The work of Collete Calascione

Goodwill to men

On Saturday I was out book shopping at the Goodwill near my parents' house. I was quietly and intently searching the titles for something interesting. Just as I was turning to take the three books I'd found to the check out, a voice began speaking to me.

The wee voice said, "If you see a copy of The Shack, could you pass it to me?"

The voice had short, curling gray and white hair, a strangely formed, pinched-up sort of nose, skin all be-speckled like a tan egg, and blinking eyes behind gold-rimmed spectacles. She was a short, rounded lady of around 75.

"Yes I will," I said, smiling.

"I read it a year ago and then today, can you believe it, there was an interview about the author in the Guideposts!?"

"Really? Interesting. I haven't read it yet."

Then she got really excited. "The photographer in the interview had decided to give some money to someone in need about 5 or 6 years ago, and he came upon the story of a man who needed some money, so he snuck up to his little house and slipped a couple hundred dollars under his front door."

"Then what?" I asked, knowing that this conversation was bound to be a long one, but not minding talking with this lady. That morning I had awakened to an empty day and had resolved to roll with the flow of what came my way, and see it as a sort of divine adventure. This was surely a part of my divine adventure.

"Well, all these years later he goes to take the photos for this interview of the author of The Shack and he arrives at the site and it is the same house where he put the money under the door. He couldn't stand it any longer, so he asked the author if he lived there 5 or 6 years ago. He said he had. The photographer asked him if he got an envelope filled with money one Christmas. The author said he had, again, and asked if the photographer had put it there. And of course he had. The author told him that the money had enabled him to get a few copies of The Shack printed for close friends and family as a Christmas gift, and that one of those copies had found its way to a publisher, and the rest was history."

"That's crazy! What an amazing meeting! And after all that time!? I love stories like that."

"And have you read Nora Roberts' books?"

"No." I replied, thinking of the stack in my hands: Faulkner, a book about the Mason Dixon line, and a book about rivalry between two magicians in 18th century England.

"Well, you should read this one," she said as she held up a book with roses and flames on the front, "it is about finding a husband. My daughter-in-law has it too. She loved it."

"Wonderful" I thought sarcastically, "sounds horrible."
"Sounds neat!" I heard myself reply instead, beginning to doubt the divinity of this adventure.

"And this book, The Bride's Necklace, is about true love and whoever wears the necklace finds their true love."

"That sounds cool too." But not cool, and certainly not divine, not adventurous.

"Oh, I'm also looking for a book called The Blue Dahlia," she said.

"I'll keep an eye out for that one too." At least that one sounded better.

"Thanks so much. What kind of books do you like?" she asked.

"Well, that's hard to say, I like lots of sorts of books. I have a William Faulkner book here, The Sound and the Fury. He's really great. I like American short stories. I read a lot of classics. I love poetry too. And history, these other two books I have are about history. I was an English major in college, so I read a lot. Well, English and Art. I read a lot of art history/theory too. And Ayn Rand. I love Ayn Rand, and A.S.Byatt."

She didn't really say much of anything back, but instead stared smiling, blinking, back at me. I repeated my offer of looking for The Shack for her, and she thanked me again.

I looked for a few more minutes, and then I started to leave. I realized I'd missed a shelf, so I walked over to it to see what was there. The first title I read: The Shack.

I was so excited! I walked over to her and said, "It's your lucky day! Look what I found. I can't believe it!"

She squealed, made all sorts of happy sounds, hugged me very tightly about my waist, and said, "I knew you'd find it! I knew it! Thank you!"

"Well, you're welcome," I said, stepping back, "you have a good rest of the day."

"You too sweetheart."

Adventure. I wondered at her 'knowing' I would find the book for her, and at my willingness to discount the meeting as non-adventure-material when I heard the names of the books she liked. I used to think the line between the divine and the mundane was a blurry one, but I think I've come to the conclusion that there is no such line. Everything is divine, everyday.

Gotta love someecards.

Thanksgiving Eve

Last night, at midnight at Waffle House, we decided that today, on Thanksgiving Eve, we would gather at our parents' house and watch these two films:

The Fountain



And The Tree of Life



I love living.
I love films about life, death and trees.


11.29.2011 Update: We never got around to The Fountain, we took too long eating for two movies.

And now I finally get to force Gabe to watch it.

The Giant Autumn Moon

This is what I was chasing on the way home from work last week. Look at it! It is just there along the hill/horizon.



This one is blurry, but you can get a good idea of the size.

I feel like I make this face a lot. Sort of confused and amused. Conmused.

Recently discovered the work of Graham Franciose. Go love it.

My veterans

My great-grandfather, Jim Wygle, US Navy.



He got to travel the world. He had serious photography skills, and we are lucky enough to have most of the photos he took. I'm hoping to organize a show of his photos from WWII, they are really something. Here's one:



My grandfather, Larry Starner, US Navy (along with his three older brothers). He's holding my dad in this picture.

Some new doodles over on the art site:

http://www.meiskastarner.com/

Spent way too long this morning attempting to get Radiohead tickets for Atlanta in the fansite's pre-sale. What a disaster. No one knew what time it was starting, how many tickets there were, or why little spurts of tickets were being released. It was frustrating. Oh well, still hoping to get a pair on Saturday when they go on sale to the public.

Stolen from Carson Ellis' blog.

Liiiiiiife.

Slow down, a little.
Teach me things that I probably should have figured out by now.

November

I get to go back to work on Monday, which is a very good thing! November is showing some serious promise so far.

* Trees are at their most lovely

* Saw Butterfly Boucher and Katie Herzig on Friday with the Gnome and Caity-Caity, stood next to people like Matthew Perryman Jones, Matt Odmark and Derek Webb, gotta love Nashville

* I started helping my mom set up all her Christmas decorations at her house, thankful that she is feeling pretty good right now

* A year ago today I saw Sufjan Stevens in Atlanta

* I got to sleep in an hour later today and experience an altered reality where I question what time really is

* I've acquired so much good music this month already

* Had a family movie night last night at my parents' house with Luke, Chelsey, Gabe, Tanya, Anca and le Mére and le Pére

* Going right now to enjoy delicious food with one of my best friends, Brittany, and her Fiancé



Mmm, mmm, good.

October

I spent the last half of October in the hospital, and then at home in bed, with a really rare, really bizarre virus that causes one to feel as if they are experiencing late stage rheumatoid arthritis (which was pretty freaky considering I'm only 25 and very healthy). Painful is an understatement. At first I couldn't use my ankles and wrists much, and then it started to affect my elbows and knees. Thankfully most of the pain is gone now. (UPDATE 3.5.12: my follow up appointments have revealed that the doctors think that I probably actually had rheumatic fever. Leave it to me to get a 19th century sickness.)

I can't wait to be back at work and normal life, and I'm much better than when it started, but now I have a cold on top of everything. I must need downtime. Or something.

I rode with my parents up into the wilds of Kentucky one day to visit my mother's aunt. Here are some blurry pictures I took in a medicated state from the back of a van:






I've missed Kentucky. The only glimpses I get of it are when my brother and I drive our friend up to Indiana University.