Celebrate the Women’s March with 24 Goddess GIFs Created by Animator Nina Paley: They’re Free to Download and Remix

As mil­lions of women, men, and friends beyond the bina­ry gear up for Wom­en’s March events around the world this week­end, we can’t help but draw strength from the Venus of Wil­len­dorf in Graph­ics Inter­change For­mat, above.

Like the pussy hats that became the most vis­i­ble sym­bol of last year’s march, there’s a strong ele­ment of humor at play here.

Also respect for the female form.

As Dr. Bryan Zyg­mont notes in his Khan Acad­e­my essay on the Venus of Wil­len­dorf, her exis­tence is evi­dence that “nomadic peo­ple liv­ing almost 25,000 years ago cared about mak­ing objects beau­ti­ful. And … that these Pale­olith­ic peo­ple had an aware­ness of the impor­tance of the women.”

Ani­ma­tor Nina Paley has tak­en up our Pale­olith­ic ances­tors’ baton by cre­at­ing two dozen ear­ly god­dess GIFs, includ­ing the Venus.

As fur­ther proof that sis­ter­hood is pow­er­ful, Paley is shar­ing her unashamed­ly boun­cy pan­theon with the pub­lic. Vis­it her blog to down­load all 24 indi­vid­ual god­dess GIFs. Dis­sem­i­nate them wide­ly. Use them for good! No per­mis­sion need­ed.

Paley is no stranger to god­dess­es, hav­ing pre­vi­ous­ly placed the divine hero­ine of the Ramayana front and cen­ter in her semi-auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal fea­ture length ani­ma­tion, Sita Sings the Blues.

She’s also incred­i­bly famil­iar with rights issues, fol­low­ing mas­sive com­pli­ca­tions with some vin­tage record­ings her Bet­ty Boop-ish Sita lip-synchs in the film. (She had pre­vi­ous­ly believed them to be in the pub­lic domain.) Unable to pay the huge sum the copy­right hold­ers demand­ed to license the tunes, Paley ulti­mate­ly decid­ed to relin­quish all legal claims to her own film, plac­ing Sita Sings the Blues in the pub­lic domain, to be freely shared, exhib­it­ed, or even remixed.

If Paley’s the poster child for copy­right issues she’s also a shin­ing exam­ple of deriv­ing pow­er from unlike­ly sources.

As she wrote on her web­site near­ly ten years ago:

My per­son­al expe­ri­ence con­firms audi­ences are gen­er­ous and want to sup­port artists. Sure­ly there’s a way for this to hap­pen with­out cen­tral­ly con­trol­ling every trans­ac­tion. The old busi­ness mod­el of coer­cion and extor­tion is fail­ing. New mod­els are emerg­ing, and I’m hap­py to be part of that. But we’re still mak­ing this up as we go along. You are free to make mon­ey with the free con­tent of Sita Sings the Blues, and you are free to share mon­ey with me. Peo­ple have been mak­ing mon­ey in Free Soft­ware for years; it’s time for Free Cul­ture to fol­low. I look for­ward to your inno­va­tions.

As for Paley’s own plans for her god­dess­es, they’ll be a part of her upcom­ing ani­mat­ed musi­cal, Seder-Masochism, not­ing that “all ear­ly peo­ples con­ceived the divine as female.”

Down­load Nina Paley’s God­dess GIFs here. Watch Sita Sings the Blues here. March ever onward!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

3D Scans of 7,500 Famous Sculp­tures, Stat­ues & Art­works: Down­load & 3D Print Rodin’s Thinker, Michelangelo’s David & More

How Ancient Greek Stat­ues Real­ly Looked: Research Reveals their Bold, Bright Col­ors and Pat­terns

The God­dess: A Clas­sic from the Gold­en Age of Chi­nese Cin­e­ma, Star­ring the Silent Film Icon Ruan Lingyu (1934)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Join her on Feb­ru­ary 8 for Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain, when a host of New York City-based per­form­ers and musi­cians will res­ur­rect  a long for­got­ten work from 1911 as a low bud­get, vari­ety show. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

