00

2008-08-22T00:13:22Z

molting cicada
last day of work
figuring out how to say goodbye

saysdances @ 2008-08-20T19:13:00

2008-08-20T23:16:07Z

416 pots of vinca
sunburned knees
false fall
how we pray

saysdances @ 2008-08-17T09:49:00

2008-08-17T13:53:17Z

reading on the back porch
trying to identify the trees across the fence
the squirrel highway of electrical lines
seeing the backs of leaves
IPAs
Joshua napping in my lap, my husband
the smile a good simile gives me
Angels in America
letting myself trust

saysdances @ 2008-08-16T18:22:00

2008-08-16T22:27:16Z

new england thunderstorms
working in the wet
scufflehoeing
turning soil
bumble bee stings
gevurrah
new music, old music
vegan soft serve
bike rack
love, love, love, love, love

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packng, realizing how much I came to think of this place as home.

saysdances @ 2008-07-29T14:31:00

2008-07-29T18:33:13Z

Northwood, New Hampshire

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I can't tell you, though, how I felt, walking along beside him that night, along that rutted road, through that empty world--what a sweet strength I felt, in him, and in myself, and all around us. I am glad I didn't understand, because I have rarely felt joy like that, and assurance. It was like one of those dreams where you're filled with some extravagant feeling you might never have in life, it doesn't matter what it is, even guilt or dread, and you learn from it what an amazing instrument you are, so to speak, what a power you have to experience beyond anything you might ever actually need. Who would have thought that the moon could dazzle and flame like that?

Marilynne Robinson, Gilead

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We've been swimming in this lake on the weekends. I cannot remember the last time I swam, really, and I'd forgotten how free it makes me feel, how graceful I can be when I am not on land, and how strong. The water buoys me, and on days we spend here it feels as though my spirit is flooding out of my mouth like laughter, though with a stranger, more resonant current than laughter. Though it is a short walk from the main road, the lake is quiet, much quieter than I expected, and the first day we came the rain reached the water before we did, with the low groan of thunder in the background, so we nestled into a pine bed, Joshua's arms encircling me from behind, as we watched the lake be replenished. Even now I can feel the peace of that moment welling up in me, leaving a twin of itself in me, a glacial mark.

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Friday is my last day at the Internet Archive. For the three weeks following, I will be working in gardens, pulling weeds, mostly, and I hope that it will be a nice change from sitting in a dark room taking pictures of books for seven hours a day. Joshua's and my schedules have been in opposition since we moved here, and I am looking forward to the extra time we'll have together. At the end of the three weeks, we'll be spending most of our time packing, though I am hoping for a small camping trip, as well. At the beginning of September we'll be going on a road trip to Santa Fe to collect my things from storage, then heading back to Florida, taking some time to settle down before we start school. We'll be making stops in York, Pennsylvania; Bear Run, Pennsylvania; Cincinnati, Ohio; Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona; Tucson, Arizona; Santa Fe, New Mexico; New Orleans, Louisiana, etc. Though there are a lot of preparations to be made and a lot of things to be nervous about, I am mostly excited for the trip.

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"That we persist. This is the basis of life. That we continue, with peril and toil and sorrow as our companions. Coming through the fire. Bearing witness. The story is resilience without compromise."

saysdances @ 2008-06-07T16:38:00

2008-06-07T20:39:55Z

New name means new email address: marina.hale@gmail.com

saysdances @ 2008-06-02T13:32:00

2008-06-02T17:33:26Z

I am an extraordinarily lucky woman.

saysdances @ 2008-05-28T11:55:00

2008-05-28T16:04:06Z

Watching whales swim is my new favorite tourist activity. New England got really warm this weekend so I did a lot of walking around and drinking frozen bubble tea, moved into the new place a little farther from town, hung out with my mom a bunch, pigged out at a couple of new restaurants and met Noa. On Monday night, for our first meal in the new house, we made enchiladas, fried plantains and Spanish rice. My mom, Joshua, our new roommate, Ryan, and I sat out on the porch listening to the triangulation of parties in the neighborhood while we ate. It was very sweet. Yesterday my mom took me dress shopping. Eventful weekends make me more tired than work weeks.