Mountains of Moleskines

With the demise of many Borders outlets, printed magazines and newspapers, there seem to be a lot of books being written about the topic. Sort of like a Dodo bird support and discussion group on extinction.

I've been reading one of them, Hamlet's Blackberry by William Powers. Like others he makes a case for taking time for being unplugged or at least having a balance. The fact that he has a website for the book shows he's not for complete removal of the wired life.

Midway through he makes a case for the Moleskine. I have my fair share of Moleskines as well as other variants. I am also an obsessive journal keeper. I have a basic daily journal that I do on my laptop but also yoga journals, gardening journals, travel journals, house journals, health journals, dog health journals...I tend to call my Moleskines "flash journals" in which I paste photos, make collages, line art, fleeting thoughts. I'm also fond of my Flip Notes which come with a built in pen and are about a third the width of an iPhone.

The German film maker Heinz Emigholz even did a series of films called The Basis of Make-Up which are nothing but clips from his Moleskines or whatever brand he uses. Double spread pages flash on the screen for a fraction of a second interspersed with flash clips of unedited field video.
So I was thrilled to discover the page Moleskines: One Page at a Time and The Sketchbook Project 2011 at the Brooklyn Art Library which features 10,000 of them. Indeed, there is talent out there!

Into the Void of Frank and Fox

Fine and dandy, nearly every last bit of it. Ignoring the obvious is not always a sign of ignorance but self-preservation. Ignore the critics and charge ahead into the great pink void.

Voided check and even more voided trysts. Where do all the voided checks go? Null and void. Null and void and invalid. Null and void and invalid and forever banished. Null and void and invalid and forever banished and not fit for human consumption. Null and void and invalid and forever banished and not fit for human consumption and not to be consumed with alcohol. Null and void and invalid and forever banished and not fit for human consumption and not to be consumed with alcohol and may cause drowsiness, restlessness, nausea, stroke and in extreme cases death. Null and void and invalid and forever banished and not fit for human consumption and not to be consumed with alcohol. Null and void and invalid and forever banished and not fit for human consumption and not to be consumed with alcohol and may cause drowsiness, restlessness, nausea, stroke and in extreme cases death and not to be attempted at home.

It's the night of the living voided checks, rising from the grave yard of both canceled and voided checks. They have come to be redeemed. They are kneeling before their most financial redeemer. Checks are being franked and books are being foxed. Desperate librarians pour in with boxes of damaged volumes as they bow before the evangelical biblio-dermatologist who lays his hand of the blemished pages.

From a Gentleman's Library

A favorite Sunday activity is checking out the Civic Center farmers market and the Friends of the Library Book Bay. Both have curious bargains. This Sunday I was intrigued by a shelf with the heading "From a Gentleman's Library". There were several dozen beautifully bound and beautifully illustrated volumes, most published before the mid-1920s. I was tempted to buy all of them since few were more than $8.
I did end up going home with a few volumes. This particular one was part of the series called The Home University Bookshelf that features short stories accompanying famous paintings as well as a songbook. Below is an example of the type of tales it spins. I hope you enjoy. Check in, I may share more.

What Color Is Happy Anyway?

There seems to be a happiness conspiracy of sorts out there, and I have to admit that at times I have fallen for it. A couple of my friends have been following the PBS series "This Emotional Life" which concluded with a two hour episode called "Rethinking Happiness" which suggests that people look around in all the wrong places for it or have unrealistic expectations about it.

I'm a bit surprised to realize that I have books I don't fully recall buying with titles such as The Architecture of Happiness and Stumbling onto Happiness. Heck, I'll even admit that I own The Pursuit of Happyness on DVD and a bottle of Clinique's Happy that I have used maybe two times.

So it was a bit fitting of my often conflicted personality that in one week I bought The How of Happiness by Sonja Lyubomirsky and Bright-Sided - How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America by Barbara Ehrenreich. (The red coloring of that one word is quite intriguing, no?)

I'm generally pretty cynical about pop psychology and self help books, but I have to admit that Lyubomirsky's tome is not bad and more focused on goal setting than the various crack theories that Ehrenreich debunks. She is down on everything from prosperity evangelists, Dale Carnegie, the New Thought Movement and just about any of those suggesting that the "laws of attraction" to lead us out of any misery and to the supposed nirvana of happiness. She grounds it all in her personal experience of going through a support group after being diagnosed with cancer and being asked to see her illness as a "gift" from which she could learn and grow.

At first I had trouble with Ehrenreich's seemingly cranky tone that seemed to embrace being bummed out, but I ultimately agree with her that all this happy talk is leaving people numb from real emotions or even having the sanity to see that things are bad and to fight for their rights. Without anger and disatisfaction around segregation, homophobia, sexism, war and a list of countless ills, there also would not have been the movements and activists to take some steps to right these wrongs that still have a long way to go.

