Stars
My weird dream. Christian Barter. Star Soup.
I had this super intense dream last week and since then, I’ve sort of re-found that inner chill we all strive for (well, some of us, those of us who aren’t striving for that constant outrage). I’d really missed that inner-chill. I’m glad to have it back.
The dream was wild and complicated. I will not bore you with all that.
But there was this one part of the dream where I was standing outside in a field and to my right, all these stars were being born in this thick and curving line of light.
In my dream I was pretty awestruck and I said to the bald and skinny man (those are my only physical details on the man in my dream) next to me, “What is that?”
“That’s how he makes things,” he said. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
More and more and more stars lit this thickening curving line of light in the darkness.
“It is,” I told him. “It is so beautiful.”
It was.
I’ve been hanging onto that dream beauty—those glorious blossomings of bits of light—all week long, so I’m using that for a theme for our post. Hopefully, something in here will help you a tiny bit the way my dream helped me.
THE POEM
I snagged this poem from Christian Barter who lives in our town and was the poet laureate of Acadia National Park. He’ll be reading at a new bookstore in town on May 18 at 4. Hidden Barn Books is the name of the bookstore.
Stars
Down the driveway, standing on the Russell Farm Road,
nothing but stars over my neighbor’s field
and over my neighbor’s house which crouches
under them with its lit windows,
cozy and distant as a research station.
Between the bare branches left hanging
like threads on cut shirt sleeves, stars tingle,
whole galaxies for the leaves that now fill ditches.
And down the road towards the impoundment lot
stars fill the river that cuts the trees’ black banks.
I stand in my work coat, dizzy with nicotine,
straining my head back like a boy drinking rain
to see more of them, star behind star,
rich milk of stars, ripe fruit of stars,
cast jewels, lit snowflakes, cityscapes of stars
through every window the night has thrown open,
through every perforation in the woods,
and step on the cigarette I’ve dropped in the road,
nothing but stars, stars falling away forever
beneath the veneer of dark that supports my feet.
From In Someone Else’s House (BkMK Press, 2013)
Christian’s website is here: christianbarterpoetry.org
THE PHOTOS
This is my little star hanging out with me on Sunday as we did some cleaning. Thus, the dusty paper towel behind him. He was looking down the street.
And here he is ten minutes earlier looking like a completely different dog! How wild is that? I’m still trying to figure out why his mouth looks highlighted. It must be a weird iPhone thing? Maybe he was moving a tiny bit? I’m not sure, but it makes him seem magical to me. Like a little star of a dog.
STAR SOUP OR SOPA de ESTRELLITAS
When I was little, one of my favorite soups that my aunts would make is a star soup. It turns out this is Mexican and not Portuguese, but everyone seemed to think they were Mexican half the time anyway, maybe they adopted it? I’m not sure.
This recipe from Thrift and Spice is pretty close to what I remember. It’s taken directly from there. I don’t use the chicken bouillon and water, but use veggie stock instead. It serves about four.
What you put in it
7 oz bag of star pasta
2 tbs oil
2 roma tomatoes halved
1/4 piece of a small onion
1 clove garlic peeled
5 tsp chicken bouillon
6 cups water
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp onion powder
Instructions
Add the tomatoes, onion, garlic, chicken bouillon and 1/2 cup of water to a blender. Blend until smooth and set aside.
Heat up a pot over medium heat and add the oil. Once hot add the pasta and fry until golden brown.
Add the cumin, garlic and onion powder and let cook 10 seconds.
Add the blended salsa and let cook 1 min.
Stir in the remaining water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low. Cover and cook for about 7-10 minutes.
BONUS RANDOMNESS
Okay. You have to check out this video from 1991. It’s amazing in its early 1990-ness.
I have no idea what is on his tooth? Glitter? 1991 bling?
Michelle Thaller (below) is an astrophysicist and she’s cool. And she has some AMAZING photos of galaxies in this pretty profound talk.
QUICK NOTE
I send this email once a week. If you would also like to receive it, join the other super-cool, super-smart people who already do. No pressure! But it makes me feel pretty comforted knowing I’m less alone. And please feel free to share.