undergraduated

• when we were packing up my room, Papa stepped on a party popper. A little of the curled up confetti tumbled out, and I put it in the trash bin with other scraps of forgettable memories.
• after the ceremony there was a bbq at Blithewood. The sky was the clearest I've ever seen it. Looking at the river and the mountains beyond felt like looking through a stereoscope: everything was too three dimensional, each plane flattening in the saturation of detail. A little after nine, the fireworks started. We lay on a blanket, the dragon spirits flickering overhead. With each explosion came a delayed sound, which in turn rolled up against the Catskills and echoed over the Hudson river and back into the valley. I remembered that my first memory was from not wanting to fall asleep while watching the fourth of July fireworks at Brandeis (I was two)
• the robes are made of 100% polyester. I saw people that I thought had graduated, or dropped out - but no, there they were, lining up for the procession, sitting through Nancy Pelosi's campaign speech, shaking president Botstein's hand and receiving their diploma. Walking out and trying to find relatives and friends.Taking photos, smiling.
• I didn't get to say good bye to everyone. I bumped into Shinno and Ben there, (Shinno's going to Pratt!) and met Kelsey's brother. Sorrel Kelsey Hannah and I went to a bon fire at the community garden. When we arrived it was filled with alums and everyone seemed content and happier than we are now, and I chatted with some '09-er for a bit and Jo and others came. We waited for the shuttle which was an hour late, with Jack and Will and Steven and Jeff. Those were the partings. 
• there are other endings. 

emerald leaves

The emerald leaves are like a latent desire. Autumn comes and the leaves fall shivering in the wind, until the trees stand naked, branches arched achingly against the sky. The trees' heart beats slow and they hold the weight of snow and break under the burden of ice and we want but know not what. And then spring comes, and first the flowers bloom, and then the leaves begin. Tentatively, limp translucent green and fuzzy curls. We say "I had forgotten that trees have leaves, but they do and Oh! Oh! that is what I wanted all along". 


partings are beginning. I swung with Amanda in a hammock one late evening before going down to the waterfall, sang at Baccalaureate yesterday, which was followed by senior dinner. Had a meeting with a clinical professor for an hour and half, hoping for words of wisdom, and attended a bonfire/bbq at the co-op. Psychology luncheon and surrealist circus.

campus is mostly empty and almost all the students left are seniors -- feels nothing like l&t. It's more or less the same group, at least by name, as the ones who entered freshman year three weeks before the rest of the school had arrived. Oh! Oh! We cannot and will not go back.

night blossom

I was the first Russian girl Adrienne was ever friends with, so we have been planning on watching The Russians Are Coming The Russians are Coming (1966 USA) since freshman year and finally followed through today. This morning Amanda and I got brunch and then I had my last class on Joyce's Ulysses (читала, читала, прочитала).

it's been raining and the drops have taken down the apple blossoms, wet petals hitting the ground. Sasha and Luisa visited me for a day and we went to a senior photo show. Yesterday after Hannah's board we went to the Tivoli bakery. Lemon square, coffee, cranberry scone.







--for some reason I don't think I can study parts philosophy without understanding quantum physics, which will never happen. How can I understand choice if I don't understand chance or the splitting of the universe?

aquacities of thought and language

Senior photo exhibit I, Alex's senior opera recital, the senior dance show, Dani's senior music recital. Pill for reduction of lyme disease by 80% if taken within 72 hours of being bitten (the bite itself swollen and itching.) My shoulders have browned and freckled from the sun. The picking of a stem of apple blossoms and putting them into a glass milk bottle. Kelsey said “Brooklyn is the Bard afterlife”. Jono got a bird and it screams at the birds outside. Text from Yulka, 11:59pm 10/3/13: It's ok, understand. I took a picture of the magnolia tree behind my house, after asking Sorrel and Hannah to stand in front of it. Found out that (wood) Sorrel is what I know as заячья капуста (bunny cabbage). Text from Hannah, 5:07pm 3/25/14: Between ny and philly: bleakest train ride ever. Nj a hellscape. Valley of ashes. we were making a film but we could do more complicated things, such as overlay ourselves into previous renditions (so that there could be two of each person in a scene). And we decided that we could each interact with the previous version as we wished, without planning out everything before hand. But then a couple of us started killing us off. And I was upset: not only because we were being murdered (it only half felt like it was only in the movie we were making) but because a horror flick didn't fit my artistic version for the film. I screamed in fear and woke up silent. I need to install my AC again because it's getting hot and humid and my room is right under the roof. I can hear it when the rains, which I like. I tried smiling at someone from class but it he looked away mournfully. Emma is to come around noon and we will walk to the burrito stand. She switched majors from psychology to photography, I never did a senior project for studio art, taking a drawing III class in my final semester. Text from Sasha, 10:48pm 4/21/14: (I know but one soul this romantically damned.) I watched The Garden State (2004 USA) last night alone, and found it irritating. Some say say happiness is the absence of sadness. Farm fest was 4$ chili with bread and rice and we left the music when we came around in the evening. Mass Text from Kelsey, 10:49pm, drunk and standing right next to me 5/2/14: I love you ;) Went to the klezmer concert at Two Boots, eating mediocre pizza with Hannah and Will before going to Kelsey's room to watch ParaNorman (2012 USA). Sang the last full chamber singers concert for the masters choral conductors (Sicut cervus – Palestrina; Trois Chansons – Debussy; Spirit Seeking Light and Beauty – Stuart; Pater Noster – Stravinksy; Agnus Dei – Hassler; Rest – Vaughan Williams; There will be rest – Techeli; No. 8 Wenn so lind dein Auge mir, No.16 Ein dunkeler Schacht ist Liebe – Brahms; The last words of David – Thompson). “you can't make eye contact with half of campus” Emma said as we sat in the grass eating our burritos. This is the final truth. 