What is the Secret to Living a Long, Happy & Creatively Fulfilling Life?: Discover the Japanese Concept of Ikigai

Ikiru, one of sev­er­al Aki­ra Kuro­sawa films rou­tine­ly described as a mas­ter­piece, tells the sto­ry of Kan­ji Watan­abe, a mid­dle-aged wid­ow­er who, three decades into a dead-end bureau­crat­ic career, finds out he has just one year to live. This sends him on an urgent eleventh-hour quest to find some­thing to live for. The pic­ture’s The Death of Ivan Ilyich-inspired script orig­i­nal­ly bore the title The Life of Kan­ji Watan­abe, but Kuro­sawa chose to rename it for the Japan­ese verb mean­ing “to live” (生きる). And any­one who wants to tru­ly ikiru needs an iki­gai.

A com­bi­na­tion of char­ac­ters from the Japan­ese words for “liv­ing” and “effect” or “worth,” iki­gai (生き甲斐) as a con­cept has recent­ly come to atten­tion in the West, not least because of last year’s best­seller Iki­gai: The Japan­ese Secret to a Long and Hap­py Life by Héc­tor Gar­cía and‎ Francesc Miralles. (Note: You can get the best­seller as a free audio book if you sign up for Audi­ble’s 30-day free tri­al pro­gram. Get details on that here.)

Writer on health and longevi­ty Dan Buet­tner has also done his bit to pro­mote iki­gai, inter­pret­ing it as “the rea­son for which you wake up in the morn­ing” in a TED Talk based on his research in the places with the longest-lived pop­u­la­tions in the world, a group that includes the Japan­ese island of Oki­nawa.

“For this 102-year-old karate mas­ter, his iki­gai was car­ry­ing forth this mar­tial art,” Buet­tner says of one Oki­nawan in par­tic­u­lar. “For this hun­dred-year-old fish­er­man it was con­tin­u­ing to catch fish for his fam­i­ly three times a week.” He notes that “the two most dan­ger­ous years in your life are the year you’re born, because of infant mor­tal­i­ty, and the year you retire. These peo­ple know their sense of pur­pose, and they acti­vate it in their life, that’s worth about sev­en years of extra life expectan­cy.” This phe­nom­e­non has also come under sci­en­tif­ic study: one paper pub­lished in Psy­cho­so­mat­ic Med­i­cine found, track­ing a group of more than 40,000 Japan­ese adults over sev­en years, “sub­jects who did not find a sense of iki­gai were asso­ci­at­ed with an increased risk of all-cause mor­tal­i­ty.”

We in the West have long looked to the tra­di­tion­al con­cepts of oth­er cul­tures for guid­ance, but the Japan­ese them­selves, a pop­u­la­tion among whom dis­sat­is­fac­tion with life is not unknown, have long scru­ti­nized iki­gai to draw out use­ful lessons. “There are many books in Japan devot­ed to iki­gai, but one in par­tic­u­lar is con­sid­ered defin­i­tive: Iki­gai-ni-tsuite (About Iki­gai), pub­lished in 1966,” writes the BBC’s Yukari Mit­suhashi. “The book’s author, psy­chi­a­trist Mieko Kamiya, explains that as a word, iki­gai is sim­i­lar to ‘hap­pi­ness’ but has a sub­tle dif­fer­ence in its nuance. Iki­gai is what allows you to look for­ward to the future even if you’re mis­er­able right now.”

