{"id":1773,"date":"2009-11-02T21:10:23","date_gmt":"2009-11-03T02:10:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=1773"},"modified":"2009-11-02T22:54:48","modified_gmt":"2009-11-03T03:54:48","slug":"angelus-to-angelus","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=1773","title":{"rendered":"Angelus to Angelus"},"content":{"rendered":"

November 2, 2009
\nMonday<\/strong><\/p>\n

What then shall I do this morning? How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends\u00c2\u00a0from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days.
\n<\/em>\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 \u00e2\u20ac\u201d Annie Dillard, b. 1945
\n\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0 American writer, from The Writing Life<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00c2\u00a0\"nablo091\"I used Annie Dillard’s thoughts about the importance of a schedule in July of 2006<\/a>, just before I left for Vermont. I identified Chaos and Whim as two of my best friends. Although I’ve gotten pretty good at working with Melanie, the Black Bitch of my depression, I still let Chaos and Whim have far too much to say in how I spend my days.<\/p>\n

Now that I’ve shaken Melanie and gained some clarity, I’ve devised a schedule that I think will serve me at least for the next two months. Though I nominally share The Aerie<\/a> with another writer, her needs and her obligations and the way she approaches her work have changed, and I have carte blanche<\/em>, for the nonce, to use the space without consultation. I have decided that I\u00c2\u00a0will work\u00c2\u00a0here at least three days a week, Angelus to Angelus.\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"millet-4\"<\/p>\n

The Angelus is a Catholic tradition dating from probably the eleventh century. Recalling the scriptural account of the annunciation by the angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary that she was to become the mother of God, it is recited three times each day, at 6 in the morning, noon, and 6 in the evening, accompanied by the ringing of the church bell. The practice of stopping one’s work for this brief devotion is depicted in a painting by the 19th-century French artist Jean-Fran\u00c3\u00a7ois Millet, seen at right. This painting is among those art treasures I first fell in love with, surreptitiously sneaking the\u00c2\u00a0textbook\u00c2\u00a0onto my lap during my fourth grade teacher’s endless math drills. Looking at it now reminds me of those days, and of my grandmother, who, like Millet’s subjects, stopped what she was doing to say the Angelus.<\/p>\n

Mammam knew when it was time for this brief devotion even without looking at a clock. We could hear the bells of our parish church, Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament, sounding the call to prayer from its tall steeple just two blocks down the hill from where we lived.<\/p>\n

\"olbs\"Our Lady’s is, of course, directly across the water from my studio. It is very nearly the first thing I see when I get to the top of the steps and turn to my right to put down my bag. Nevertheless, I was a bit startled the first time I heard the Angelus ring at noon. I had never considered that the deep clang would be carried on the air west into my open studio window the same way it always carried east into our attic, my very first studio, where I set up a table and chair and pretended to be Jo March.<\/p>\n

I have devised an answer for people who ask me how long it took me to write a particular piece. “Two years (or ten\u00c2\u00a0months or fifteen minutes) and all my life,” I say. As I noted yesterday<\/a>, the neighborhood that the church stands in became something of a character in the manuscript I worked on throughout much of October. To have the Angelus rung by the church of my childhood\u00c2\u00a0anchor my work day, calling me to focus at noon and reminding me to rest at six, seems exquisitely fitting.<\/p>\n

*********<\/p>\n

The NaBlos of the past:<\/p>\n

2008: What The Hell Is That?<\/a>\u00c2\u00a0–\u00c2\u00a0[Redding out\u00c2\u00a0a kitchen drawer]\u00c2\u00a0I found two Christmas-themed pot holders, a red casserole grabber that actually belongs to Lynn (it came in a set of learn-to-cook items I got her when she was ten), and some chip bag clips. At the very back of the drawer I found the device pictured at left. In the words of Steve Martin from<\/em> Saturday Night Live, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What the hell is that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/em><\/p>\n

2007: Fridge Friday I<\/a> — \u00c2\u00a0I had a call from my\u00c2\u00a0doctor with my lab results. My cholesterol levels suggest that there is nothing flowing through my veins but Velveeta cheese. The level of my replacement thyroid hormone (I have acquired hypothyroidism) is so inadequate that she doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know how I am even able to stand up. My bone density has deteriorated, and the mammography place wants me to come back for a different kind of test \u00e2\u20ac\u0153just to be sure.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The good news? I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not pregnant (they had to test<\/strong> for that?), and I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have chlamydia (I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think so), although there is a proliferation of e.\u00c2\u00a0coli<\/span>\u00c2\u00a0E. coli* that could use some attention.<\/em><\/p>\n

2006: Phenomenon<\/a> — Yesterday I did manage to post\u00c2\u00a0[here] and<\/strong> write more than 2700 words for the novel I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve evidently begun. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m also working on a presentation to be given Sunday to a church group on cemeteries, a subject close to my heart. Not only do I have to write the presentation, I have to put together a slide show from the hundreds of photos I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve taken over the last few years of weeping angels and elaborate headstones. This is more productivity than I have\u00c2\u00a0achieved in the last several months put together. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know where the energy and the concentration are coming from.<\/em><\/p>\n

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