 

accepted

I wrote this few weeks ago and waited in hopes of getting a very specific photo but alas – here it is anyway.

A few days ago the accepted students swarmed campus, as they do every April. Last year it was on the 20^th, this time a week earlier.

"Do you have a tattoo?" one asked another

"No" said a girl who looked and sounded like she cared and wanted to come off as if she didn't care "but I want to get one"

"I do" said a third, softer looking one "here"

"oh, that's cute, I wanna get..." and then they were out of my range of hearing. I walked on to change for tennis practice.

I remember coming and being so excited. I got a balloon that said "studio art" on it and the campus was (and still is) beautiful - though now I know that they trim the trees and plant fresh flowers and finally finish up renovations started months ago in time for the horde to look.

I gave a girl and her mother directions (or tried, I'm not sure which parking lot they were looking for and the one they described physically could not exist) and remembered asking for direction and someone telling me "past the chapel" and thinking but all three of those buildings look like chapels. The first one is a chapel, the second is Bard Hall, the oldest building on campus, and the third is a fancy grave I think, still not sure.

The food they gave us was the least impressive of the schools I looked at, and so my Papa's theory started: that Bard wants to push you out the physical realm by giving us shitty food, so that we focus on our intellectual and spiritual development, outside the body (he jests; we drink and smoke to compensate). I thought the girls dressed so pretty and daring. I wanted to read. Dance. Love. I wanted everything though technically I was still considering Umass Amherst and Clark.

Even as I remember these things, it's hard to know how it really was. What is it like to look at this campus with fresh eyes? How do we look to them? At this point I am: the trees, the winter-bleached grass, the cigarette butts, the bandannas tied around mason jars filled with tea or coffee. My face has changed so have my thoughts my dress my heart. I am: the buildings I lived in and the hours I spent, the broken glass by the waterfall, the faces which I have looked at but never spoken to. On Thursdays and Tuesdays, I get off the shuttle and go to the library to make myself tea and get my notebook for class. As I exit on my way to Olin LC, I pass a boy on the stairs with a wide angular pale face and dark hair and a beige backpack. As I walk on the path, I pass another boy who's tanner and with lighter hair, who looks at me intently. I come too early – before the previous class is out – and drink my tea on a couch outside the classroom. I saw one reading the newspaper the other day. I saw the other at the library. We do not know each other but we are a metronome keeping the beat for the orchestral campus.* All this I will carry with me when I leave. I hope my best years are still ahead of me, but I am grateful that I was accepted, I am grateful that I came.

*the saddest part is that I haven't seen either of these boys since I wrote this. devastated.

sum some

The last month was a whirlwind - trying to finish up senior project while attempting to pretend that I don't have that weight on my shoulders. I attended an ASO concert (Strauss - Emperor Waltz, Accelerations, The Blue Danube; Conus - Violin Concerto; Brahms - Symphony No. 2). That night I came home to Jono and Noah playing goat simulator for two hours.

All the tennis matches happened in April (I think we lost almost all of them). 4/20 at Blithewood. We celebrated birthdays - Kelsey turned 21 on the 21st. We were 21 together for a day and then I turned 22 on the 22nd. Golden birthdays. Went to the diner for Adrienne's birthday on the 28th. Eggs and potatoes and rye toast, everyone else got chocolate milkshakes.

We performed Verdi's Requiem with the ASO two nights in a row, very close to the senior project deadline. A 92 year old man had a heart attack because of the music the first night. That Saturday we sang at William Weaver's memorial service - he was the first to translate all of Umberto Eco's works and some other modern Italian literature, and seemed to have had some colorful characters in his life. 