Aki­ra Kuro­sawa, who paint­ed his movies when he could­n’t find the mon­ey to shoot them, stands as a tow­er­ing exam­ple of some­one who found his iki­gai in film­mak­ing, which he kept on doing it into his eight­ies. In Ikiru, he guides the bewil­dered Watan­abe into an encounter with iki­gai in the form of a young lady who quits her job in his office to make toy rab­bits: more ardu­ous work than the civ­il ser­vice, she admits, but it gives her a sense of sat­is­fac­tion that feels like play­ing with every child in Japan. This inspires Watan­abe to return to find his own iki­gai, if only at the very end of his life, in cam­paign­ing for the con­struc­tion of a neigh­bor­hood play­ground. But one year with iki­gai, if you believe in the pow­er of the con­cept, beats a cen­tu­ry with­out it.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

“Inemuri,” the Japan­ese Art of Tak­ing Pow­er Naps at Work, on the Sub­way, and Oth­er Pub­lic Places

Wabi-Sabi: A Short Film on the Beau­ty of Tra­di­tion­al Japan

How a Kore­an Pot­ter Found a “Beau­ti­ful Life” Through His Art: A Short, Life-Affirm­ing Doc­u­men­tary

Change Your Life! Learn the Japan­ese Art of Declut­ter­ing, Orga­niz­ing & Tidy­ing Things Up

How the Japan­ese Prac­tice of “For­est Bathing”—Or Just Hang­ing Out in the Woods—Can Low­er Stress Lev­els and Fight Dis­ease

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Woody Guthrie Creates a Doodle-Filled List of 33 New Year’s Resolutions (1943): Beat Fascism, Write a Song a Day, and Keep the Hoping Machine Running

On Jan­u­ary 1, 1943, the Amer­i­can folk music leg­end Woody Guthrie jot­ted in his jour­nal a list of 33 “New Years Rulin’s.” Nowa­days, we’d call them New Year’s Res­o­lu­tions. Adorned by doo­dles, the list is down to earth by any mea­sure. Fam­i­ly, song, tak­ing a polit­i­cal stand, per­son­al hygiene — they’re the val­ues or aspi­ra­tions that top his list. You can click the image above to view the list in a larg­er for­mat. Below, we have pro­vid­ed a tran­script of Guthrie’s Rulin’s.

1. Work more and bet­ter
2. Work by a sched­ule
3. Wash teeth if any
4. Shave
5. Take bath
6. Eat good — fruit — veg­eta­bles — milk
7. Drink very scant if any
8. Write a song a day
9. Wear clean clothes — look good
10. Shine shoes
11. Change socks
12. Change bed cloths often
13. Read lots good books
14. Lis­ten to radio a lot
15. Learn peo­ple bet­ter
16. Keep ran­cho clean
17. Dont get lone­some
18. Stay glad
19. Keep hop­ing machine run­ning
20. Dream good
21. Bank all extra mon­ey
22. Save dough
23. Have com­pa­ny but dont waste time
24. Send Mary and kids mon­ey
25. Play and sing good
26. Dance bet­ter
27. Help win war — beat fas­cism
28. Love mama
29. Love papa
30. Love Pete
31. Love every­body
32. Make up your mind
33. Wake up and fight

We wish you all a hap­py 2018.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Note: This fine list orig­i­nal­ly appeared on our site back in 2014.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Pow­er­ful Mes­sages That Woody Guthrie & Pete Seeger Inscribed on Their Gui­tar & Ban­jo: “This Machine Kills Fas­cists” and “This Machine Sur­rounds Hate and Forces it to Sur­ren­der”

Hear Two Leg­ends, Lead Bel­ly & Woody Guthrie, Per­form­ing on the Same Radio Show (1940)

Woody Guthrie’s Fan Let­ter To John Cage and Alan Hov­haness (1947)

Seeger: To Hear Your Ban­jo Play

The Alan Lomax Sound Archive Now Online: Fea­tures 17,000 Record­ings

How to “Hijack” Amazon Prime for Good: Short Video Shows How Prime & Other Instant Delivery Services Can Easily Help the Homeless

Today, it’s 18 degrees in New York City, 4 degrees in Chica­go, and 13 degrees in Boston. It’s damn cold, espe­cial­ly for the home­less.