Ehrenreich is one of those writers like Mark Kurlansky that I always enjoy reading, even though I know from the beginning where they are going and what will be some of the their main points. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy the ride with them, even if I don't walk away "happy" at the end.

And, by the way, who said yellow is the color of happiness? I've always found bright yellows and pastels to be sort of depressing and have leaned more towards soothing grays, steely blues and crunchy browns. But then again, many people have told me that my handful of yellow shirts are the most flattering ones that I own.

Adrift at Home, Comforted by Chaos

The death of Empire of the Sun author J.G. Ballard on Sunday reminded me of how deeply I related to his semi-autobiographical book that was turned into a not completely bad film. The airing of an old interview with Ballard on Fresh Air today hit on many of the aspects of why that book felt like my own biography. Torn from a life of privilege, he found an odd freedom and respect for his captors in a Japanese prison camp and never felt able to be at home in England or with his family afterward. I've enjoyed several of his other books, but none struck the chord this one did. Just as I was excited when Christian Bale emerged as an adult actor but has never come close to equaling his debut.

Growing up in Oklahoma and Missouri, I always felt alien and found the locals to be far more surreal and incomprehensible than Martians. What interested them made no sense to me, and I've yet to find a place where I've felt completely at home. Okay, maybe Barcelona and Buenos Aires and parts of Shanghai. But the Shanghai of young Ballard is the one I want to live in.

But We Won't Be Watching the Olsen Twin Videos

After going gaga over the Georges Méliès inspired children's book The Invention of Hugo Cabret during the holidays and its Steampunk ethos, Junk Thief may have found a new kids lit book that speaks to him. Diary of Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney lacks the visual sophistication of Cabret, but as the above image shows, it speaks to something very primal and familiar. What is this all saying about Junk Thief if the most compelling new books are those aimed at the "tween" set?

To learn more, this article in New York this week is a good review of this newest submarket.

Book/Oprah Episode Idea

Tips on how to recycle or organize all these rarely read tomes on getting ones life in order.

Reach for the Skies

The Kite Runner was already pretty high on my list of holiday movies, but then seeing this interview today with Khalid Abdalla on Charlie Rose bumped it up a few notches. That face, that voice! That's pretty close to perfection in my book. I must admit to getting a little jealous, though, seeing him get married to woman. What a waste! Most of my comments here probably rile Christian conservatives, now I've offended an entirely new demgraphic.

Junk Thief Luv Him Some Crime

Despite the name of this blog and its occasional tag line of being "your go to place for junk and crime," Junk Thief really hates crime, even the petty kind. You should just see him react to the frequent act of someone here in the Mission District urinating on the side of his 10-year-old Saturn. That's illegal, isn't it? Or at least a public health hazard.

However, books and movies about crime have always compelled it. Aren't gangsters sexy? Well, usually they're also Italian, so that adds to all of it. So last night while out for the evening meal on Valencia, as usual it was impossible to pass Dog Eared Books without stepping in. Junk Thief probably buys (yes, pays, not steals) 15-20 books a month from that place. There was a nifty little volume there by Giacomo Papi called Under Arrest (A History of the Twentieth Century in Mugshots). Junk Thief has always been fascinated by mug shots, though fortunately he's never been the subject of one, although he simulated one in episode 22 of Junk Thief TV.

What is it about mug shots that is so fascinating? Do they hold true the indigenous belief that a camera will steal your soul? Indeed, they are photos most would never want out on the net or media, but the more famous you are the more likely they are to be on covers than some artfully posed glamour shot.

Mr. Papi has compiled an intriguing array of shots. There are plenty of familiar and tacky ones such at the Hugh Grant/Nicole Brown, O.J. Simpson, Nick Nolte and other celebrities caught with their literal or proverbial pants down. There are a few that are a bit more unexpected such as Larry King and Bill Gates (for a routine traffic violation in New Mexico in the 1970s).

Plenty are political or document varying struggles for justice or social change, ranging from Malcom X, Emma Goldman, Jane Fonda, Jack Kavorkian and Fidel Castro. Of course, there are the outright criminals like Ben Siegel and really spooky ones like Jeffrey Dahmer and Timothy McVeigh. What's unexpected are some of the lump in your throat shots such as child prostitutes in China, Auschwitz internees and "homosexual criminals".

Since it couldn't be found on goodreads.com, Junk Thief felt compelled to bring the little volume to others' attention in case it shows up on a mark down table in your neighborhood.

All Around the Household

I came across this rather odd little book by Mark Robbins on the bargain table at the Phoenix Bookstore while running a few errands during lunch today in Noe Valley. While certainly not worth its original $40 price, it was definitely a nice diversion for $10. It's certainly not the usual decorating book but almost a Diane Arbus take on the House and Garden set.

Grounded in the belief that one's home is a strong reflection of one's personality, it is filled with only elliptical portraits of the homes, but full body portraits of the owners, many of them (mainly male and one drag king) in various stages of undress. It's an interesting idea, though I don't plan on publishing those photos from my household anytime soon.