This Wednesday I finished formatting my project and went with Adrienne & co to get it bound - three copies, one for each member of my board. We got food at the Golden Wok and then checked in around four, an hour before the deadline. Many birthing jokes ensued: 9 months for delivery. Bard t-shirts, alumni sign-up, bbq and snacks and then we went behind stone row for free beer. Ended up sipping margarita's at Santa Fe and then the Bard Orchestra concert and then saw Hannah and Jack and Will and his friend Steven. Thoroughly sleep deprived and incomprehensible, though I still fell asleep at one, unable to break the habit from the past month, waking up at 8:30 as usual and kept going. I joked that we drink not just to numb the bruises from senior project, but fill the void left behind by it.
As I was falling asleep the next day for a nap, I was swarmed by thoughts like bees buzzing bumbling bustling and realized the tunnel vision that comes with working on one thing so single mindedly, that you forget (can't afford to) think about all the other thoughts in your head, though they are still there.

And then this weekend was spring fling. Thursday night was a small gathering at the Root Cellar (incoherent singing and the cliqueness of the people who tend to go there: Sorrel Hannah and I left pretty soon after arriving). I joined Kalena the second night and danced with Kelsey (music: Deerhoof, Branchez, Giraffage, Speedy Oritz, Celestial Shore).

The third we had a pre-party with Amanda & co. and that's where most of the dancing that night happened - at the tent, it was too crowded and jumbled, the currents making it impossible to stay still and sway, one moved through the river, bumping up against rocks, coursing round in circles (music: Lil B, Slava, Silent Addy, Chi Ching Ching). We hung out in the beer garden and campus center instead, smiling broadly and talking to people we don't talk to and holding hands and hugging: Bardians are nice when drunk. I went to the waterfall where Will and Hannah and others set up a fire and that was lovely until I felt sleepy and took the 2:40 shuttle home.

and that's the last month, summarized.

cranberry tincture

Once I started reading Moscow-Petushki this winter, my mind turned to making an infusion – specifically, one with cranberries. You could also make it with other things i.e. black current or lemons or something more complex like oхотничья. My mother sometimes makes a nastoyka by simply cutting up horseradish root and putting it in vodka. Julia told me her brother puts apple pie filling in drinking spirit and that the result is very effective.

You would think a recipe with four ingredients would one have only one or two versions, but I’m almost tempted to make a flow chart because everyone seems to combine the ingredients in a different order. Most of the contention comes with the timing of the sugar and water. From what I gather, if you make the quick version and only have it sit for a few days, you can put the water and sugar in early on. Otherwise, put it in later.




You will need:

-A 3-liter vessel (I used a Carlo Rossi wine bottle)
-1 liter of cranberries, fresh or frozen (~600-800g)
-1 liter of spirit (95% 190 proof. They sell at liquor stores, I think Everclear is the most easily available brand. This stuff is prohibited in some states, including my home state of Massachusetts. If this is the case, you could just get vodka and omit the water)
-300-500 g of granulated sugar (1.5-2.5 cups – one recipe didn’t use any sugar.)
-1-1.4 liter water (depending on how strong you want it. A few recipes said to make the sugar-syrup with ~700g of water and then at the end fill the 3 liter vessel to the top. Some recipes said there’s enough water in the cranberries: a version that results in something quite a bit stronger. A few recipes underscored the importance of using quality water. )
-Scrim aka cheese cloth aka gauze
-A strainer
-A funnel

1. In one recipe the guy picks his own cranberries on a bog and then freezes them for a bit to make them drier. In another, someone adds a bit of sugar to the cranberries and waits for them to ferment a bit – ‘to the first foam’. Either way, you have to press them so that the skin splits. Some people cut each cranberry individually with a knife, others just chop it up in the food processor, though this potentially makes it more difficult to strain later. One woman actually said that you have to poke each cranberry individually with a needle, preferably multiple times, which seems a bit neurotic. I just smooshed them with a wooden spoon.
2. After this you cover the cranberries with spirit. Some say put the sugar and/or water in at this step, though this makes the end result weaker (for more details, look up Mendeleev). If you only want to wait a few days, you can add the sugar and water now. If you are willing to wait longer, put off

   first strain

   the sugar and water, and let the cranberries sit for a while in the spirit: time indications ranged from a couple weeks to a few months. Some say to mix it occasionally
   during this step. I kept putting off the last steps so mine sat around for five months.
   
3. Once you have waited, strain.

4. cranberry spirits, water, sugar water

   If you have not put in the sugar and water, you can do so after straining. Or, don’t strain, add the sugar and water, and then wait until all the cranberry stuff drifts to the bottom. Then pour the clarified drink, bypassing the need for cheesecloth. (Mine didn't really need to be strained with the cheesecloth; it got a couple cranberry seeds and that's it. Also I ran out of white sugar and used brown sugar, but I don't think that makes a difference.
5. Enjoy! Be careful, it’s stronger than it tastes. I'm ready for spring fling
   
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   

main references
http://sadoved.com/domashnie-zagotovki/napitki-i-nastoiki/3240-klyukovka.html
http://forum.homedistiller.ru/index.php?topic=195.0