Keep this in mind as you watch Rob Bliss’ short video above. In a poignant video, he points out how ser­vices offer­ing the imme­di­ate deliv­ery of prod­ucts and ser­vices could eas­i­ly help the home­less. While he uses Ama­zon Prime as an exam­ple, the same idea could be extend­ed to ser­vices like Door­Dash, Grub­Hub, and UberEats (which is appar­ent­ly now out­grow­ing the taxi busi­ness in some cities).

via Swiss Miss

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 5 ) |

What Is Procrastination & How Can We Solve It? An Introduction by One of the World’s Leading Procrastination Experts

I don’t know about you, but my ten­den­cy to pro­cras­ti­nate feels like a char­ac­ter flaw. And yet, no amount of mor­al­iz­ing with myself makes any dif­fer­ence. Feel­ing bad, in fact, only makes things worse. Per­haps that’s because—as Tim Pychyl, Asso­ciate Pro­fes­sor in Psy­chol­o­gy at Car­leton Uni­ver­si­ty argues—procrastination is not a moral fail­ing so much as a cop­ing mech­a­nism for painful feel­ings, a psy­cho­log­i­cal avoid­ance of tasks we fear for some rea­son: because we fear rejec­tion or fail­ure, or even the bur­dens of suc­cess.

Pychyl should know. He’s made study­ing pro­cras­ti­na­tion the basis of his career and runs the 20-year-old Pro­cras­ti­na­tion Research Group. Pro­cras­ti­na­tion is a “puz­zle,” he the­o­rizes (the title of one of his books is Solv­ing the Pro­cras­ti­na­tion Puz­zleA Con­cise Guide to Strate­gies for Change). Solv­ing it involves under­stand­ing how its pieces work, includ­ing our beliefs about how it oper­ates. Pychyl’s lec­ture above address­es grad­u­ate stu­dents charged with help­ing under­grad­u­ates who pro­cras­ti­nate, but its lessons apply to all of us. In his first slide, Pychyl out­lines four typ­i­cal beliefs about pro­cras­ti­na­tion:

It’s me

It’s the task

It’s the way I think

It’s my lack of willpow­er

Pychyl wants to debunk these notions, but he also argues that pro­cras­ti­na­tion is “some­thing we seem to under­stand very well” in pop­u­lar par­lance. One of his slides shows a typ­i­cal “successories”-type poster that reads, “Pro­cras­ti­na­tion: hard work often pays off after time, but lazi­ness always pays off now.” While Pychyl doesn’t use judg­men­tal lan­guage like “lazi­ness,” he does acknowl­edge that pro­cras­ti­na­tion results from ideas about short- ver­sus long-term gain. We want to feel good, right now, a dri­ve com­mon to every­one.

The next poster reads “if the job’s worth doing, it will still be worth doing tomor­row.” The notion of the “future self” plays a role—the you of tomor­row who still has to face the work your present self puts off. “What are we doing to ‘future self?’” Pychyl asks. “If we can just bring future self into clear­er vision, lots of times the pro­cras­ti­na­tion may go away.” This has been demon­strat­ed in research stud­ies, Ana Swan­son notes at The Wash­ing­ton Post, in which peo­ple made bet­ter deci­sions after view­ing dig­i­tal­ly-aged pho­tographs of them­selves. But in gen­er­al, we tend not to have much con­sid­er­a­tion for “future self.”

A final suc­ces­sories slide reads, “Pro­cras­ti­na­tion: by not doing what you should be doing, you could be hav­ing this much fun.” This is one of the most per­va­sive forms of self-delu­sion. We may con­vince our­selves that putting dif­fi­cult things off for tomor­row means more fun today. But the amount of guilt we feel ensures a dif­fer­ent expe­ri­ence. “Guilt is a par­a­lyz­ing emo­tion,” Pychyl says. When we put off an impor­tant task, we feel ter­ri­ble. And often, instead of enjoy­ing life, we cre­ate more work for our­selves that makes us feel pur­pose­ful, like cook­ing or clean­ing. This “task man­age­ment” game tem­porar­i­ly relieves guilt, but it does not address the cen­tral prob­lem. We sim­ply “man­age our emo­tions by man­ag­ing our tasks.”