While he seems to be contending that he's showing the anti-Architectural Digest vision of home design photography, most of the people have fairly affluent looking digs and toned bodies. Granted, there are a couple protruding stomachs, a muscle bound queen in Provincetown lives in a tiny attic hovel. But those are the exception. All the same, it's pretty fascinating to play this role of eavesdropping and snooping through people's homes. That's something I miss from my reporting days, but fortunately I get to enter many an impressive abode as a fundraiser, though I have to show much more restraint than I did when I went around with Leica, micro-recorder and notepad. Perhaps that's why I've decided to turn the tables with the exhibitionist blogging/vlogging these days.

Oddly, although most of the subjects are in the eastern U.S., Ohio and Rotterdam (of all places), there were four people I know featured, none of them from California. The vast majority of the couples are male, but fortunately they are posed as individuals and not in those annoying, arms around each other shots to convey that they are a unit. Ultimatley we all stand alone.

I mention the book in part to plug my emerging listings on goodreads.com Anyone who's been to my place can tell you this isn't even the tip of the iceberg, but it's a nicely organized site that allows you to share book titles and reviews with friends. It's clearly meant to encourage sales of the books, but, hey, that's a lot better than just reading blogs, eh? Thanks to Salty Miss Jill for introducing me to it.

Two Lives for the Journey

Certainly the last thing I needed was yet another book to add to the pile on the nightstand shelf, but Martin Duberman's The Worlds of Lincoln Kirstein is proving to be worth the $37.50 investment. Kirstein has always been a fascinating figure, if only for that pouty, overly self-aware expression in all of his photos. (He did an entire series posing as gangsters and boxers despite his Harvard roots.) I've read at least a couple of his self-penned memoirs and other books chronicling his era and circle that sometimes crossed with the previously mentioned Leo Lerman who cites him occaisionally in his journals. These two long lives that were contemporaries. give or take a couple of years, shared a commonality of various same sex couplings but chose very different paths in their mutual marriages. Lerman was with a male partner for decades, and Kirstein was married to a woman in a virtually chaste but not unloving relationship. The crankiness in those photos is apparently not a pose but perhaps connected to his likely bipolar disposition.

Though his lineage and circle are ones I could only dream about, there is much about this 6'3" jewish man's life I could relate to, particularly his own memoirs such as Mosaic in which he muddled fact and fiction and used an anonymous 1930s magazine photograph to represent a past lover. What is fact and what is fiction? And why should one muddle with clarifying those two f-words instead of focusing on truth? That, indeed, is why I ultimately abandoned my path in journalism, but then recent infractions at the Times and New Republic prove that I am not alone in the blurring of the lines.

Kirstein himself summed it up best when introducing a teenage production as being "a world wholly, profoundly dedicated to the realization of the unreal." A "bad "student who was too inventive to follow instructions or color within the lines, he ambled down many paths before making his name in the ballet world and proving one of the most influencial forces in 20th century art. Knowing that it's nearly impossible to sort out the fact and fiction of his life makes the book all the more interesting of a read.

The last thing I am interested in following is a tedious tale of mental disfunction, but that's fortunately a small part of this 723-page read. A couple of decent books, of course, are welcome additions to the impending chase of the sun across America and a good diversion from trying to guess how many people in the two surrounding rows have TB.

In Its Right Place

This weekend has not been without mixed emotions, the first Memorial Weekend where both of my parents are gone and a three day estate sale is going on at Lazy Acres, the house that has been in our family for 50 years. Though I did not grow up there or ever call it home, it was built by my grandparents who developed the neighborhood and named the street after me. Over the past nine months, our family sorted through more than a century of heirlooms, keeping many things, pulling items from our own personal stashes and combining them for the huge sale this weekend.

Was it the right thing to do? That question has come up several times, and one of our cousins attended, as a sort of reconnaissance work, and he sent us his glowing approval. There was also the fear that no one would come (during heavy rains) or that nothing would move. Having assigned the sale to a contractor, we did not attend the event itself, but my sister has been giving me twice daily reports. She stood vigil across the street from a movie theatre parking lot. Though the sale began at 9 a.m., there were over 60 cars at 7:45 a.m.

This afternoon, I went to the little close out book shop at the SF Public Library. Along with the book section of the Community Thrift Store on Valencia, it's one of the most under-rated book sources in San Francisco. As I picked up a book titled Bungalow Nation, a young woman volunteer beamed at me and then disappeared as I continued to search for other finds. When I was checking out, she cooed, "Oh, the bungalow book. I was cherishing that for an hour before I started work and wondered whose hands it would end up in."

Seeing her obvious penchant for the volume I asked if I was grabbing something that she had already planned to purchase herself. "No, my husband would kill me if I brought home one more book. I just wanted to know that it was going to be in the hands of someone who would relish it the way I do. Seeing your face made my day."