The word pro­cras­ti­na­tion comes direct­ly from clas­si­cal Latin and trans­lates to “put for­ward” that which “belongs to tomor­row.” This sounds benign, giv­en that many a task does indeed belong to tomor­row. But pru­dent plan­ning is one thing, pro­cras­ti­na­tion is anoth­er. When we put off what we can or should accom­plish today, we invoke tomor­row as “a mys­ti­cal land where 98% of all human pro­duc­tiv­i­ty, moti­va­tion, and achieve­ment are stored.” The dis­tinc­tion between plan­ning or unavoid­able delay and pro­cras­ti­na­tion is impor­tant. When delays are either inten­tion­al or the con­se­quence of unpre­dictable life events, we need not con­sid­er them a prob­lem. “All pro­cras­ti­na­tion is delay, but not all delay is pro­cras­ti­na­tion.”

So, to sum up Pychyl’s research on our atti­tudes about pro­cras­ti­na­tion: “we think we’re hav­ing more fun, but we’re not”; “we think we’re not affect­ing future self, but we are”; and “it’s all about giv­ing in to feel good,” which—see point num­ber one—doesn’t actu­al­ly work that well.

While we might min­i­mize pro­cras­ti­na­tion as a minor issue, its per­son­al costs tell us oth­er­wise, includ­ing severe impacts to “per­for­mance, well-being, health, rela­tion­ships, regrets & bereave­ment.” Pro­cras­ti­na­tors get sick more often, report high­er rates of depres­sion, and suf­fer the somat­ic and psy­cho­log­i­cal effects of ele­vat­ed stress. Pro­cras­ti­na­tion doesn’t only affect our per­son­al well-being and integri­ty, but it has an eth­i­cal dimen­sion, affect­ing those around us who suf­fer “sec­ond-hand,” either because of the time we take away from them when we rush off to fin­ish things last-minute, or because the stress we put our­selves under neg­a­tive­ly affects the health of our rela­tion­ships.

But pro­cras­ti­na­tion begins first and fore­most with our rela­tion­ship to our­selves. Again, we put things off not because we are moral­ly defi­cient, or “lazy,” but because our emo­tion­al brains are try­ing to cope. We feel some sig­nif­i­cant degree of fear or anx­i­ety about the task at hand. The guilt and shame that comes with not accom­plish­ing the task com­pounds the prob­lem, and leads to fur­ther pro­cras­ti­na­tion. “The behav­ior,” writes Swan­son, turns into “a vicious, self-defeat­ing cycle.”

How do we get out of the self-made loop of pro­cras­ti­na­tion? Just as in the fail­ure of the “Just say No” cam­paign, sim­ply shak­ing our­selves by the metaphor­i­cal shoul­ders and telling our­selves to get to work isn’t enough. We have to deal with the emo­tions that set things in motion, and in this case, that means going easy on our­selves. “Research sug­gests that one of the most effec­tive things that pro­cras­ti­na­tors can do is to for­give them­selves for pro­cras­ti­nat­ing,” Swan­son reports.

Once we reduce the guilt, we can weak­en the pro­cliv­i­ty to pro­cras­ti­nate. Then, para­dox­i­cal­ly, we need to ignore our emo­tions. “Most of us seem to tac­it­ly believe,” Pychyl says, “that our emo­tion­al state has to match the task at hand.” For writ­ers and artists, this belief has a lofty pedi­gree in roman­tic ideas about inspi­ra­tion and mus­es. Irrel­e­vant, the pro­cras­ti­na­tion expert says. When approach­ing some­thing dif­fi­cult, “I have to rec­og­nize that I’m rarely going to feel like it, and it doesn’t mat­ter if I don’t feel like it.” Feel­ings of moti­va­tion and cre­ative inspi­ra­tion often strike us in the midst of a task, not before. Break­ing down daunt­ing activ­i­ties into small­er tasks, and approach­ing these one at a time, gives us a prac­ti­cal roadmap for con­quer­ing pro­cras­ti­na­tion. For more insights and research find­ings, watch Pychyl’s full lec­ture, and lis­ten to him dis­cuss his research on the Healthy Fam­i­ly pod­cast just above.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Neu­ro­science & Psy­chol­o­gy of Pro­cras­ti­na­tion, and How to Over­come It

How Infor­ma­tion Over­load Robs Us of Our Cre­ativ­i­ty: What the Sci­en­tif­ic Research Shows

Why You Do Your Best Think­ing In The Show­er: Cre­ativ­i­ty & the “Incu­ba­tion Peri­od”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Where Are They Now? An Animated Mockumentary Reveals What Happened to Your Favorite 1980s Cartoon Characters After Their Heyday

It’s a cau­tion­ary tale about what hap­pens when the world you pre­pared your­self for changes and leaves you behind. Cold­ly, and some­times with­out warn­ing.

Above, watch Steve Cutts’ 2014 ani­mat­ed mock­u­men­tary, “Where Are They Now?”. Star­ring Roger and Jes­si­ca Rab­bit, and fea­tur­ing cameos by Garfield and The Smurfs, the short film revis­its car­toon char­ac­ters who had it all in the 1980s. Then hit the skids in the ear­ly 90s. Hard. “We had done our jobs,” says an aged Jes­si­ca Rab­bit. “Now we were for­got­ten about. Obso­lete.” It’s a bleak pic­ture that Cutts paints. But, it’s not all bad. He-Man became a wealthy lin­gerie design­er. We could all use a well-thought-out Plan B.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Look Inside Mel Blanc’s Throat as He Per­forms the Voic­es of Bugs Bun­ny and Oth­er Car­toon Leg­ends

Chuck Jones’ 9 Rules For Draw­ing Road Run­ner Car­toons, or How to Cre­ate a Min­i­mal­ist Mas­ter­piece

The Long Game of Cre­ativ­i­ty: If You Haven’t Cre­at­ed a Mas­ter­piece at 30, You’re Not a Fail­ure

What Is a Life-Changing Realization You Wish You’d Had Sooner in Life?

The cal­en­dar date may be arbi­trary, a quirk of his­to­ry that could have been otherwise—but it’s no coin­ci­dence, I think, that New Year’s pro­duces a reflec­tive mood, a time of look­ing both back­ward and for­ward, espe­cial­ly in those parts of the world cur­rent­ly held in winter’s chill and dark, await­ing the thaw of spring. The turn of the Gre­go­ri­an cal­en­dar seems to beg us to pro­duce some sober wis­dom amidst the rev­el­ry of the hol­i­days: to account for what we’ve learned, rumi­nate on inten­tions, take gen­er­al stock of our per­son­al stores.

It’s also a time when we con­nect with our younger selves (many of us hav­ing just spent a few days vis­it­ing par­ents, home­towns, and child­hood bed­rooms). Those younger selves can seem cal­low and naïve in hind­sight, and though it’s hard­ly any use liv­ing with regret, we might wish with some degree of rue that we could have han­dled some things better—and applied the hard-won real­iza­tions of the present much ear­li­er. It’s a com­mon enough sen­ti­ment, han­dled per­fect­ly in The Faces’ “Ooh La La.”

I wish, for exam­ple, that I had learned how to med­i­tate years before I did. It might have saved my young, moody, impul­sive self a world a grief. (But then again, with­out that grief, would I have ever learned to med­i­tate?) Recent­ly, a MetaFil­ter user revis­it­ed a post from 2013 that asked the ques­tion (“What is a life chang­ing real­iza­tion that you wish you’d had soon­er?”) to the inter­net com­mu­ni­ty at large. The respons­es ranged from the fair­ly gener­ic (“it’s okay if you don’t want to be friends with your exes”) to the per­son­al, spe­cif­ic, and col­or­ful. See a sam­pling of the answers below from both the orig­i­nal 2013 thread and the recent 2017 repost:

Love leaves scars. And that’s a good thing. We want to be per­ma­nent­ly affect­ed by the ones that we love. Oth­er­wise, it’s not real­ly love. And like any oth­er scar, it begins as a painful wound, goes through the peri­od of laud­able pus dur­ing which you drain out all the bad stuff, and then, even­tu­al­ly, heals to a pain­less but vis­i­ble scar.

This seems kin­da sil­ly, but a cou­ple of years ago I real­ized that I am under no oblig­a­tion to fin­ish a book that I don’t like. As a read­er, that was such an epiphany! 

The most impor­tant and dan­ger­ous tool in the lives of aver­age peo­ple is com­pound inter­est.

Behav­iour is dri­ven by emo­tion, not ratio­nal thought: instead of try­ing to force myself to do things by berat­ing myself, I get my emo­tions in order first by syn­the­sis­ing the feel­ing of hav­ing already done it. My pro­cras­ti­na­tion has been rad­i­cal­ly reduced, and I’m freer to get on and do the things I need to do.

Take oth­er people’s head injuries seri­ous­ly. Some­one who’s just had a blow to the brain is not qual­i­fied to judge whether it is “no big deal.” 

Hon­or the parts of your­self that are elu­sive and mys­te­ri­ous and maybe unin­tel­li­gi­ble to oth­er peo­ple. Whether that means embrac­ing an iden­ti­ty like “queer non­bi­na­ry trans woman” or becom­ing more com­fort­able with cry­ing and not know­ing why or not hav­ing opin­ions and answers at hand… Prac­tice not know­ing. 

I’m par­tial to these offer­ings because I find them mov­ing, fun­ny, or con­ver­sant with what­ev­er mea­ger wis­dom I like to think I’ve acquired after much tri­al and error. But what about you? As 2017 winds to a close—a year fraught with more stress and anx­i­ety than most—which answers leap out to you? Or, if you’re brave and feel like shar­ing, what would you like to pass on to your younger, more bum­bling self if you could go back and have a sit-down with him or her? Please pass along your thoughts and wis­dom in the com­ments below.

via MetaFil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Will You Real­ly Achieve Hap­pi­ness If You Final­ly Win the Rat Race? Don’t Answer the Ques­tion Until You’ve Watched Steve Cutts’ New Ani­ma­tion

“Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Bet­ter”: How Samuel Beck­ett Cre­at­ed the Unlike­ly Mantra That Inspires Entre­pre­neurs Today

Watch “Alike,” a Poignant Short Ani­mat­ed Film About the Endur­ing Con­flict Between Cre­ativ­i­ty and Con­for­mi­ty

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Eudora Welty’s Handwritten Eggnog Recipe, and Charles Dickens’ Recipe for Holiday Punch

’Tis the sea­son to break out the fam­i­ly recipes of beloved rel­a­tives, though often their prove­nance is not quite what we think.

(Imag­ine the cog­ni­tive dis­so­nance upon dis­cov­er­ing that Moth­er swiped “her” Ital­ian Zuc­chi­ni Cres­cent Pie from Pills­bury Bake-Off win­ner, Mil­li­cent Nathan of Boca Raton, Flori­da…)

When it came to cred­it­ing the eggnog she dubbed “the taste of Christ­mas Day,” above, Pulitzer Prize-win­ning author Eudo­ra Wel­ty shared it out equal­ly between her moth­er and author Charles Dick­ens:

In our house while I was grow­ing up, I don’t remem­ber that hard liquor was served at all except on one day in the year. Ear­ly on Christ­mas morn­ing, we woke up to the sound of the egg­beat­er: Moth­er in the kitchen was whip­ping up eggnog. All in our bathrobes, we began our Christ­mas before break­fast. Through­out the day Moth­er made batch­es afresh. All our callers expect­ed her eggnog.

It was ladled from the punch bowl into punch cups and sil­ver gob­lets, and had to be eat­en with a spoon. It stood up in peaks. It was rich, creamy and strong. Moth­er gave full cred­it for the recipe to Charles Dick­ens.

Nice, but per­haps Dick­ens is unde­serv­ing of this hon­or? The con­tents of his punch­bowl bore lit­tle resem­blance to Moth­er Welty’s, as evi­denced by an 1847 let­ter to his child­hood friend, Amelia Fil­loneau, in which he shared a recipe he promised would make her “a beau­ti­ful Punch­mak­er in more sens­es than one”:

Peel into a very strong com­mon basin (which may be bro­ken, in case of acci­dent, with­out dam­age to the owner’s peace or pock­et) the rinds of three lemons, cut very thin, and with as lit­tle as pos­si­ble of the white coat­ing between the peel and the fruit, attached. Add a dou­ble-hand­full of lump sug­ar (good mea­sure), a pint of good old rum, and a large wine-glass full of brandy — if it not be a large claret-glass, say two. Set this on fire, by fill­ing a warm sil­ver spoon with the spir­it, light­ing the con­tents at a wax taper, and pour­ing them gen­tly in. Let it burn for three or four min­utes at least, stir­ring it from time to Time. Then extin­guish it by cov­er­ing the basin with a tray, which will imme­di­ate­ly put out the flame. Then squeeze in the juice of the three lemons, and add a quart of boil­ing water. Stir the whole well, cov­er it up for five min­utes, and stir again.

This sounds very like the “seething bowls of punch” the jol­ly Ghost of Christ­mas Present shows Ebenez­er Scrooge in A Christ­mas Car­ol, dim­ming the cham­ber with their deli­cious steam.

It’s also veg­an, in con­trast to what you might have been served in the Wel­ty ladies’ home.

Why not serve both? In the words of Tiny Tim, “Here’s to us all!”

Eudo­ra Welty’s Mother’s Eggnog (Attrib­uted, Per­haps Erro­neous­ly, to Charles Dick­ens)

6 egg yolks, well beat­en

Add 3 tbsp. pow­dered sug­ar

Add 1 cup whiskey, added slow­ly, beat­ing all the while

Fold in 1 pint whipped cream

Whip 6 whipped egg whites and add to the mix­ture above.

 

Charles Dick­ens’ Hol­i­day Punch (adapt­ed from Punch by David Won­drich)

3/4 cup sug­ar

3 lemons

2 cups rum

1 1/4 cups cognac

5 cups black tea (or hot water)

Gar­nish: lemon and orange wheels, fresh­ly grat­ed nut­meg

In the basin of an enam­eled cast-iron pot or heat­proof bowl, add sug­ar and the peels of three lemons.

Rub lemons and sug­ar togeth­er to release cit­rus oils. For more greater infu­sion, let sit for 30 min­utes.

Add rum and cognac to the sug­ar and cit­rus.

Light a match, and, using a heat­proof spoon (stain­less steel is best), pick up a spoon­ful of the spir­it mix.

Care­ful­ly bring the match to the spoon to light.

Care­ful­ly bring the lit spoon to the spir­its in the bowl.

Let the spir­its burn for about three min­utes. The fire will melt the sug­ar and extract the oil from the lemon peels.

Extin­guish the bowl by cov­er­ing it with a heat­proof pan or tray.

Skim off the lemon peels (leav­ing them too long in may impart a bit­ter fla­vor).

Squeeze in the juice of the three peeled lemons, and add hot tea or water.

If serv­ing the punch hot, skip to the next step. If serv­ing cold, cool punch in the refrig­er­a­tor and, when cooled, add ice.

Gar­nish with cit­rus wheels and grat­ed nut­meg.

Ladle into indi­vid­ual glass­es.

Learn more about these and oth­er fes­tive hol­i­day drinks in Mas­ter of Wine Eliz­a­beth Gabay’s essay “Cel­e­brat­ing Christ­mas and New Year With Punch.”

Image above via Gar­den and Gun

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Charles Min­gus’ “Top Secret” Eggnog Recipe Con­tains “Enough Alco­hol to Put Down an Ele­phant”

Blue Christ­mas: Feed Your Sea­son­al Depres­sion with Hol­i­day Mas­ter­pieces

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast
Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.